Page 98 of Hunt Me

I help Iris up the stairs, as it’s clear each step is painful.

“Almost there,” I promise.

The medical room is equipped better than most emergency clinics. Nikolai doesn’t take chances with our family’s safety.

I get Iris onto the examination table and cut away the temporary bandage.

Sofia appears in the doorway, leaning against the doorway. “Need help?”

“Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

She doesn’t leave. Just watches me work, her sharp eyes tracking my movements.

I clean the wound properly this time using betadine and make a careful inspection to ensure no shrapnel is left. Iris appears completely unaffected as I begin sewing the skin together, making no sound.

“They’ll come.” Sofia’s voice cuts through the silence. “Federal agents. Warrants. Maybe worse.”

“I know.”

“What’s your play?” She asks.

I tie off the last suture and carefully apply fresh gauze. “We give them what they want.”

Iris’s eyes snap to mine. “What?”

“Not you.” I help her sit up, supporting her injured side. “Never you. But Morrison wasn’t working alone. Project Nightshade has oversight. Command structure. People who authorized killing your parents.”

Understanding dawns in Sofia’s expression. “Mutually assured destruction.”

“Exactly.” I pull my phone out and open an encrypted channel, fingers moving across the screen. “We have Morrison’s communications. Paper trails. Financial records. Everything. We make copies. Distribute them. Dead man’s switches trigger if anything happens to us. Cloud storage in twelve different countries.”

“They’ll want it buried.” Iris touches my hand. “Along with us.”

“Which is why we don’t bury it.” I finish typing rapidly, then force myself to slow down, to breathe, not to let the adrenaline dictate my pace. “We make it clear that our silence is guaranteed. No one talks about Nightshade. No one comes after us. Clean break. But if anything happens to any of us—if we disappear, if we’re arrested on false charges, if we’re hospitalized unexpectedly—everything goes public. Every outlet. Every agency. Every whistleblower network.”

Sofia straightens, her mind clearly working through the angles. “Leverage they can’t ignore.”

“An offer they can’t refuse.” I finish the message and hit send, then turn back to securing Iris’s bandage properly. “We control the narrative. We control the outcome.”

The reply comes faster than expected. Thirty-seven minutes.

I stare at the encrypted message and read it three times, looking for tricks, for hidden meanings, for any indication this is a trap disguised as negotiation.

“What is it?” Iris leans over my shoulder, careful of her injury.

I steady her. “They’re willing to negotiate.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Depends on the terms.” I scroll through the message slowly, digesting every word. “They want a meeting. Neutral ground. Tomorrow at noon.”

Sofia pushes off the doorframe, her expression hardening. “It’s a trap.”

“Almost certainly.” I keep reading. “But they’re scared. Look at the language. ‘Mutual interests.’ ‘Unfortunate circumstances.’ ‘Peaceful resolution.’ These aren’t the words of people in control. They’re the words of people who’ve just realized they’re not.”

“They killed my parents.” Iris’s voice drops. “Morrison was just the weapon. These are the people who gave the order.”

I set the phone down and turn to face her fully, taking both her hands in mine. “Which is why we don’t go in unprepared, and why we don’t go in alone.”