AVA.
The blindfold dug into my skin like a persistent itch I couldn't scratch, its rough fabric a constant reminder of my vulnerability. I sat there in that creaky metal chair, wrists raw from the ropes, ankles numb from the bindings, every muscle in my body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.
The air hung heavy with dust seeping into my lungs with each shallow breath I took. How long had it been? Hours? Days? The time blurred in the darkness, but my mind raced, piecing together every scrap of information Echo had let slip during our chat.
He was a former military man, now a freelance, working for someone driven by a personal grudge against Zane. He was predictable in his arrogance and ran solo operations with no cams and a reinforced door. He thought he had me cornered, but I had been probing him like a puzzle, noting the cracks in his modulated voice, the way he had stiffened at my questions about loss. Men like him always had a weak spot, their ego. And their egos let them make mistakes.
A distant thud echoed through the concrete walls, pulling me from my thoughts. My heart stuttered. Was that a door? Footsteps? I strained against the blindfold, tilting my head, and prickling my ears for more. Nothing at first, just the drip-drip from that leaky pipe in the corner, mocking my isolation.
Then I heard a muffled shout, followed by the sharp crack of gunfire. Pop-pop-pop, like fireworks gone wrong. My pulse hammered in my throat, adrenaline flooding my veins. This was it. Either a rescue or my execution.
Please, let it be Zane. Let it be Damian.
The sounds grew closer and got more chaotic, with grunts, crashes, and more shots. Glass shattered somewhere, maybe through the barred window on the door. I twisted in my chair, making the ropes bite deeper into my skin, and I let out a deep hiss.
"Come on," I whispered to myself, fierce determination bubbling up inside me. I was Ava Sinclair-Calloway, raised in shadows and spotlights. I would fight if I had to, blind or not.
The door to my prison burst open with a metallic screech, and the hinges gave off a groaning in protest. Instantly, cool air rushed in, carrying the acrid scent of gunpowder.
"Where is she?" a voice barked with fury.
Damian.
My chest tightened as relief crashed over me. He was here to save me.
But. Echo's modulated growl cut through, reminding me that the chaos wasn't over. "You shouldn't have come."
Then the real fight erupted.
I couldn't see, but I felt the air vibrating with the intensity of their violence. I listened as their bodies slammed into walls, and the concrete cracked under the impact. That was followed by a grunt, the wet thud of fists meeting flesh.
Gunshots rang out closer now, deafening in the confined space just as something warm splattered across my cheek...was that blood? My stomach churned, but I forced myself to stay still, to listen.
"Flank him!" Another voice yelled through in a commanding tone.
Zane. My brother was there too.
More footsteps pounded while a table overturned with a crash, tools scattering like metallic rain. Echo fired back, and someone yelped in pain.
Not Damian, please not him.
What if they got hurt because of me? I tugged at the ropes again, ignoring the burning sensation since I was desperate to help out. "Damian!" I shouted,
A body hit the floor nearby, the impact sending vibrations up my chair legs. Echo's labored breathing filled the room, it was closer now.
"You think this ends here?" he snarled, his modulator glitching from damage. Then I heard a savage crack of bone breaking and he howled.
"It ends now." Damian replied. I heard more blow exchanges than the slick sound of a knife slicing skin. The air thickened with the fresh blood smell, making me gag. This was cartel life, the bloody underbelly I had glimpsed but never touched.
And now it was spilling out for me.
Finally, silence descended, broken only by heavy breathing and a groan from the floor. I felt gentle hands on me as it tugged at my blindfold. Pulling it off my eyes, light flooded in, blinding me at first. I blinked rapidly, as tears filled up.
Damian's face hovered inches from mine, bruised and blood-stained, his dark eyes were filled with relief.
"Ava," he breathed, cupping my cheek, thumb wiping away the splatter. His touch sent sparks through me and silenced the chaos in my mind. I had missed him.
"I'm okay," I whispered,
But my eyes darted past him to the carnage. Echo lay crumpled against the wall, his mask was torn and blood was pooling from a gash on his forehead. He had a bullet wound in his shoulder. His chest rose and fell unevenly.
He was alive, but barely.
Zane stood over him, gun trained, his suit torn, a cut above his eye dripping red. Sienna was next to him. Two of our men, Rico and another guarded the door, one clutching a bleeding arm.
Zane holstered his weapon and knelt to bind Echo's hands with zip ties from the scattered tools.
"Secure him," he ordered Rico, who nodded and dragged the semi-conscious man to a corner.
Sienna's eyes scanning me with concern. "You held up well," she said, almost approvingly.
Damian worked on my ropes, his fingers deft despite the tremor I felt in them. As the bindings fell away, I rubbed my wrists, wincing at my raw skin. He pulled me to my feet, wrapping me in a tight hug.
His heart pounded against mine, I soak in his cologne.
"I thought I'd lost you," he murmured into my hair.
Zane approached us, his expression softening as he pulled me from Damian into his own embrace. "Ava," he said, voice rough. "Good to see you."
I hugged him back, feeling the tension in his frame.
"Who is he working for and what do they want?" I asked, nodding at Echo as I pulled away.
Zane replied, giving Damian a glance, "Good call on the dupe drive. Bought us time."
Dupe Drive?
I frowned, piecing it together. Echo had demanded Sienna's locket drive, full of secrets. But dupe?
"You faked it?" I asked, turning to Sienna. She nodded, her lips curving slightly. "Couldn't risk the real one. Not with the cartel under fire."
"Under fire?" My mind sharpened, curiosity overriding the ache in my body. "What do you mean?"
Zane exchanged a look with Damian, then sighed. "Some journalists dropped an exposé. Tied Atlas to... everything. Drugs, laundering, hits. Our stocks are dipping, and feds sniffing around. The drive Echo wanted has got evidence that could flip the narrative about Atlas."
My thoughts raced ahead, connecting dots I had picked on Echo's psychology. He was a professional and had mentioned a "new player" with a grudge against Zane, wanting territory. That made him predictable. Echo would have planned his movement. After the drop, he would bolt to his employer for payout, because his ego would demand that he deliver it in person.
"Set him up," I said, cutting through Zane's explanation. "Use him to take the heat off Atlas."
They all stared at me.
Zane tilted his head. "Explain."
I straightened, ignoring the throb in my head, adrenaline to help was fueling me. "Echo's ex-military freelancer. He works for pay; he hinted that Zane was stepping on toes. After you 'drop' the drive, he'll grab it and run straight to whoever hired him. Trail him. Let him lead you to the boss. Then tip the feds anonymously. Plant the narrative that the hirer and Echo are behind the cartel stuff in the exposé. Frame them with the drive's contents. It solves your press problem, clears Atlas."
Sienna's eyes narrowed, assessing. "Bold. But risky. If he spots the tail..."
"He won't," I countered, "He's arrogant, thinks solo means untouchable. I have studied him; he doesn't use proxies. I got that from our talk."
Zane rubbed his chin, considering. "And the feds? We can't just hand over the drive."
"Fake the drop with a tracker in the dupe first," I pressed, my mind whirring. "But switch to real, having edited out ones that could harm us if needed. No, wait. Use the real drive as bait, but rig it with a virus or something to corrupt after access. Noah can handle that." I glanced at Damian, who nodded slowly, a grin tugging at his lips.
Zane's gaze bored into mine, weighing. "This isn't your world, Ava. You've been through hell. Let us handle..."
"No," I snapped, "This is my world now. They took me because of you, because of Atlas. I'm not sitting out. I read him, Zane. Let me help end this."
Damian stepped forward, his hand on my shoulder, "She's right. Sharp as hell. We could use her brain on this."
Zane's eyes flashed between us, the old protectiveness showing again. "Fine," he said finally, voice grudging. "But you stay back during the op. Observation only."
"Deal," I agreed, though internally I seethed at the leash. I would prove myself.
The team moved fast after that.
֍
Rico patched Noah in via secure line, hidden in the locket pendant. "It will ping the location every thirty seconds, and a backdoor virus to fry it if accessed wrong," he explained over speaker,"
Sienna handed it over reluctantly, her fingers lingering. "This better work."
Zane nodded at Rico. "Revive him enough to talk."
Rico hauled Echo up, slapping his face lightly. The man groaned, his eyes fluttering open behind the torn mask. Blood crusted his lip. "What...?"
Zane loomed over him. "Deal's on. Here is the drive in exchange for the girl. I have the coordinates sent." He tossed a burner phone at Echo's feet. "Two hours. No tricks."
Echo's laugh was weak, a modulated voice crackling. "You first."
We left him bound but loose enough to escape as part of the setup. As we piled into SUVs outside, I slid into the back with Damian. His hand found mine, squeezing. "You were brilliant back there," he murmured, lips brushing my ear. Shivers raced down my spine, mixing with the adrenaline.
"I had to be," I whispered back. "For us."
The convoy rolled out, Rico monitoring the tracker from a laptop. Echo broke free twenty minutes later, as predicted. We tailed from afar, with drones overhead courtesy of Noah's hacks. The signal led east, through to a nondescript office building on the city's edge.
Rico noted. "Shell corp ties, wait, linked to an old rival. Marcus Hale. Vanessa's silent partner."
We parked blocks away, watching via feed as Echo entered, drive in hand. Inside, grainy CAM hacks showed him handing it to a man in a suit. Hale, surrounded by goons.
Once they plugged it in. Zane ordered, "Tip the feds,"
Noah handled the anonymous drop using the altered exposé files rerouted to Hale's servers, timestamps faked. Feds swarmed minutes later. We watched from afar as they busted in and gunfire erupted briefly, as Hale's men resisted. Echo bolted out a side door, but the feds cut him off, tackling him in a brutal takedown. Hale emerged in cuffs, cursing.
It was over. Atlas had been cleared.
As the feds hauled them away, I exhaled, leaning into Damian. "Told you he would lead straight there."
He kissed my temple with pride. "Damn right."
Damian clapped my shoulder. "Thanks to Ava. She nailed his psyche, predicted every move." He turned to Zane, "We could use a brain like hers. Stop holding her back from ops. She's proven it."
Zane stopped, eyes on me. "You're right. Welcome to the family business, sis."
I smiled. There were no more sidelines. This was my world now.
