The morning after, we were on the Columbia University campus by 9 AM for Elliot’s biochemistry exam.
I was watching from the library, staying on the second floor, which gave a clear view of the lecture hall entrance. My weapon was concealed under my jacket, and my earpiece was connected to Tony’s command center.
My heart pounded so hard that I could hear it... my brother was being used as bait. And I deliberately put him in danger to end this war.
What kind of sister does that?
Last night, during the video call with Elliot. I had to tell him, and I had to be honest.
"They will be targeting you tomorrow during your exam. The remaining four students."
Elliot’s face was on screen, analytical and processing what I had just told him.
"And your plan?"
"We use you as bait to draw them out, capture or kill them, and end this permanently."
There was a long pause, then he asked. "What’s the statistical success rate?"
And I knew only my brother, Elliot, would ask that.
"Seventy-three percent. If we execute perfectly." I responded.
"And if we don’t?"
I couldn’t lie to him. "You die, or I die protecting you. Or we both die."
He was silent for a mont, calculating and weighing his options.
Finally, she replied. "I agree. It’s the logical solution. We end the threat permanently rather than prolonging vulnerability."
"Elliot-"
"I understand the risks, Katherine, and I accept them because you’re right. As long as these four exist, I’m in danger anyway. It’s better to control the confrontation than wait for them to strike on their terms."
I was crying, unable to help myself.
"I won’t let anything happen to you."
"Statistically, you can’t guarantee that." His voice softened slightly. "But I trust you anyway."
The campus was covertly transford and went unnoticed.
The FBI agents posed as students with backpacks and textbooks, blending in perfectly. We had NYPD undercover as faculty, maintenance workers, and campus security.
Snipers had been placed on rooftops, hidden and waiting. Tactical teams were in buildings, ready to deploy.
We had Luca’s people everywhere, and I spotted three from my position alone.
Tony was in a mobile command center two blocks away, coordinating everything.
"Katherine, check in," his voice ca through the earpiece.
"Position secure. Visual of Elliot entering the lecture hall."
"Good. Stay sharp. They’re here sowhere. Watching and waiting for the perfect mont."
I know they are, I could feel it.
These were four students with four different skill sets and four different threats.
All converging on my brother.
Elliot was inside, now taking his exam.
He was completely focused as if this was normal and dozens of ard operatives weren’t surrounding him.
That’s Elliot. His compartntalization was perfected.
I kept watching the windows, the rooftops, and the crowds.
Where were they?
"Patience," Tony said, reading my tension. "They’ll make their move."
Minutes crawl by, and to each one felt like an eternity.
Then a loud fire alarm sounded, triggering a building-wide alert.
"Here we go," I mutter.
Students flooded out. The evacuation protocol was in chaos, which gave us the perfect cover.
I could see Elliot in the crowd, and I moved to shadow him at twenty feet back.
Tony’s voice called out. "All units, eyes open. This is it."
Then I saw a glint of tal on the rooftop of the east building across the street.
A Sniper.
"SNIPER!" I scread into the comms. "East rooftop! ELLIOT, DOWN!"
The shot was fired and missed Elliot by inches, but struck the pavent beside him.
The students were screaming, scattering, and running in all directions.
I tackled Elliot and covered him with my body.
"Stay down! Don’t move!"
FBI counter-snipers engaged, and a rooftop firefight erupted.
The next student we encountered was Jim Ying. He was Charles’s sniper specialist. A forr Chinese military officer was really good.
He took out two FBI snipers before they could get a bead on him.
But Luca’s people were flanking. Three of his teams converged on the roof access, and Ying realized he had been cornered.
I watched through binoculars and saw him put the gun to his own head.
"For Charles," I read his lips.
The shot echoed across the campus.
He was dead before Luca’s team got to reach him.
"One down," I reported. "Three to go."
Tony replied. "Keep Elliot covered. They’re not done."
Multiple explosions occurred across the campus simultaneously. It was not lethal but strategic and in diversions. It created chaos and panic, and it separated our forces.
"Astrid Chavez," Tony identified the next student. "She’s a demolitions expert and is dividing us."
I pulled Elliot up. "Move! Extraction point!"
We ran through the panicked crowds, toward the secure vehicle, and heard another explosion. This was closer, and we could see the library facade crumbling.
I shielded Elliot from the debris raining down.
Through the smoke, I saw her.
Astrid Chavez, a Latina woman in her late 30s, was looking at us with cold eyes. Her weapon was raised, aiming at Elliot.
I fired first and hit her shoulder. She spun and dropped to the floor.
The FBI tactical team sward in and secured her.
She was alive but wounded and placed imdiately in custody.
"Two down," I gasped.
But I felt imdiately that sothing was wrong.
A sudden dizziness that was overwhelming. I felt nauseous and could see my vision blurring.
"Sothing’s wrong-" I stumbled, and Elliot caught .
"It’s gas, an airborne toxin. This must be Monica Freeman’s specialty."
Gas masks were being deployed, but I had already breathed in too much of it, and it was concentrated.
"Katherine? KATHERINE?" Tony’s voice ca through the earpiece, sounding panicked.
Elliot’s hands supported . "She needs dical. Now!"
I’m stumbling as I couldn’t focus. The poison was spreading through my system.
Then I saw her appear.
Monica Freeman, smiling with a syringe in hand.
"Goodbye, Katherine Blaire."
She was moving toward to finish the blow, but Elliot moved faster and threw sothing.
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