Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Seven
Aht let out a long breath, the kind that dragged sothing heavy out of his chest.
"She just left," he said.
Markus’s grin widened. "She just left?"
Aht nodded once, then leaned back against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face. The words ca slower after that. Not everything. Aht dragged a hand down his face. "She missed her period."
Markus stiffened. "What?"
"She had co here, panicked," Aht went on, staring at the floor like it might give him answers. "She thought she might be pregnant. I had to get a test." He let out a humorless breath.
Markus swore under his breath.
"She wasn’t," Aht said. "The test was negative." He paused, jaw tightening. "I should’ve felt relieved. I did, initially, but not the way I expected to."
Markus glanced at him. "What do you an?"
"She looked at like she didn’t know whether to be angry or grateful," Aht said quietly. "Though she was guarded and soft. Like she’d braced herself for sothing worse and didn’t know what to do when it was even negative." He shook his head once. "Then she left."
Markus didn’t interrupt. He only listened, jaw tightening with every sentence.
When Aht finished, silence stretched between them.
Markus finally exhaled through his nose. "Don’t think it," he said quietly.
Aht looked up.
"I an it," Markus went on, tone stripped of humor now. "Don’t let your head go there. Not with her. Not right now." He shook his head. "That road doesn’t end well for anyone."
"I know," Aht said, though his voice lacked conviction.
Markus straightened. "You care, fine. But you don’t get to be reckless about it. Not now." He paused, softer. "Especially not with Marco still breathing."
That did it.
Aht pushed off the counter. The softness drained from his posture, replaced by sothing colder, sharper, and familiar.
"Mission," he said.
Markus nodded and pulled out his phone, already moving. His thumb flew over the screen as he walked. "I’ll gather the n. Warehouse Three."
Aht went inside and grabbed his jacket, his keys already in hand. "We’ll et them on the way."
Markus ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. "I hope this ends soon."
"It has to," Aht said.
Floodlights carved harsh white scars across the compound, mounted high on rusted poles. Caras swept back and forth in slow, deliberate arcs. Ard n stood at intervals along the fence line, rifles loose but ready.
Aht slowed the car before the turn-in.
"Security’s been multiplied," Markus muttered. "Just like Marco ordered."
Aht didn’t answer. He was already mapping the blind spots, overlapping cara paths, and the containers stacked too neatly to be a coincidence.
They didn’t use the main gate.
They slipped in through the rear periter, where motion sensors blinked faintly along the walls. The air humd with charged power.
A guard rounded the corner.
Aht caught him before the man could inhale to shout. Markus dragged the body into the shadow, fingers already killing the radio.
Inside, the warehouse throbbed.
Generators roared beneath the floor, overworked and relentless. Heat clung to the air, thick with sweat and recycled oxygen.
They passed a control station where two n were seated behind monitors, watching every cara feed in the building.
Not anymore.
One sharp strike, and the screens flickered, then died, reflecting Markus’s face for half a second before he yanked the power.
Then the sound reached them.
Voices. Dozens of them. Sounding, layered, rehearsed, and urgent.
"Yes sir, your account has been compromised..."
"...we just need verification..."
"...don’t hang up..."
Rows of desks filled the warehouse floor.
Computers packed tight, screens glowing sickly blue. Young n and won sat shoulder to shoulder, headsets clamped on, scripts taped to desks, creased, rewritten, and stained. Their voices never stopped.
Behind them, supervisors paced with batons tapping against their palms. Hesitation earned a sharp crack against a table. Or worse.
Along the walls, ard guards stood watch.
Not over the exits. Over the workers.
Chains ran low along the floor, locking chairs in place. So wrists bore raw marks. So eyes didn’t look up at all.
Aht’s jaw hardened.
One supervisor sensed the change, he sensed the wrongness of the air, and the sudden silence in the feeds. So he turned.
His baton slipped from his fingers.
Chairs scraped back as panic rippled through the rows, sudden and jagged, restrained only by the rifles lining the walls.
Aht stepped into the light.
"End the calls," he said.
His voice was calm. It didn’t need volu. Just a glimpse of him and it was enough.
A guard shifted and another tightened his grip.
Aht picked up a phone from the nearest desk, listened to the trembling voice on the other end for a heartbeat, then disconnected it and placed it down gently.
"Now."
One by one, the screens went dark and the headsets dropped. The generators thundered on, suddenly too loud in the exposed quiet.
Markus scanned the room. "These are forced labor. Probably trafficked. He’s running a scam industry nonstop."
"His cash machine," Aht said, agreeing with what Markus comnted. "Built on fear."
His n moved.
Exits were sealed. Guards disard. They freed them from the chains and shackles. Marco’s n who resisted were put down quickly.
A young man with a headset still crooked over one ear just stood there, hands trembling at his sides, staring at Aht like he wasn’t real. A woman also sank to her knees and pressed her forehead to the floor, breath breaking out of her in sobs she’d clearly been swallowing for weeks.
Soone whispered thank you once, then again, like a prayer they were afraid would jinx the mont. Eyes followed Aht as he moved through the rows, wide and shining, fear slowly loosening into sothing fragile and aching, sothing that looked almost like belief.
For the first ti since they’d been dragged in and chained to screens and scripts, the guns were no longer pointed at them, and the people who’d ended the calls hadn’t co to hurt them, but to open the doors.
When the last of them were clear, Aht stopped at the entrance. Markus brushed past him, striking the flare and tossing it inside without ceremony. It clattered across the concrete, rolled beneath a desk, then blood. Fire caught fast, wires hissing, fuel-soaked papers flashing bright.
Aht stayed where he was as the first wave of heat surged out, as flas crawled up chair legs and leapt to the hanging cables. Screens burst one by one, sharp pops slicing through the roar. Only then did he lift his gaze, watching the blaze take its first full breath and spread, until the warehouse was no longer a place, but a furnace chewing itself hollow.
This was the only warehouse they burned and even watched. Maybe because this ti, he wished they had destroyed the rest too.
Aht stopped just outside the glow of the fire and turned to Markus.
"Did you plan this?" he asked, voice low. "Burning the place."
Markus glanced back at the warehouse, flas crawling up the tal fra. He shook his head once. "No. I found the petrol inside. The containers were stacked near the back. And a lighter in one of the offices."
Aht’s eyes narrowed. "Already there?"
"Yeah," Markus said. "Like they’d been waiting to use it."
Aht went quiet for a mont, the crackle of fire filling the space between them. Then, "So who was it?" he asked. "One of the hostages? Soone desperate enough to torch it all and run?"
Markus exhaled slowly. "Or Marco," he said. "Was it an order? If the place was ever compromised, they were to burn everything, evidence, people, and machines before we ca."
Aht’s jaw tightened. "aning if we’d been late..."
"It wouldn’t have been a raid," Markus cut in. "It would’ve been a grave."
Markus broke the silence first. He nudged Aht lightly with his elbow.
"Co on," he said, a crooked grin pulling at his mouth. "Let’s go for a drink. You look like you need one."
Aht didn’t look at him. His eyes were still on the dying fire. "No." Then he finally turned, the corner of his mouth lifting. "I’m planning a date with Asli. At my place."
Markus stopped short. "A date?" He laughed softly. "You? Do you even know how to do that?"
Aht shot him a look. "Watch it."
"I’m serious," Markus went on, clearly enjoying himself. "Candles? Music? Food? Or are you just going to stare at her until she figures out you’re in love?"
Aht exhaled and rolled his neck, stretching the tension out. "I haven’t had ti to plan anything," he admitted. "She’s coming later. Maybe near dawn. Early morning, at the latest."
Markus’s brows lifted. "You’re hopeless." He pulled out his phone before Aht could respond and stepped a few paces away, already dialing. His voice dropped as he spoke, quick and efficient. "Yeah. I need a pickup. Now. Sa place. Bring what all I asked for."
He ended the call and slid the phone back into his pocket, turning to Aht with a satisfied smile.
"I got you," he said and then chuckled, shaking his head. "Must be nice," he continued lightly. "Ending a mission knowing there’s a woman waiting for you at ho."
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