Page 66 of Monstrosity

The Irish boss doesn't sleep much either, apparently.

"Raider," he greets. "My boys are getting antsy. Tell me we're not sitting on our arses for nothing."

"Eight PM sharp," I confirm. "Your men hit the boats while we take the warehouse. Bembe won't know what hit him."

"He better not. I've got a lot riding on this—money and reputation." His pause is heavy with meaning. "This better be worth it"

"It will."

"We’ll see," But there's dark humor in his voice. "My nephew speaks highly of you all. Says you're a man of your word."

"Doran's good people."

"Aye, he is. Which is why I'm trusting you with this. Eight PM. Don't be late."

The line goes dead.

Typical Irishman—always have to have the last word.

"Friendly as always," Tor observes.

"He's risking a lot," Runes says. "Twenty million in product doesn't just disappear without consequences. The cartel will come looking."

"Let them look," I say. "After tonight, Bembe's organization will be too scattered to mount any real response. Cut off the head..."

"And the snake still thrashes," Ivar finishes. "But yeah, it'll buy us time. Maybe enough to establish new territories before they reorganize. Maybe even enough to kill the Culebra cartel once and for all."

We spend the next hour going over details one more time.

Entry points, extraction routes, contingencies for when—not if—things go sideways.

Every man knows his role, every possibility accounted for.

Except the ones we can't predict.

"Weapons check at noon," Runes decides. "Final briefing at six. We roll at seven-thirty."

"What about protection here?" I ask. "The women and kids?—"

"Fenrir's staying with a full security detail. Nobody gets in or out without his say-so." Runes meets my eyes. "Your family will be safe, Rio. You have my word."

I nod, trusting him completely.

In this life, a president's word is law.

The meeting breaks up as the sun rises, brothers heading off to prepare in their own ways.

Some will spend the day with family, some in meditation or prayer, some cleaning weapons obsessively.

We all have our rituals before violence.

Mine is breakfast with my girls.

I find them in the kitchen, Dasha helping Cali with her cereal while Florencia reads at the table.

It's such a normal scene it makes my chest tight.

This is what I'm fighting for.