Page 27

T he SUV cut through darkness, headlights carving a path along the winding rural highway. I watched pale fingers of mist drift across the road, my mind cycling through contingencies, variables, potential escape routes—anything to avoid thinking about what might happen when we reached our destination.

Each mile that passed brought us closer to the abandoned Ironton Steel Works, where Felix Burns waited. Where Algerone was being held. Where this would finally end, one way or another.

Commander Reid drove, eyes constantly scanning the road ahead. Maxime sat beside me in the rear seat, back military-straight, face expressionless despite the slight tremor in his hands. He hadn't spoken since we'd left the Sentinel, his focus entirely internal. Preparing himself for whatever waited for us at the mill. For seeing Algerone again, possibly for the last time.

The rear-view mirror showed the second vehicle following at a precise distance, carrying Leo and the rest of Reid's tactical team. My chest tightened at the thought of Leo, remembering his face as we'd separated at the vehicles. The resolve in his eyes. The way his fingers had lingered on mine for that extra second, unwilling to let go.

I love you.

The words still echoed in my mind, unfamiliar and powerful. I hadn't imagined how three simple words could feel like both armor and vulnerability simultaneously. Like something worth fighting for. Worth surviving for.

My earpiece crackled, Lieutenant Dawson's voice cutting through the silence.

"ETA seven minutes. Alpha team in position at the rendezvous point."

"Copy that," I responded, checking the time. Exactly on schedule.

The plan was straightforward by necessity. I would enter alone as Felix had demanded, Maxime waiting at the designated exchange point outside. Reid's team would maintain perimeter surveillance, while Leo coordinated communications from the support vehicle, safely away from any potential conflict.

Clean. Simple. Controlled.

And almost certainly inadequate against whatever Felix had prepared.

My phone vibrated once in my pocket. A text from Leo, sent despite protocols against unnecessary communication. I checked it quickly, making sure Maxime couldn't see.

Leo: Thermal imaging shows six heat signatures inside the mill. One stationary (likely Algerone), one moving between rooms (likely Felix), four others positioned at strategic points (guards). Be careful. I love you.

I resisted the urge to respond, to offer reassurance I couldn't guarantee. Instead, I memorized the information, adding it to my mental map of what awaited me. Six signatures. Four guards. More than expected, but not unmanageable.

The highway gave way to a series of increasingly neglected side roads, civilization thinning out with each turn. The last few miles to the mill ran through ghost towns—the forgotten casualties of American industrial decline. Abandoned houses lined potholed streets, their windows blank eyes staring into nothingness. Corner stores with faded signs advertising products that hadn't been sold in decades. A playground overtaken by rust and weeds, swing sets creaking in the night wind.

These towns had burned too, in their way. Slower. Less spectacular. But just as completely as any fire I'd ever set.

The mill appeared on the horizon, its massive silhouette darker than the night sky behind it. Smokestacks rose like monolithic fingers, reaching for stars that offered no salvation. Chain-link fence surrounded the property, topped with barbed wire long since overcome by neglect and rust. The main structure loomed larger as we approached, a cathedral to dead industry, to America's forgotten heartland.

The SUV slowed as we approached the agreed-upon drop point, a clearing about fifty yards from the mill's main entrance.

Maxime broke his silence at last, voice tight. "Remember our agreement. You get Algerone out safely, no matter what else happens."

"I will."

"And Laskin?" He hesitated, jaw working. "Whatever our differences... bring yourself out, too. He would want that."

The admission seemed to cost him, acknowledgment that my survival mattered to Algerone—and perhaps, in some complicated way, to him as well. I nodded once, the closest thing to understanding we were likely to reach.

The vehicles stopped. Reid emerged first, scanning the surrounding area before signaling it was clear. I checked my earpiece again, making sure the connection to Leo was solid. His voice came through immediately, steady despite the tension I could hear beneath the surface.

"Comms check. Reading you five by five."

"Copy," I replied, drawing comfort from the familiar rhythm of his breathing through the connection. "Maintain position. Monitor channels three and four for any unusual traffic."

"Will do." A pause. "Xavier..."

"I know," I said, unable to articulate more through the open channel where others could hear. "I know."

The night air carried the metallic tang of an impending thunderstorm as I stepped from the vehicle. Overhead, clouds gathered, dark and heavy with electricity, occluding stars and moon alike. In the distance, lightning flickered, briefly illuminating the skeletal structure of the mill against the horizon. Perfect conditions for what was to come. Darkness provided cover, thunder would mask sounds, and rain would limit visibility further. Tactically advantageous, if I needed to make a quick escape.

Reid approached, face grim in the dim light. "Alpha team confirms no movement around the perimeter. Too quiet."

"That's how I'd set it up," I agreed. "Maximum focus on the primary entrance. The illusion of security."

"This whole thing stinks," Reid muttered, checking his weapon one final time. "You sure you won't reconsider wearing body armor?"

"Felix would detect it immediately. Can't risk it." I adjusted my jacket, ensuring easy access to the tools concealed within. "Stick to the plan. Thirty minutes. If I'm not out, initiate extraction protocol."

He nodded once. “Understood.”

Maxime stepped forward unexpectedly, his professional mask slipping just enough to reveal genuine concern. "Play the hand you're dealt, but remember who's shuffling the deck," he said quietly, the words carrying the weight of ritual. "That's what he always says before a dangerous mission."

I nodded, recognizing the phrase as something personal between him and Algerone. A shared mantra. A wish for luck disguised as tactical advice. "I'll bring him back."

I moved toward the mill's main gate. The metal gate stood partially open, an invitation that couldn't possibly be more obvious.

"I'm heading in," I said softly, knowing Leo would hear through the comms.

"Be safe," came his immediate response.

I paused at the threshold, allowing my eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness within. The mill's interior loomed vast and cavernous before me, machinery frozen in time like mechanical skeletons. Catwalks crisscrossed overhead, leading to offices and control rooms that overlooked the production floor. Steel beams supported a roof punctuated by skylights, most broken, allowing fingers of moonlight to penetrate the gloom.

The perfect place for an ambush.

I stepped inside, boots echoing against the concrete. The air inside was stale with the expected notes of rust and decay. But something else lingered beneath those scents. Something chemical. Industrial.

"Xavier Laskin." Felix's voice carried from somewhere above, amplified by the mill's natural acoustics. "Right on time. I appreciate punctuality."

I turned slowly, locating him on a catwalk about twenty feet overhead. He stood with casual confidence, hands in the pockets of an expensive hoodie that seemed jarringly out of place in these surroundings.

"Where's Algerone?" I called up, keeping my tone neutral, businesslike.

Felix gestured toward a door at the far end of the production floor. "Safe. For now."

I took another step forward, eyes scanning the shadows for the guards Leo's thermal imaging had detected. "I held up my end of the bargain. I'm here, alone, unarmed. Time for you to do the same."

A smile spread across Felix's face, too sharp to be genuine, too controlled to be spontaneous. "About that. There's been a slight change of plans."

My muscles tensed. "You said Algerone would be released once I arrived. That was our agreement."

"Yes, well." He shrugged, the gesture deliberately casual. "Agreements are based on mutual trust, aren't they? And I'm finding it difficult to trust the man who tortured my father to death."

There it was. The raw wound at the center of everything. Richard Thackery's death. The fire that had set everything else in motion.

"Your father let fourteen people die," I said, moving slowly to position myself for better sightlines across the factory floor. "Children. Families. He knew the wiring was faulty, knew the smoke detectors were missing, knew the fire escapes were inadequate. He chose profit over human lives."

"And you appointed yourself judge, jury, and executioner." Felix's voice remained conversational, but his eyes had hardened, glittering with something dangerous in the dim light. "You broke into his home. Tortured him. Burned him alive. Did you enjoy it? The power? The control?"

"This isn't about enjoyment," I countered, continuing my slow circuit of the room. "Never was. It's about balance. It's about justice the system fails to provide."

"Ah, justice." Felix's smile widened, revealing teeth that gleamed white in the darkness. "My favorite topic. Tell me, Xavier, do you think what I'm doing is justice? Do you recognize yourself in my methods?"

The question hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. I had seen the similarities from the beginning—the meticulous planning, the symbolic messaging, the use of fire as both tool and statement. Felix Burns was executing a vendetta with the same cold care I applied to my own hunts.

"The difference," I said carefully, "is that your father was guilty. He caused real deaths through deliberate negligence. I haven't."

"Haven't you?" Felix leaned forward, eyes suddenly intense. "How many have you killed, Xavier? How many homes have you burned? How many lives have you destroyed in your quest for 'balance'?"

I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. The number was higher than I cared to admit, even to myself.

"We're more alike than you want to acknowledge," Felix continued, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Both of us shaped by fire. Both of us willing to burn away what we consider corruption. The only real difference is who we've chosen to target."

"I target people who harm the innocent. People who escape conventional justice through money or connections or legal technicalities."

"And I'm targeting the man who murdered my father." Felix spread his hands, the gesture encompassing the entire mill. "Symmetry, don't you think? Poetry, even."

Something about his confidence, his casual stance despite the obvious danger of our confrontation, sent warning signals flaring through my mind. Felix Burns, with his genius IQ and military training, wouldn't risk face-to-face contact without overwhelming advantages. Wouldn't expose himself unless he was absolutely certain of his control over the situation.

"Where are your guards?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject. "The ones you strategically positioned around the building?"

Surprise flickered briefly across his face before his mask of control returned. "Ensuring our privacy. Making sure your backup respects the terms of our agreement."

A lie. Something was wrong. I tapped my earpiece, making it look like I was adjusting it while actually activating the secondary channel to Leo.

"Status check," I murmured, keeping my eyes on Felix.

Nothing. Dead air where Leo's voice should have been.

"Problems with your communications?" Felix asked, smirk returning. "That's unfortunate. But predictable."

Ice spread through my veins. "What did you do?"

"Signal jammers," he replied with a casual shrug. "Standard equipment for a meeting like this. You didn't think I'd allow you to maintain contact with your team, did you? I'm disappointed, Xavier. I expected more foresight from you."

My mind raced, calculating new variables, adjusting plans. Without comms, Leo wouldn't know what was happening inside. Wouldn't be able to warn me of approaching threats or coordinate with Reid's team if extraction became necessary.

"Now, let's talk about your father," Felix continued, pacing slowly along the catwalk. "Algerone Caisse-Etremont. A fascinating man. Did you know he spoke to me for hours while I was treating his injuries? Told me so many interesting things about you. About your childhood. About your mother."

The mention of my mother sent a jolt through me, sharp and unexpected. "You're lying. What's your endgame here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Felix spread his hands. "The same thing you wanted when you walked into my father's house that night. To restore balance. To mete out justice. To make you feel the same helplessness, the same terror he felt in his final moments."

He reached into his pocket, removing what looked like a small remote control. My muscles tensed, preparing to dodge whatever attack might come next. But Felix merely held the device, thumb hovering over its single button.

"Do you realize how thoroughly I've played you at every turn?" he asked, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "Every step you've taken has been exactly what I anticipated. Breaking into Leo's trailer? Child's play. I even smiled directly at your hidden camera. I found it within minutes of entering. Did you catch that moment, Xavier? When I looked right at you through your own surveillance?"

My jaw tightened, anger flaring at his smug confidence.

"The funeral home fire was particularly satisfying," Felix continued, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Setting those incendiary devices in the one location your family considered safe. And the car bomb that put your father in the hospital? Timed to the second. The evidence planted in the bunker that lured you right into my trap? You picked up that paperweight explosive exactly as I knew you would—predictable to the end."

"You've been lucky," I countered, fighting to maintain control.

Felix laughed, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. "Luck? Is that what you tell yourself? I've been watching you for years, Xavier. Learning how you think. How you hunt. I know you better than you know yourself." His smile sharpened. "You think you're so clever with your vigilante justice, but you're nothing more than a blunt instrument. No finesse. No true vision."

I took another step forward. "Says the man hiding behind remote detonators and car bombs. At least I face my targets directly."

"Oh, I'm facing you directly now," Felix countered, gesturing to the empty space between us. "And I've orchestrated every second of this encounter. Your desperate plan to access the mill? The hidden weapons you think I don't know about? Your team waiting outside with their extraction protocols?" His smile widened at my carefully controlled expression. "Yes, I know all of it. Every contingency you've prepared has already been neutralized."

The realization hit with sickening clarity. The chemical scent I'd noticed earlier. The guards Leo had detected, but I couldn't locate. The confidence with which Felix faced me despite being physically outmatched.

"The entire building," I said, feeling sick. "You've rigged the entire mill."

Felix's smile widened. "Impressive deduction. Yes, from foundation to rafters. Every support beam. Every exit. Every possible escape route." He gestured to the remote in his hand. "One button, Xavier. That's all it takes. No elaborate game. No complex trap. Just fire. Pure, elemental, inescapable."

I glanced toward the door I'd entered through, calculating the distance, the time needed to reach it. Too far. Felix would trigger the system before I made it halfway.

"Those heat signatures Leo detected weren't guards, were they?" I realized aloud. "They were incendiary devices. Positioned at strategic points throughout the building."

"Precisely," Felix confirmed, looking pleased that I'd caught on. "The thermal signatures mimicking human bodies are actually my custom incendiary packages. Military grade. Burns at temperatures high enough to melt steel. Specially designed to be odorless, colorless when applied. But once activated..." He closed his eyes briefly, expression almost rapturous. "They create the most beautiful flames you've ever seen."

"What about Algerone?" I asked, playing for time, mind racing through alternatives, escape routes, anything that might get us both out alive. "You burn the building, he dies too."

"A necessary sacrifice," Felix replied, though something flickered across his face—regret, perhaps. "He understood, in the end. Accepted his role in this final act. A father for a father. I just had to figure out which one you were willing to die for."

"You're insane.”

"No, Xavier." Felix shook his head slowly. "I'm a child of fire. Just like you. The difference is that I've accepted what that means. The responsibility it carries. The price we must pay."

My hand inched toward the gun concealed at my hip, wondering if I could shoot with enough accuracy to knock the remote from his hand before he triggered it. The distance was significant, the margin for error nonexistent. I was a damn good shot, but was I that good?

"Don't," Felix warned, seeing the movement despite my attempt at subtlety. "No matter how fast you are, you can’t hit me before I push the button."

"There are innocent people nearby," I argued, searching for any leverage, any way to reach whatever humanity might remain in him. "My team. They have nothing to do with your father's death."

"Collateral damage," Felix replied. "Unfortunate but unavoidable. Just like me when you burned my father alive. Just like my mother, who had to raise me without any support from him. Just like the decade of poverty we endured after he was gone, and the alcohol and the drugs my mother took to cope, and the bullet she ate to escape it!” His eyes hardened again. "The world is full of collateral damage, Xavier. People caught in the crossfire of others' vendettas."

My jaw tightened as he spoke, each word soaked in rage and self-pity like he expected it to mean something to me.It didn’t.

Yeah, I’d killed his father.

But that was business. This? This was personal.

“You want sympathy?” I asked, voice flat. “You think a sob story makes this okay?”

He flinched—just a little—but I stepped forward, my hand dropping from my side, not because I was backing down, but because I wanted him to see I didn’t need the gun. Not for this.

“You set fire to Leo’s home,” I said, my voice turning sharper, colder. “Burned down my family’s business. Put a fucking bomb in my dad’s car and landed him in the hospital. You nearly killed my father. And you want to stand there and talk to me about collateral damage? You didn’t come here for justice, Felix. You came for destruction. And you thought I’d let you walk away from that?”

He shook his head. “You’re not that kind of man, Xavier. Neither am I. We finish what we start.”

He raised the remote, thumb hovering. “Any last words? A final confession, maybe?”

“You want a confession? Fine.” I took a step closer. “I’d kill him again. Faster this time.”

His expression flickered. A crack. He hadn’t expected that.

“But you?” I went on, voice like ice sliding under skin. “You made it personal. You didn’t come for justice. You came for me. For mine. And that was your mistake.”

His jaw clenched. “Fuck you,” he said.

Then his thumb dropped on the button.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then the world ignited.

Flames roared to life from hidden points across the structure—walls, beams, even the floor beneath my boots. Heat slammed into me like a battering ram, forcing a flinch I didn’t have time to be ashamed of. I threw up an arm, shielding my face as the air warped in front of me, shimmering and alive.

The fire wasn’t wild. It was deliberate. Controlled. Lines of accelerant carved through the space like veins, fire racing along them.

A deep boom rattled the floor. Then another. Explosions, timed and placed. The structure shuddered as concrete and steel came crashing down across the path I’d used to enter. Smoke curled in thick black ribbons, rising fast. Breathing was already getting harder. Each inhale seared like sandpaper.

The metal above groaned—catwalks expanding, warping, their joints shrieking under pressure.

I backed up toward a support beam, dragging my arm across my mouth as if that could make the air cleaner. Sweat streamed down my spine, heat building in every direction.

And still, Felix stood there. Unmoving. Unbothered. Watching me burn.

“This is what he felt,” he said, voice calm, too calm, like we were just talking across a table. “My father. When you locked him in and lit the match.” His eyes found mine through the smoke. “He begged. I wonder if you will.”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t give him that.

But my pulse was pounding. Fast and heavy. Every exit was fire or rubble. The heat was rising by the second.

Felix took a step forward on the buckling catwalk. Flames licked at the steel behind him.“You took everything from me, Xavier. And now I return the favor.”

Fire roared all around me, climbing the walls. Smoke filled the air, thick and black, choking the oxygen from the room. The heat was unbearable, searing my skin through my clothes, making my lungs burn with each desperate breath.

And Felix watched it all from his perch above, face illuminated by the hellish glow of his creation.

"Ironic, isn't it?" he called, voice barely audible over the roaring flames. "The great Xavier Laskin, consumed by his own element."

The catwalk where Felix stood was beginning to warp, metal groaning as the intense heat compromised its structural integrity. I backed away from a falling beam, eyes never leaving his silhouette through the thickening smoke.

"Where's Algerone?" I shouted, dropping lower to find what little breathable air remained near the floor.

Felix's laugh echoed, hollow and manic, above the inferno's roar. Something in his expression shifted—the calculated mask slipping to reveal something wilder, more unhinged.

"Does it fucking matter now?" he called back, gesturing to the flames consuming everything around us. "We're both going to burn in here. Just like he did."

A deafening crack split the air. The catwalk beneath Felix suddenly trembled, metal twisting and groaning as the rivets began to fail under the extreme heat.

I expected panic, an attempt to escape. Instead, Felix smiled.

In one fluid motion, he vaulted over the railing, dropping the fifteen feet to the factory floor with surprising agility. He landed in a crouch, rising slowly as flames danced around him, casting his shadow in monstrous proportions against the far wall.

"I've spent years planning this moment," he said, pulling a matte black handgun from his hoodie pocket as he stalked toward me. "Studying you. Learning how you hunt. How you think." The weapon gleamed in the firelight. "And now it ends exactly as it began: with fire and pain and inescapable justice."

A coughing fit doubled me over as smoke seared my lungs. Through streaming eyes, I saw Felix pull something from his pocket—an oxygen mask. He slipped it over his face, taking a deep breath before shouting over the roar of the inferno.

"Did he beg?" His voice was muffled behind the mask, but the hatred came through clearly. "At the end, did my father beg?"

I wiped watering eyes with the back of my hand, fighting to stay upright as another wave of dizziness hit. The lack of oxygen was becoming critical.

"Yes," I managed between gasps.

Felix ripped the mask away from his face, a terrible smile spreading. He didn't seem to need words anymore. his eyes said everything. The same question burned in them: Would I beg too?

Our gazes locked through the thickening smoke.

I spat blood onto the burning floor between us and drew my gun.