Chapter 30 of BEYOND BETRAYAL: WAR WITHOUT END

The night air was thick with the stench of burnt rubber and gunpowder as Carrick, Victor, and Maximus slipped through the industrial district's back alleys. Sirens still wailed in the distance, their echoes bouncing off the rusted steel skeletons of abandoned warehouses. But Carrick's mind wasn't on their escape.

It was on Samael.

The assassin had been toying with him. Testing his reflexes, gauging his skill. Sizing him up.

And that meant only one thing, Samael wasn't done yet.

Carrick's fingers curled into fists as they reached their getaway car. The black SUV was parked in the shadows, waiting for them. Lila sat in the driver's seat, her sniper rifle broken down into pieces beside her. Alex was in the back, typing furiously on his laptop.

The moment they climbed in, Lila pulled away from the curb.

Victor exhaled. "That could've gone better."

Maximus chuckled. "Could've gone worse."

Carrick's eyes stayed on the passing streetlights. "We got what we came for."

Alex didn't look up from his screen. "We got shot at. That's what we got."

Lila glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "You're still breathing."

Alex huffed. "For now."

Carrick ignored the banter. His mind was turning over the details of the meeting, the contractor, the hit order, the flash drive.

He turned to Alex. "Did you get anything on that drive?"

Alex adjusted his glasses and tapped the keyboard. "I'm decrypting it now. But whoever compiled this data? They knew their shit."

Victor frowned. "You're saying it's professional?"

Alex nodded. "More than professional. It's military-grade encryption. Could take hours to crack."

Carrick's jaw tightened. He couldn't afford to wait.

"Speed it up."

Alex snorted. "You want me to rewrite the laws of computing while we're at it?"

Carrick leaned in, his voice ice-cold. "I want results."

Alex swallowed, then refocused on his work. "Fine. I'll push it."

Maximus leaned back. "So, what's the plan now? You gonna wait around for Samael to make his move?"

Carrick smirked. "No. We force him to make it."

They reached their safehouse an hour later, a high-rise apartment overlooking the city skyline. The place was sparse, functional. A base of operations, not a home.

As soon as they entered, Alex set up his workstation, the glow of multiple monitors casting eerie blue light across the room. Lila disappeared into the bedroom to clean her rifle. Maximus and Victor stood near the window, watching the streets below.

Carrick poured himself a glass of whiskey, took a slow sip, then turned to his team.

"We're done waiting," he said. "Samael wants to study me? Fine. Let's turn the tables."

Victor folded his arms. "Meaning?"

Carrick's eyes gleamed. "We hunt him."

Maximus grinned. "Now you're speaking my language."

Victor, however, remained skeptical. "You're talking about tracking down a professional assassin. One who's been doing this for years."

Carrick nodded. "Which means he has habits. Patterns. No killer operates in isolation. He has weapons dealers, informants, safehouses. We find them, we find him."

Alex glanced up from his screen. "Good news. Decryption's at fifty percent. I should have access to the full drive soon."

Carrick smirked. "That's a start."

Lila reappeared, tightening the strap on her knife holster. "And what happens when we do find him?"

Carrick set his glass down with a clink.

"We remind him that he's not the only predator in this city."

The first name they uncovered was Marcus Rourke, an arms dealer with ties to both mercenaries and contract killers.

Carrick, Maximus, and Lila headed to an underground fight club in the old district where Marcus was known to do business. The place was a hellhole, dimly lit, sweat-stained, filled with the stench of alcohol and blood.

They entered through the back, unnoticed in the chaos of an ongoing match. In the center of the ring, two men were beating each other to a pulp while a bloodthirsty crowd roared around them.

Carrick's gaze swept the room and found him.

Marcus Rourke sat in a corner booth, flanked by two massive bodyguards. He was a ratty-looking man in his late forties, dressed in a wrinkled suit, greasy hair slicked back. A cigar smoldered between his fingers.

Maximus cracked his knuckles. "I say we skip introductions and start breaking bones."

Carrick smirked. "Tempting. But let's give him a chance first."

They approached the booth. The bodyguards immediately tensed, reaching for their weapons.

Marcus barely glanced up. "Busy."

Carrick slid into the seat across from him. "You just lost your best client."

That got his attention. Marcus squinted. "And you are?"

Carrick leaned forward. "The man Samael was hired to kill."

Silence.

Marcus exhaled a stream of smoke. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Carrick smiled. "Wrong answer."

In a blur, Maximus reached across the table, grabbing Marcus by the throat and slamming him against the booth.

The bodyguards reacted too slow. Lila had already drawn her pistol, pressing it against one of their skulls. The other hesitated, hand hovering over his holster.

Carrick remained seated, calm as ever.

"Now," he said smoothly. "Let's try that again."

Marcus choked, face turning red. "Wait.. wait!"

Maximus loosened his grip slightly.

Carrick's voice remained cold. "Samael. Where is he?"

Marcus coughed. "I don't.."

Maximus tightened his grip.

Marcus wheezed. "Okay! Okay! He came to me two nights ago for fresh weapons. But I don't know where he's staying! He keeps his safehouses off-record!"

Carrick exchanged a glance with Lila. She nodded.

"We'll verify that," Carrick said. "If you're lying.."

Marcus gulped. "I'm not! I swear!"

Carrick stood. "Good. You just bought yourself another day to live."

He turned to leave, but then paused.

"Oh, and Marcus?"

The arms dealer looked up, trembling.

Carrick smiled.

"If I hear you're doing business with Samael again?"

He leaned in close.

"I'll finish what Maximus started."

Marcus shuddered.