Chapter 15

Recognition.

The new file my ghost had sent me… it was…fuck, I don’t even know what it was. A death sentence wrapped in metadata. A breadcrumb trail soaked in blood. On the surface, it was terrifying. Clearly stating that someone dangerous, really dangerous had eyes, ears, and intentions set on killing both of us. But the deeper Nico and I went into it… the more it got under my skin. In that slow, skin peeling way. Because it wasn’t just a threat. It was personal. A whole file. On me. On my men. My ops. My allies. The time of day I liked to take a fucking shit. The routes I rotated through on shipments. Where my snipers perched. Where my mother lived. But what burned was my classification. Yellow. A mid-range threat. I sat back in the chair, hands clenched so tight the mouse cracked beneath my grip.

“Fucking bastards,” I muttered. “I’m a high-level threat! I’m Irish mafia, for fuck’s sake. I have guns, men, war stockpiles-shit, I’ve got Nico on payroll and

he’s half a damn Al.”

Nice gave me a look but didn’t argue. Then we opened her file. She gave it to me. Maybe it was a mistake, heat of the moment, everything falling apart and she didn’t have time to strip it out of the dump… but I don’t think it was. I think she wanted me to see it.

Her codename: Specter.

Also listed under an alias: Sage.