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"Shots fired at warehouse 342 San Pedro. Multiple people down." I hung up before they could ask questions.

Sirens would be here in minutes. Time to move.

I crouched in front of Eddie, met his eyes. "You don't know me. You never saw me. Tell the police it was a Russian gang fight. Stay quiet, stay alive. Understand?"

He nodded weakly.

I moved to each body, grabbed their phones, pocketed them. Intel. Evidence. Anything that might help.

I didn’t hear sirens yet, but they’d get here, and I’d need to be gone.

I headed for the side door, moving as fast as my ribs would allow. Out into the cool night air. Down the block to my rental car.

Started the engine and pulled away as I heard the first distant siren.

My hands shook on the steering wheel.

Viktor had heard everything before I intervened. Knew about Jasper Creek. Knew about Angie. Knew Katherine had been there. They might find Sophie’s apartment and see that she’d bolted, two mugs of coffee sitting cold on the counter.

Damn. I’d fucked up, leaving that behind for them to find. And if they got access to any camera footage that showed the three of us leaving together, they’d go to Jasper Creek.

Even if he saw me on camera, he didn't know me, didn’t know he’d be coming to a town full of former special operators. Didn't know Katherine had an entire town ready to protect her and Sophie.

That was the only advantage we had left. And it was a good one.

I pulled out my phone and texted Simon and Krause while sitting at a red light.

Abort. Eddie is safe but compromised. Russians know about Sophie and Jasper Creek. Regroup at motel.

Simon's reply came first.

En route. ETA 30 minutes.

Then Krause.

Understood. Vernon location was empty anyway.

I merged North onto the highway, heading back to San Fernando Valley. My mind raced through tactical options.

Viktor would send people to Jasper Creek, hoping that Katherine and Sophie would be a big enough draw to lure Russell out of hiding. Hell, Viktor might even come, himself. But he'd be cautious now, knowing someone professional had taken out three of his men. He'd bring more firepower. Better planning.

Which meant we had maybe twenty-four hours before this turned into a war.

Only one play left—lead them to exactly where we wanted them to go. Away from town. Away from Jase and his family. Control the battlefield. We'd set the trap and draw Viktor's men in.

Better to fight on ground we knew than keep running through LA while Viktor hunted us.

Now that the adrenaline was gone, my ribs hurt like a son of a bitch. But the thought of seeing Katherine's face flashed through my mind. That could help keep any man going.

I pressed harder on the accelerator.

The motel appeared forty minutes later, a beacon of neon and peeling paint. I parked in front of room 247 and sat for a moment, trying to compose myself.

My shirt was soaked with sweat. The body armor had saved my ribs from worse damage, but I looked like hell. Katherine would take one look at me and know.

I climbed out of the car, every movement deliberate, and walked to the door. Knocked twice.

"Code?" Her voice came through immediately. Scared. Hopeful.