The address Bridget had given them looked like a joke.
A run-down computer repair shop sandwiched between a pawn shop and a liquor store in one of the city's most forgotten corners. The windows were covered in newspapers. A flickering neon sign spelled out "FIX IT FAST," half of the letters burned out.
Siena stepped out of the car and glanced at Alexander. He wasn't wearing his usual tailored suit today. Instead, he wore jeans and a black jacket, blending in with the grimy street. His eyes, however, held the same focus—sharp, dangerous.
Reeve adjusted his earpiece and gave a subtle nod. "Backup is in place, two blocks away. We go quiet, fast, and clean. This guy's slippery."
Siena exhaled. Her heart was thumping, not just from nerves but from the gravity of what they were walking into. If Bridget was right, this man held the key to dismantling Holden's empire.
"Let's go."
They approached the door in silence. Reeve knocked three times.
No answer.
He knocked again, louder this time.
A pause.
Then the sound of bolts being unlatched.
The door creaked open two inches, and a single brown eye peeked out.
"Closed," the man muttered.
Reeve flashed a badge, real or fake—Siena wasn't sure. "We're not here for repairs. We need to talk."
"I don't talk to cops."
"We're not cops."
There was a beat of silence.
Then the door shut.
Siena thought they'd lost him—until it reopened completely. The man standing there was lean, early thirties, wearing a hoodie three sizes too big. His hair was a chaotic mess, and he had smudges of grease on his fingers.
"You've got sixty seconds before I decide if you're worth my time," he said flatly.
Alexander stepped forward. "We need access to Holden's server—the one he built as a kill switch."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You're out of your mind."
Siena stepped in. "We're not here to arrest you. We're here to take him down. For good. And we know you're the only one who can help us."
Something in her tone made the man hesitate. He scratched the back of his neck.
"Name's Milo," he said finally. "And if you're serious about going after Richard Holden, then you're already dead."
---
Inside, the shop was a mess of wires, towers of hard drives, and blinking monitors. Screens showed code scrolling at a dizzying speed. It was more a command center than a store.
Milo motioned them to sit on cracked leather chairs in the back.
"You've got balls, coming here," he said, tapping rapidly on a keyboard. "I don't work with anyone anymore. Especially not people in suits."
Alexander leaned forward. "We're not suits. We're survivors. Like you."
Milo snorted. "Survivors don't walk around with security detail and polished shoes."
"We're not asking for favors," Siena said. "We're offering you a chance to be part of something bigger. Something that matters."
He paused and looked at her.
"You know what Holden does to people who cross him?"
"I've seen it."
"I built that server," Milo admitted quietly. "I encrypted it, mirrored it, even made sure there was no backdoor. No one can touch it without the three-phase key—unless you destroy the entire system physically."
"Then tell us where it is."
"I can't."
Alexander stood up, voice calm but intense. "Can't or won't?"
Milo met his eyes. "Can't. Because it's mobile. It's not in one location. It's in a roving data caravan—old delivery trucks retrofitted with servers. They keep moving. Every 24 hours."
Reeve cursed under his breath.
Siena tried to stay calm. "So what do we do?"
Milo leaned back. "You trace the signal. You find the truck. And you bring it down. But that won't be easy. They'll have eyes everywhere."
"I don't care," Siena said. "Just tell us how to trace it."
Milo looked at her for a long moment. Then, almost reluctantly, he turned back to his console and began typing.
"You're going to need bait."
---
An hour later, they left the shop with a flash drive and a plan.
Milo had given them a script—a custom beacon virus that would ping the mobile server when inserted into any device connected to Holden's cloud system.
Now they just needed to find a way to get the bait inside.
Alexander stared at the drive in his hand.
"We'll need someone on the inside," he muttered. "Someone Holden trusts."
Siena's heart clenched.
She already knew the answer.
And she hated it.
"Jasper."
---
The meeting with Jasper wasn't easy to arrange. The last time they'd seen him, he'd nearly walked out on all of them. But when Alexander sent a one-line message—"We can take Holden down. For real."—Jasper agreed.
They met at a rooftop bar under fake names. The wind was sharp, and the city stretched out like a battlefield below.
Jasper arrived in a dark coat, eyes wary, lips pursed.
"You've got five minutes," he said.
Alexander didn't waste a second.
"We found a way to dismantle Holden's blackmail server."
Jasper's jaw tightened. "You're dreaming."
"No," Siena said. "We're not. But we need someone to plant this." She slid the flash drive across the table.
Jasper didn't touch it. "And what happens when I'm found out? Because I will be."
"You're already on his list," Reeve said. "You just don't know it."
A pause.
Jasper glanced at Siena. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because I trusted you when I had no reason to," she said softly. "Because I want to end this—not just for me. For Dael. For everyone."
Jasper closed his eyes. For a second, he looked like a man drowning.
Then he opened them.
"I'll do it," he said.
---
That night, the team watched from a surveillance van as Jasper entered one of Holden's off-site offices. He wore a standard tech badge and carried a laptop bag. Just another IT guy on a routine check.
The minutes dragged.
Reeve tapped his foot anxiously.
Siena clutched her phone, eyes glued to the monitor.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twelve.
"Come on, Jasper," Alexander muttered.
At thirteen minutes, the screen lit up.
A signal.
Milo's beacon had been triggered.
Reeve sat up straight. "Got it. We're pinging location."
"Where is it?" Siena asked.
He read the map. "Industrial district. Old shipping yard."
Milo's voice crackled over the comms. "The truck's parked there. It's the only stationary device matching the server's encryption pattern. That's our target."
Siena took a breath.
Alexander looked at her.
"You sure you're ready for this?"
She met his gaze, steady.
"I've never been more ready."
---
They arrived at the yard just after midnight. The place was massive—fenced-in, dark, with only a few security lights flickering along the perimeter. The truck sat near a warehouse, engine off, but faint humming coming from the back.
A team of agents moved in first, disabling cameras and cutting through the lock.
Alexander and Siena stayed behind until the all-clear.
Then they entered.
Inside the truck, rows of hard drives blinked like Christmas lights. Cool air hummed from the cooling vents. A tech agent ran diagnostics as Milo coached over the line.
"We have to mirror everything now. It'll take five minutes."
"Do it," Alexander ordered.
Siena stared at the drives.
Each light was a secret. A blackmail file. A ruined life.
And soon, it would all be exposed.
"All files downloaded," the agent confirmed. "We're good to move."
Reeve turned to Alexander. "What do we do with the original?"
Alexander looked at Siena.
She didn't hesitate.
"Burn it."
They rigged it with thermite.
Ten minutes later, the truck exploded in a controlled burst, flames lighting up the night sky.
Holden's insurance policy was gone.
And now, the war was truly beginning.