No Turning Back

I shut the laptop and ran a hand through my hair. I needed a plan. Richter's death had already made headlines, and that meant people would be looking for me.

I pulled out my phone, dialing the only number I could trust.

It rang twice before a voice answered. "Yeah?"

"Logan, I need a favor."

A pause. Then: "Shit. You in trouble again?"

"Big trouble."

Logan sighed. "You got a location?"

"Safehouse on 42nd. Can you get here?"

"Give me an hour."

I hung up and set the phone down. Logan was an ex-cop. The kind that got sick of the system and decided to work outside it. We weren't exactly friends, but we had an understanding—he helped me when I needed it, and I paid him well.

I stood up, pacing. I had an hour before Logan arrived.

An hour before I decided my next move.

Fifty-five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Three short taps, then two more.

I opened it.

Logan stepped inside, glancing around. "This place is worse than your last safehouse," he muttered.

"Didn't invite you over for interior design advice."

He smirked. "Alright, what's the problem?"

I handed him the flash drive. He plugged it into his tablet, scanning the files. His expression darkened.

"Jesus," he muttered. "Leon Mercer? You sure about this?"

I nodded. "Saw it with my own eyes."

Logan let out a low whistle. "You know what this means, right?"

"Yeah. It means I'm screwed."

He exhaled, rubbing his face. "Look, man. Leon's untouchable. You go after him, you better be ready to burn every bridge you've got left. Because once you start this, there's no going back."

"I don't have a choice."

Logan studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I'll help. But if we're doing this, we do it smart."

I gestured for him to continue.

"First thing's first—we need to figure out who else is in Leon's pocket. Cops, judges, politicians. We can't move until we know who we can trust."

I frowned. "That'll take time."

"Then we better start now."

I sighed. Logan was right. Rushing in would get me killed.

I had to be patient.

I had to be ruthless.

Because Leon Mercer was about to learn a lesson he should've taught me years ago.

Never betray a man with nothing to lose.

---

The safehouse smelled like stale cigarettes and bad decisions. Logan sat across from me, scrolling through the files on his tablet, his brows furrowed.

"This isn't just an operation, man," he muttered. "Leon owns everything. Look at this—judges, federal agents, hell, even a couple of senators. If we go after him, we're going after the whole damn system."

I already knew that. But hearing it out loud made it feel more real.

Logan looked up. "So what's the play?"

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. The rational part of me screamed to walk away. To disappear. But I wasn't wired like that. I never had been.

Leon made one mistake.

He left me alive.

"I need leverage," I said. "Something that puts him on the defensive. Something he can't ignore."

Logan smirked. "You planning to poke the bear?"

"I'm planning to skin it."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, psycho. I might have something."

He turned the tablet around. A series of transactions appeared on the screen, all traced back to an offshore account. The numbers were staggering—millions, maybe billions.

"This is Leon's war chest," Logan explained. "If we can freeze these accounts, we cripple him."

I nodded. "And how do we do that?"

Logan sighed. "That's the part that sucks. We need access to his personal servers."

I frowned. "Let me guess. They're not exactly in a coffee shop Wi-Fi network."

"Not even close," Logan said. "They're inside one of his private facilities. High security. No way in without a plan."

I ran a hand through my hair. This was bigger than I thought.

But big didn't scare me.

Big just meant I had to hit harder.

We spent the next two hours going over every detail. Logan pulled up blueprints, security logs, and staff rotations. The facility was a fortress—armed guards, cameras, biometric scanners.

Breaking in would be suicide.

Unless we did it right.

"Best entry point is here," Logan said, tapping the screen. "Service tunnel. Only used for maintenance, minimal security."

"And once we're inside?"

"We get to the server room. I'll handle the data. You just make sure no one puts a bullet in my head."

I smirked. "Sounds fair."

Logan shut the tablet. "One more thing. Once we do this, Leon will know it's you."

"I'm counting on it."

He chuckled. "You're either the bravest guy I know or the dumbest."

I stood up, grabbing my gear. "Probably both."

We reached the facility just after midnight. The service tunnel was exactly as Logan described—unmonitored, quiet.

Too quiet.

I kept my gun drawn as we moved, my senses sharp. If this was a trap, we wouldn't get a second chance.

Logan reached the access panel and started typing. "Give me a sec."

Seconds stretched. I kept my eyes on the corridor ahead, my heartbeat steady.

Then—

"Got it," Logan whispered. The door slid open.

We slipped inside.

The server room was three floors up. We moved quickly, avoiding security patrols, sticking to the shadows. Everything was going smooth.

Too smooth.

We reached the final hallway. The server room was just ahead.

That's when I heard the click.

"Don't move."

The voice was calm, controlled.

I turned my head slightly. Three men. Tactical gear. Suppressors on their pistols.

They had been waiting for us.

Logan muttered under his breath. "Shit."

The leader stepped forward, smirking. "Leon says hello."

I smiled.

Then I moved.

The first shot missed my head by inches.

I lunged forward, grabbing the nearest guard's wrist and twisting. His suppressed shot went into the wall. My elbow smashed into his jaw.

Logan dove for cover, firing his pistol. The hallway exploded with suppressed gunfire.

I ripped the gun from the first guard's hand and turned it on the second. Two shots to the chest. He went down.

The third guy fired—too slow.

I grabbed his arm, twisting hard enough to hear the snap. He screamed. I silenced him with a bullet.

Then everything went still.

Logan exhaled. "Jesus."

I turned to him. "We need to move."

He nodded, running toward the server room.

I followed, stepping over bodies.

Leon had sent his men.

He should've sent more.

Inside the server room, Logan worked fast. I stood by the door, keeping watch.

"You got two minutes," I said.

"Give me one."

I heard footsteps. More guards.

I raised my gun.

The first man turned the corner. I shot him before he could react.

The second fired blindly. I ducked behind a server rack, returning fire. He dropped.

Logan cursed. "Almost there!"

I took a deep breath.

Then the alarms went off.

Red lights flooded the room.

I turned to Logan. "Now or never."

He hit one final key. "Done!"

I grabbed him and ran.

We burst out of the facility just as more guards swarmed in.

Bullets ripped past us.

We hit the tunnel, sprinting into the night.

Behind us, sirens blared.

We didn't stop running.

Not until we were free.

Not until we had won.

But as I caught my breath, one thought stayed in my mind.

Leon would come for me.

And when he did, I'd be ready.