The night air carried the scent of burnt metal and blood as Ochieng's team retreated to their safe house. The stolen data was their greatest weapon, but it also made them the Syndicate's number-one target.
Jaylen connected the USB to a secure laptop, his eyes scanning the countless offshore accounts, government bribes, and black-market deals.
"Darius is finished," he muttered. "We leak this, and every law enforcement agency, every rival, every former ally will come for his throat."
Ochieng sat in the dimly lit room, his fingers interlocked. "Not yet."
Isabelle frowned. "You want to hold onto this?"
Ochieng's eyes gleamed. "We don't just destroy him. We make him suffer first."
--
At exactly 3 a.m., Ochieng sent a single text to Darius Volkov.
> I own your empire now. I'll be waiting at the place where it all began.
Darius received the message in his high-rise office, his hands clenching into fists.
He knew exactly where Ochieng meant.
The old docks.
Where his brother, Nikolai, had first tried to execute Ochieng.
Where the Syndicate had first underestimated the phantom that now haunted them.
Darius slammed his glass against the wall, shattering it. "Mobilize every man we have. He dies tonight."
---
The docks were silent when Ochieng arrived, but he wasn't alone.
Jaylen, Isabelle, Tielen, and their most trusted allies stood behind him.
Across from them, an army of Syndicate enforcers, their numbers overwhelming.
Then, Darius Volkov emerged.
A tall, imposing figure dressed in black, his eyes filled with murderous rage. "You should have run when you had the chance."
Ochieng smirked. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."
Darius snapped his fingers. "Kill them all."
The battle erupted in an instant.
Gunfire lit up the night, the echoes of war stretching across the harbor.
Jaylen's sniper shots cracked through the chaos, dropping enemy after enemy.
Tielen danced between combatants, his blade slicing through flesh like paper.
Isabelle's daggers found their targets, taking down assassins before they could strike.
And Ochieng?
He moved like a ghost—unseen, unstoppable.
One by one, he dismantled the Syndicate's strongest fighters.
Then, it was just him and Darius.
---
Darius threw the first punch. Ochieng dodged.
A knife slashed toward his ribs. Ochieng caught Darius's wrist, twisting it until the blade clattered to the ground.
Darius roared, charging again. This time, Ochieng didn't dodge.
He caught him by the throat.
Pressed him against a shipping container.
"You were never the king," Ochieng whispered. "Just a pawn who thought he was untouchable."
With one final strike, Ochieng drove his fist into Darius's chest, sending him crashing to the ground.
Darius gasped for breath, blood spilling from his lips. "You… you think this ends with me?"
Ochieng knelt beside him, his voice like ice. "No. But it starts with you."
With that, he walked away, leaving Darius to die alone.
---
As the sun rose over the city, Ochieng stood atop a skyscraper, overlooking the empire he had dismantled.
Jaylen walked up beside him. "So… what now?"
Ochieng smiled. "Now, we build something greater."
The Syndicate was dead.
But Ochieng's legend was just beginning.
---