Page 60 of Echos and Empires (After #3)

Hardee slipped through the shadows with a fluidity that set Liam’s nerves jangling. The air felt charged, thick with the wrongness of things unseen. Liam’s suspicion spread like ink in water as Hardee edged further ahead, his footfalls nearly soundless.

It happened so quickly—a heartbeat between trust and treachery. Hardee wheeled around, gun raised, betrayal written on every line of his face.

“Drop it, Liam.”

The words struck like the bullet meant for Liam’s heart. A double agent. Victor’s hand pulling the strings. The moment slowed to a painful crawl as the trap closed in.

The world tilted, a surreal shift that made him question the ground under his feet. How could Hardee, one of their own, be in league with Victor? The possibility had lurked in his mind, a shadow he refused to give shape. But now it was all too real, staring him down the barrel of a gun.

“You son of a bitch.” Liam heard how rough his voice was, raw with disbelief.

“Did you really think you’d win this? That everyone was stupid enough to attack or leave just because some things happened to scare them the other day?

” Hardee’s smirk was a knife twist, a mockery of the bond they’d formed over late nights staring at screens for the last six months.

“Kirk knew because of me. Now you know because of me, too.”

Liam’s heart hammered against his ribs. It was like every betrayal he’d ever known, distilled into one brutal instant.

He couldn’t let it paralyze him, couldn’t let Victor take more than he already had.

The team looked to Liam, waiting for a cue, their own shock reflected in wide eyes and tense grips.

“Hardee, don’t do this.” The plea slipped out, a remnant of hope that hadn’t yet accepted the truth. But the look in Hardee’s eyes was cold and resolute.

Liam’s mind raced, processing the danger, the duplicity, the way Victor always seemed to twist fate in his favor. He needed to act, needed to lead, but the enormity of it all hung around his neck like a weight, threatening to drag him under.

Hardee’s reinforcements were closing in, footsteps and shouted orders filling the space with an echo of betrayal. Everything they’d worked for, everything they’d planned, was unraveling in front of him, and it all traced back to Hardee’s treachery.

“Go!” Liam shouted, his command breaking the paralysis. His voice was hoarse with anger and urgency.

Time snapped back to normal speed. The team scattered, taking cover as gunfire erupted.

Liam dove behind a column, his thoughts a furious mix of strategy and raw emotion.

The betrayal had been clean, surgical in its precision, and the realization stung like salt in a fresh wound.

Hardee had played them all and had been Victor’s pawn from the start.

Liam’s hands were steady as he checked his weapon, but inside he was a riot of conflict. This was supposed to be their moment, the turn of the tide. Instead, they were fighting for their lives, and every shot that rang out was a reminder of how quickly the tables had turned.

“Hold your positions!” he yelled, forcing his voice to carry the strength he needed to project. If they could hold the line, they might still have a chance. They had to regroup, had to push back with everything they had.

Hardee’s laughter carried over the din, a taunt that curled Liam’s insides with rage. “Always one step behind, aren’t you?”

Liam forced himself to focus, to channel the turmoil into action. He wouldn’t let Hardee see him break, wouldn’t give Victor the satisfaction of seeing them fall apart. His mind snapped through possibilities, looking for a way to salvage the mission, to keep the team intact.

“Alex!” he called, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Alex responded with a burst of gunfire, covering the others as they repositioned. “Still breathing, if that’s what you mean.”

“Circle right,” Liam ordered, mapping out a desperate strategy. “Flank them.”

Alex’s acknowledgement came as a terse nod. He moved, leading two of the security men around the perimeter.

Liam’s eyes locked on Hardee’s position, the man he once trusted now his greatest threat. It was unthinkable, but it was happening, and he had to face it head on. The trap might have sprung, but the fight was far from over. Liam would see to that personally.

Chaos erupted with the fury of a storm unleashed.

The sharp percussion of gunfire shattered the fragile silence, each shot a punctuation of survival and desperation.

Liam ducked low, the betrayal searing through him as hotly as the bullets that strafed the air.

In the chaos, Hardee was a constant, his presence like a jagged wound that refused to heal.

Liam moved toward him with grim determination, knowing he had to end this before Victor slipped further away.

Each step was a struggle against the hesitation that clawed at his resolve, a fight against the memories that screamed friend.

He pushed forward, the air thick with smoke and the acrid scent of betrayal.

The team fought fiercely, their focus on staying alive as the odds mounted against them.

Every decision Liam made felt like a cruel twist—strategies turned to dust, friendships turned to ash.

He needed to regain control, to stop Hardee before it was too late.

But each step dragged at him, laden with the weight of their shared history.

“Liam!” Hardee’s voice cut through the chaos, a taunt and a plea wrapped into one.

Liam gritted his teeth, anger boiling over the ache. “You’ve gone too far, Hardee. Don’t think I won’t stop you.”

The words echoed louder than gunshots, a promise and a warning. But still, there was that hesitation, the shred of loyalty that kept him from pulling the trigger. It was the same impulse that had brought them all together, a shared belief in something more, something better.

“You’re wasting time, Liam.” Hardee’s laugh was sharp, bitter. “Victor knows you’re here. Knows you’re weak.”

Liam’s heart clenched, his resolve stretching thin. Weak. That’s what Hardee wanted him to be. That’s what Victor always counted on.

He took a breath, long and ragged, and forced himself to keep moving, to keep fighting. The team needed him focused. They needed him ruthless. He was supposed to be the navigator, the one who always found a way. But Hardee’s betrayal had set him adrift in a sea of doubt.

“Hold positions!” he shouted, trying to drown out the uncertainty, trying to keep the team intact.

The noise was deafening, a chorus of combat that underscored the urgency of their situation. They were pinned, fighting for their lives, and Liam knew the only way out was through. Through the bullets. Through Hardee. Through the ghost of what they’d once been.

Liam lunged from cover, moving toward Hardee with renewed determination. The pain in his chest wasn’t from exertion. It was from knowing what he had to do. It was from the finality of the decision he was about to make.

“You were supposed to have my back,” Liam yelled, the words cutting as sharply as the shots they exchanged.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Hardee sneered. “You think I’m the only one?”

Liam stumbled at that, the suggestion of deeper treachery threatening to undo him. He shook it off, focusing on the here and now. On stopping Hardee before Victor got too far. But doubt crept in, a whisper that refused to be silenced. Was there more? Who else had Victor turned?

He blinked away the uncertainty, blinked away the hurt. This was bigger than them. Bigger than friendship, bigger than loyalty. This was about the mission, about Emma. About not letting Victor win.

The halls seemed to close in, the walls shrinking with every passing moment, with every precious second they lost. Liam’s world narrowed to the grim necessity of stopping Hardee, to the way their paths had twisted so completely.

The final confrontation played out like a scene in slow motion. Hardee’s gun raised, a mirror to his own. Liam’s mind flashed with images of laughter, trust, a future they once believed in. It was all gone, and Liam had to make it mean something.

He squeezed the trigger.

Once.

Twice.

Hardee’s eyes met his, a world of betrayal and regret passing between them as he fell.

The moment hung in the air, suspended, until Liam’s breath pulled him back into the chaos, into the immediacy of what had to happen next. He’d lost more than a friend. He’d lost a part of himself, a part that still felt raw and exposed. But there was no time to grieve.

“Regroup!” Liam shouted, the command a balm to the hollow ache in his chest. The fight wasn’t over. Not yet.

His hand twisted around the knob to the room Victor had to be in, shoving the door inward with no resistance.

The window was open, almost mockingly, its curtains fluttering like a taunt in the night air.

Victor was gone. Rage twisted through Liam, an ugly thing that took root in the pit of his stomach and spread with each breath.

The trap had snapped shut, and they’d lost more than the mission.

They’d lost a friend, a brother. The room was a stark reminder of failure, of lives taken and nothing gained.

He barked orders to the others, sending them to lick their wounds and regroup.

Then it was just him and Alex, the silence between them filled with everything Liam couldn’t bring himself to say.

He stared at the open window, the chill of the night mocking his effort, his sacrifice. Everything he’d pushed for, every risk he’d taken, had slipped through his fingers like sand. The emptiness of the room was a punch to the gut, a taunting echo of Victor’s escape.

Liam’s voice was raw, shredded by the rage and helplessness churning inside. “Get back. Regroup at point zero,” he shouted, the words harsher than he intended.

The team moved, a ragged assembly of shadows and regret. He could see it in their eyes—the disappointment, the hurt. They’d counted on him to lead, and he’d led them straight into a trap.

Alex stepped up beside him, his face a mask of unreadable calm. “This isn’t over,” he said, but the weight of what was unsaid hung heavily between them.

“No,” Liam replied, the single syllable carrying a world of determination and defeat. “It’s not.”

The night closed in, thick and suffocating, as they moved through the compound. The memories of the fight, of Hardee, were ghosts that refused to leave him. Each step was a reminder of how close they’d been, of how far they still had to go.

“Everyone, you’re coming back to where we’ve been hiding out. The walk will take some time. If you so much as consider betraying us, I will kill every one of you. My family is not going to be in danger again. Guns on the ground.”

Without hesitation, the team dropped their guns, likely too afraid to say anything with the anger in Liam’s tone. Liam picked them up, passing some to Alex since he couldn't physically hold them all.

“They’ll regroup,” Alex said, his tone a mix of certainty and resolve. “We’ll have another shot.”

“We have to,” Liam said, more to himself than to Alex. His mind was a knot of anger and desperation, tangled with the images of everything they’d lost.

The others fell away, leaving just him and Alex to navigate the bleakness of their return.

The compound was a graveyard of plans gone wrong, the lifeless walls echoing with silence and spent energy.

Liam felt the absence of the others, the absence of Hardee, like a hollow where his heart used to be.

“Hell of a night,” Alex said, the understatement almost absurd.

Liam managed a tight, humorless smile. “You could say that.”

The silence stretched out, but it was a shared one, filled with the things that only they understood—the cost, the stakes, the refusal to let this be the end.

“We’ll find him, we’ll throw Victor off before he bolts again, I’m not sure how long we can stay at the caves now that we’ve outright attacked him.”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed, his mind already running through the options. The mission might have failed, but he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

They stepped out into the open air, the taste of it cold and bitter on Liam’s tongue. Every breath carried the weight of their losses, the unspoken grief for Hardee, the unrelenting need to push forward.

“We’ll get her back to safety, get the kids born into a safe place,” Alex said, quiet but certain.

Liam nodded, the thought of Emma the only light in the darkness pressing in on him. He wouldn’t fail again. He couldn’t. They would regroup. They would strike. And next time, Victor wouldn’t get away.

The stars were distant, indifferent witnesses as they walked into the night, the silence between them heavy with resolve and the ghosts of all that could have been.