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The line went dead.
Ethan sat there, staring at the blinking cursor on his screen.
He wasn’t just Ethan Wolf, tech analyst and computer security expert, anymore. He was now Ethan Wolf—Guardian’s Defense.
The transition was seamless. Subtle.
Ethan sat motionless, absorbing the weight of those words.
The implications were crystal clear. Jason wasn't just giving him access to resources or approving his investigation. He was giving him the authority to act decisively. Up to and including the use of deadly force.
His role had always been distant. He'd directed missions through keystrokes, manipulated enemy systems, and provided operational intelligence from behind a secure digital curtain. The consequences of his work—the violence, the operations, the takedowns—had always remained abstract.
Until now.
The veil had been lifted. The distance dissolved. The weight of responsibility that had hovered in the periphery of his existence now settled firmly on his shoulders, its presence undeniable.
Ethan sat still for a moment, fingers poised above the keyboard. The echoes of the conversation lingered in the air, mingling with the faint hum of cooling fans and the subtle electrical flux of encrypted connections.
Jason had just handed him the keys to the kingdom.
He flexed his fingers and placed them firmly on the keyboard. “All right, boys … who would know the most about these bastards?”
Guardian’s intelligence databases were robust enough to offer a starting point, but local law enforcement would have more actionable information. NYPD's organized crime unit would be the logical next step. Afterward, he'd slip into the DA’s office system to check for sealed records, unfiled witness reports, or case notes that hadn't been digitized into open-access databases.
His mind spun with possibilities. It was as if someone had removed the training wheels and pushed him downhill at breakneck speed. The freedom—thislimitlessaccess—was intoxicating. His fingers flew across the keys, bypassing firewalls and skirting detection software like a virtuoso on a piano.
Lines of code streamed across the monitors. System access was granted. Internal databases were exposed. The digital barriers protecting the NYPD's network melted beneath his fingers.
An unsettling sensation settled in his gut as information cascaded across the screens.
He leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the profiles before him.
The men Star had recorded weren’t minor players.
The first, Enzo DeLuca, was the right hand of the Bianchi family boss—a high-ranking lieutenant with a laundry list of allegations trailing behind him like a shadow. Drug trafficking. Extortion. Arms dealing. And, most concerning, multiple murder investigations.
He’d been charged more than once. But the DA’s office had never been able to make a case stick. Witnesses recanted their statements, disappeared entirely, or turned up days later as bloated corpses in the East River.
Ethan’s stomach turned as he scanned the cold, unyielding facts.
He reopened the hardware store’s surveillance footage and ran it through his system's advanced enhancement algorithms. The men had spoken while partially hidden behind the end of the aisle. Even with enhanced audio and visual manipulation, the conversation remained fragmented. And no matter how many filters he applied, the camera’s line of sight didn’t provide a clear view of their hands.
Did they exchange money? A name? An address?
Nothing on the recording confirmed that theory, but his instincts itched with suspicion. He minimized the footage and pulled up a new search window.
What the hell is the Russo family doing here?
Guardian’s data identified both men as Manhattan-based operatives. They had no known connections to Ditmas Park, a quiet, tree-lined neighborhood that prided itself on its low crime rate and charming coffee shops.
Why venture out there to coordinate a hit?
Next, he dived into property records. A financial search revealed standard tax filings and mortgage histories. One man, Dominic Rizzo, had no property holdings outside the Bronx. But DeLuca …
Ethan’s eyes narrowed as a flagged property appeared.
DeLuca co-owned a small rental property less than five miles from Star’s house. The acquisition was recent—under a year ago—and made through a shell company with no obvious links to the Bianchi family. The rental unit was listed as vacant, but the utilities showed sporadic activity over the last three months.