Chapter Fifteen: Ashes and Teeth

By dawn, the Ministry of Justice in Kinshasa was under lockdown. Officially, it was a security exercise. In reality, a silent purge had begun. Dozens of clerks, ministers, and mid-level bureaucrats were detained, some never to be seen again. Michael didn't need guns in the streets yet. He needed confusion. Fear. Silence that screamed.

The Kestrels had gone underground. Falcon now operated out of a wine cellar beneath a shuttered embassy. Mireille moved between safehouses with the grace of a ghost. Every asset, every whisper, every drop of pressure was now building toward a single day: the day the government would eat itself alive.

But Serena Ward was in Kinshasa.

Michael's past. The only woman who had ever gotten under his skin and nearly dismantled his ambition. Serena had once believed in saving the world. Now she worked for the same system Michael sought to manipulate.

He spotted her before she knew he was there. An intercepted drone feed. Serena was walking near the riverfront, disguised as a UN environmental analyst, but Michael saw the truth in her stride—military trained, MI6 posture, every movement rehearsed. She wasn't here to spy. She was here to kill.

He stared at the screen, remembering the warmth of her skin, the way her fingers traced maps of ambition on his chest. Now she was another player. Another knife.

He sent Falcon a single message:

> "If she finds me before the coronation, terminate."

Meanwhile, General Kayembe had moved forces subtly but decisively. Fuel depots in Lubumbashi and Mbandaka were now under military control. Key bridges were monitored. All it would take was one final crisis—a push, a strike, a betrayal.

That betrayal came faster than expected.

An audio leak hit Congolese social media like wildfire. In it, N'Shonda was heard offering backdoor mining rights to a Russian oligarch in exchange for "strategic support against Nigerian interference."

Michael had been holding that audio for months. Now was the time.

Kinshasa exploded. Protesters stormed the governor's compound. The army hesitated.

Then the 13th Armored Division declared loyalty to Kayembe.

A coup was no longer coming. It had begun.

Michael stood before a digital map, red icons blooming across the screen like poppies in spring.

Mireille entered. "We have a situation. Serena's crossed into Gombe. She's looking for you. Personally."

Michael smiled. "Let her. She needs closure. And I want her to see what I've built."

In the palace, N'Shonda was silent. He knew. Helicopters warmed on the tarmac, but there was no escape. Not anymore.

At 3:14 PM, the signal was sent. All units. Execute Phase Zakar.

The Congo wept. And then, it changed.