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T he projection room buzzed, transformed into a war room of unprecedented power. Every screen glowed with data streams, property records, satellite imagery, and Phoenix's digital footprint. Three days since Walsh's interrogation, and we were finally closing in.

I stood at the center of it all, directing the hunt while ignoring the low throb in my temple where Felix's baton had connected. The bandage was gone now, replaced by a thin line of stitches War had insisted on. His concerned gaze tracked me as I moved around the command center, but he knew better than to suggest I rest. Not while Phoenix still breathed.

"Burns Innovations owns seventeen properties across southeast Ohio," Leo announced, his fingers dancing across his keyboard as he pulled up a detailed map on the main screen. Red pins marked each location, clustering primarily in rural areas. "Most are registered as server farms or data centers, but three are listed under various shell companies I've traced back to him."

I studied the pattern. "Each location has multiple escape routes, natural barriers, and isolation. Strategic placement."

Algerone stood at the periphery, hands clasped behind his back as he studied our work. His presence still unsettled me, but I'd come to appreciate the resources he'd made available. For all my resistance to his involvement in my life, there was no denying that having the Etremont dynasty's backing made hunting Phoenix considerably more efficient.

"He's applying his military training," Algerone noted. "Those positions follow special forces protocol. Maximum defense with guaranteed escape routes."

Leo nodded, pulling up Burns' military record on a secondary screen. "Cyber operations division, but with additional certifications in tactical planning and field operations. Far more combat training than your typical tech specialist."

I felt a flicker of grudging admiration for Phoenix's methodical approach. He'd built his entire business as both cover and infrastructure for his vendetta. Patient. Calculating. Traits I recognized all too well.

"Pull up the activity logs from Walsh's phone," I instructed, moving to stand behind Leo. The proximity was deliberate, my chest nearly touching his back as I reached around him to point at the screen. "There should be communication timestamps we can cross-reference with location data."

Leo's fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up the encrypted messaging app Walsh had used to communicate with Phoenix. Fragments of conversations appeared, most deliberately vague, but the timestamps were intact.

"Look at this pattern," Leo said, highlighting a sequence of dates. "Burns contacted Walsh consistently at three-day intervals, always between 2:00 and 4:00 AM. But the pattern shows gaps here, here, and here." His finger traced the empty spaces in the timeline. "And if we overlay these with the location data from the cell tower pings..."

The map shifted as Leo synchronized the data, triangulating the locations from which Phoenix had sent his messages. Three distinct clusters appeared, all centered around Burns Innovation properties.

"He's rotating," I realized, the pattern suddenly crystallizing. "Moving between these three locations on a fixed schedule. Military protocol—never stay in one place too long."

Algerone moved closer, eyes narrowed as he studied the pattern. "Which means he'll be at this location next," he said, tapping the easternmost cluster. "Based on the rotation cycle."

A property in Vinton County, nestled against the edge of the Wayne National Forest. Isolated. Defensible. Perfect for someone who wanted to remain hidden while maintaining operational capacity.

"We need to move now," I said, already calculating the resources required for a strike. "If we hit him before he expects us, we have the element of surprise."

"Not so fast," Algerone cautioned. "Consider what we know about Burns. He's methodical. Paranoid. His entire vendetta is based on meticulous planning and observation."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, irritation flaring at the delay.

"That we verify before committing resources," Algerone replied, unfazed by my tone. "A reconnaissance mission. Confirm his presence, assess defenses, then develop a targeted approach."

"And if he detects the recon team? If Felix gets even a hint we're onto him, he'll vanish. Change his pattern. We'll be back at square one with nothing but empty buildings."

Algerone nodded. "Which is why we use a ghost team first to confirm his location," he explained. "Once we have confirmation, we send in the strike team directly behind them. Hit him before he has time to react."

"I can set up remote surveillance," Leo suggested, already pulling up satellite imagery of the target property. "We could deploy micro-drones for perimeter monitoring, then tap into their security feeds once we establish blind spots."

"Smart," Xion agreed, leaning over Leo's shoulder. "Those new Ghost Bat tactical drones can maintain position for hours without detection. Perfect for a covert op."

"No," I said immediately, the word sharp enough to make Leo look up in surprise. "You're not going anywhere near this location. Not physically, not digitally. If Phoenix detects your signature in their systems, you become an even bigger target."

My expression hardened. "With all due respect, I'm not sitting this out. My skills are necessary for this operation."

The tension in the room shifted as everyone registered the subtle power struggle unfolding. Xion and Xander, who had been quietly reviewing tactical options at a side terminal, exchanged glances. Maxime carefully avoided making eye contact with anyone, though I caught him glancing at Algerone as if seeking guidance.

"We'll need a multi-layered approach," Algerone interjected smoothly, diffusing the building tension. "Mr. Astrada's technical expertise will be essential, but can be deployed remotely. The actual reconnaissance should be handled by operatives less personally connected to the situation."

My jaw clenched at Algerone once again positioning himself as the voice of reason. What made it worse was that he wasn't wrong. Leo was too valuable to risk, but we needed his skills.

"My Alpha team will handle the ground reconnaissance," Algerone stated, nodding to Maxime, who immediately began typing on his tablet. "They're specialists in covert observation. Former special forces with extensive experience in passive surveillance."

"I'll coordinate digital surveillance," Leo said. His eyes met mine, challenging me to contradict him. "Remote access only, multiple proxies, completely untraceable."

The room waited for my response. Despite Algerone's resources and Xander's skills, this was ultimately my hunt. Phoenix had targeted me, had threatened what was mine. The final decision had to be mine.

I met Leo's determined gaze. "Fine. But you operate from the secure terminal in our quarters, with triple authentication and a physical kill switch I control. Any sign of your position being compromised and I pull the plug, no questions asked."

Relief flickered across Leo's face, quickly replaced by determination. "Deal," he agreed, already turning back to his screens to begin preparations.

"We move tonight," I declared, looking to Algerone for confirmation. "Full tactical package, communications blackout except for encrypted channels. Ghost team goes in first for confirmation, strike team follows immediately to contain him. No chance for him to slip away."

"I'll lead the strike team personally," Algerone stated, his tone leaving no room for debate.

Maxime's head snapped up from his tablet, alarm evident in his usually composed features. "Sir, with all due respect, that's too great a risk. We have trained operatives who can handle this."

"This isn't negotiable, Maxime," Algerone replied, his voice gentle but firm. "Felix Burns has attacked my family. He's infiltrated my organization. This isn't merely business. It's personal. I need to handle this myself."

The room fell silent. Algerone Caisse-Etremont, notorious for orchestrating from the shadows, was putting himself directly in the line of fire. It was unprecedented.

"Then I'm coming with you," I said, the words out before I could reconsider them.

Algerone's eyes met mine, surprise flickering briefly before being replaced with something that looked disturbingly like pride. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Sir," Maxime tried again, genuine concern breaking through his professional facade. "At least allow me to accompany you as well."

"No," Algerone and I said simultaneously, but Algerone continued, "We need you coordinating from here with Leo. If something goes wrong, you're the only one besides us who knows all the contingency protocols." He placed a hand on Maxime’s shoulder briefly and that seemed to calm him.

As the room erupted into activity, I moved to Leo's side. "Promise me you'll be careful. No unnecessary risks."

Leo's hand covered mine, squeezing briefly. "Same goes for you. We're better together."

Together. The word settled in my chest, both comforting and terrifying. I'd spent so long operating alone, trusting only my own judgment, my own skills. Having Leo as a partner—truly a partner, not just someone to protect—was still an adjustment. One that felt increasingly necessary.

I nodded before straightening, my expression hardening as I returned to mission planning. Phoenix thought he understood me, thought he could predict my moves because he'd studied my past hunts. But he'd made one critical miscalculation.

He'd only studied the hunter I had been. Not the one I'd become with Leo at my side.

H ours later, our preparations complete, I found myself alone with Algerone in the weapons vault beneath the Sentinel. The space gleamed with polished metal and composite materials, every surface designed for maximum efficiency. Handguns, rifles, tactical gear, and specialized equipment lined the walls in perfect order. It reminded me of how I kept my own room—everything in its place, nothing extraneous.

"You prefer precision handguns for your work," Algerone observed, opening a case to reveal a collection of custom firearms. He selected one, a matte black 9mm with a custom grip and integrated suppressor, and offered it to me grip first. "This should suit your requirements."

I accepted the weapon, checking the slide and sighting down the barrel before testing its weight and balance. Perfect, as expected. "How do you know my preferences?"

"I've studied all my children. Your methods, your strengths, your patterns. It's what any responsible father would do."

"Most fathers don't keep dossiers on their children's shooting techniques," I pointed out, examining the custom ammunition laid out in precision rows.

A ghost of a smile touched Algerone's lips. "Most fathers don't have children like mine."

The statement hung between us, laden with implications neither of us was ready to fully examine. For all his faults—and they were numerous—Algerone had never pretended we were normal. Had never expected us to be anything other than what we were. There was something almost freeing in that acceptance, something I was reluctant to acknowledge.

"Walsh's phone contained more than just communication logs," Algerone said after a moment, changing the subject as he handed me a tactical harness. "My team found fragments of Phoenix's larger plan. It seems Walsh wasn't his only inside man."

I stilled, hands pausing on the sidearm I was checking. "What do you mean?"

"Phoenix has been systematically infiltrating organizations connected to your family. Not just my security team, but local law enforcement, utility companies, even the private security firm your brother War uses for his clinic. This wasn't a hastily planned vendetta. This was years in the making."

The implications sent ice through my veins. "How far has the infiltration spread?"

"We're still mapping the extent, but it's substantial." Algerone checked a matte black pistol similar to the one he'd given me before securing it in his own tactical harness. "Which is why tonight's operation is crucial. We need to confirm his location and contain him before he can activate whatever network he's built."

"He's learning from my playbook," I murmured, checking the extra magazines before securing them to my belt. "Studying his target, establishing patterns, cutting off support systems before striking."

"Yes," Algerone agreed. "There's a certain poetic symmetry to it, isn't there?"

I looked up sharply. "I'm nothing like Felix Burns."

"Of course not," Algerone replied smoothly. "Burns is too attached. He’s made this personal. You are smarter than that. His personal investment has made him emotional, and that is why he will fail and you will succeed."

His calm assessment of my nature should have been disturbing. Instead, I found myself nodding in agreement. Algerone understood the fundamental truth that had always separated me from simple killers: I didn't hurt people because I enjoyed suffering. I executed judgment because someone needed to maintain balance in a world where the system failed.

Our eyes met again, and for once, I didn't look away. At that moment, I saw something I hadn't allowed myself to recognize before. Algerone didn't just understand my nature; he shared it. The methodical precision, the calculated violence, the absolute conviction in one's own judgment. These weren't traits I'd inherited randomly. They were passed down, carefully cultivated in a bloodline designed for exactly this purpose.

"Ready?" Algerone asked, breaking the moment as he secured the last of his equipment.

I nodded, pushing aside the uncomfortable revelations to focus on the mission ahead. "Let's go hunting."

As we headed toward the vehicle bay where the team was assembling, my phone vibrated.

Leo: Set up in our quarters. Triple secured as promised. Satellite uplink established. Be careful out there. Come back to me.

X: Always. Keep the connection open. I want to hear your voice the whole time.

The tactical team waited in formation by two unmarked SUVs. At their head stood a man I didn't recognize. He was tall, with the lean muscle of a distance runner rather than a weightlifter. His dark hair was cut military-short, but something about the way he carried himself suggested special forces rather than conventional military. The four operators behind him maintained the same disciplined posture, gear checked and ready.

To my surprise, Misha was there too, kneeling beside an open equipment case with a needle and thread, making adjustments to what looked like tactical gear. He was speaking in rapid French with the team leader as he worked, their conversation flowing with the natural cadence of native speakers.

"Commander Reid," Algerone greeted the team leader. "Everything prepared as specified?"

"Oui, monsieur," Reid replied, then quickly switched to English. "Yes, sir. Team is prepped for passive reconnaissance only. Ghost protocol as ordered."

Misha looked up from his sewing, flushing slightly when he noticed my questioning look. "One of the tactical vests had a tear along the seam," he explained, tying off his thread. "Could have compromised the ballistic insert's positioning. Fashion emergencies aren't limited to runways."

"Misha's been invaluable," Reid added. "When our equipment specialist noticed the damage an hour ago, Monsieur Etremont suggested Misha might be able to help. He repaired three vests with stronger stitching than the originals."

"I should get back upstairs before the lockdown.” Misha hesitated, then spoke to Reid in French briefly before disappearing up the stairs.

I activated my comm unit, hearing the immediate click of connection followed by a chorus of confirmations from the team. The final voice to join was Leo's, coming through with perfect clarity from his secure position at the Sentinel.

"Satellite uplink active and micro-drones deployed," he reported. "I've got real-time imaging from both sources and a backdoor into their perimeter security. The Ghost Bats are maintaining position at three key vantage points. They won't know we're looking."

"Good work," I acknowledged, settling into the lead SUV's passenger seat while Algerone took the wheel. "Keep the connection active but minimize digital footprint. If Phoenix has half the skills we think he does, he'll be monitoring for access attempts."

Commander Reid and his team filed into the second vehicle, their movements displaying the synchronized precision of a unit that had operated together for years.

"Already handled," Leo replied, and I could hear the confident smile in his voice. "I'm bouncing through seventeen proxy servers and three different VPN networks. As far as anyone can tell, the access is coming from inside Burns Innovations' own network."

My lips curved into a small smile despite the tension of the moment. Leo's technical brilliance never failed to impress me, even now when it was causing him to take risks I'd prefer he avoid.

The convoy pulled out of the Sentinel's underground garage. As the compound disappeared behind us, there was a momentary tightness in my chest, awareness of the physical distance growing between Leo and me. I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the mission parameters, the tactical approach, the contingency plans.

Phoenix thought he knew me, thought he could predict my movements based on studying my past. But he'd never seen me hunt alongside Algerone. He'd never faced the full resources of both the Laskin family and the Etremont dynasty aligned against a single target.

Tonight, that would change. Tonight, we'd find him. And once we did, I would make absolutely certain that Phoenix understood exactly who and what he'd challenged.