CHAPTER TWENTY

The Atlantic wind swept hard across Elmina's dockyards, tossing salt and damp into every crevice of the waiting shadows. It was just after 1:00 a.m., and the B-Team had split into their respective positions around the meeting point Dora had revealed. The moon hung low, hazy and swollen like it was holding its breath.

Brian crouched beside a stack of shipping containers, night-vision goggles pressed to his face. Beside him, Kojo adjusted the small drone controller, ready to launch their aerial eye. From the opposite side of the docks, Adjeley whispered into the radio.

"Perimeter's quiet. No sign of guards yet."

Brian responded, "Wait for the signal. If we move too early, we spook them."

They had two hours to get everything right. Minister Owusu was expected to arrive with two other high-value targets — but whether P or The Widow would make an appearance was uncertain. That unpredictability gnawed at Brian.

In a van disguised as a customs vehicle parked a block away, Akosua monitored comms and drone feeds. Alicia sat silently beside her, her hands clasped tight in her lap.

"You don't have to be here," Akosua said, eyes never leaving the monitors.

"I do," Alicia whispered. "I brought us here. I need to see how it ends."

Akosua glanced sideways at her. "Then brace yourself. These endings are rarely clean."

Meanwhile, Selorm, positioned as a dockworker with a forged ID, moved casually among the crates. His job was to plant listening devices and track the positions of arriving personnel. His earpiece buzzed.

"Van incoming. Dark-tinted Prado. No escort."

Brian focused his binoculars. The SUV rolled to a smooth halt near a rotting warehouse at the far end of the dock. The back door opened. Minister Owusu stepped out, flanked by two bulky men in black. He looked thinner, angrier. Paranoia clung to him like perfume.

"That's our guy," Brian muttered. "Let him settle."

They watched as a second vehicle — a white Hilux — pulled in behind the Prado. Out stepped a tall, veiled woman dressed in a flowing black abaya, her heels clicking sharply on the concrete. Her guards moved with the precision of elite operators.

Adjeley's breath hitched in her mic. "That her?"

Brian nodded slowly. "The Widow."

No introductions were exchanged on the docks. The two parties walked toward the warehouse with silent coordination, disappearing behind rusted metal doors.

Kojo adjusted the drone altitude. "We've got audio."

Inside, their hidden mics picked up fragments.

Owusu: "This is not what we agreed. You said half a mil, not two."

The Widow: "Your exposure raised the price. This isn't a market. It's a war."

Owusu: "My people—"

The Widow: "Are dead. Or hunted. You're running out of both time and loyalty."

Brian clenched his jaw. "She's bleeding him dry."

Alicia leaned closer to the monitor, her expression unreadable.

Suddenly, the feed crackled. A spike in static.

"Jam?" Kojo said.

Adjeley swore under her breath. "They've got signal jammers. We've got maybe a minute before we lose all contact."

Brian tapped the radio. "All units. Prep for breach. We move on my mark."

They couldn't risk losing The Widow.

Inside the warehouse, the conversation had turned hostile.

Owusu: "You're not in charge here."

The Widow: "Wrong. I am what rises when the weak fall."

She raised her hand. One of her guards stepped forward and shoved Owusu to the ground. A briefcase slid toward her feet — her payment. She opened it, inspected the bills, then closed it without a word.

Just then, Selorm's voice cracked through the radio. "Heat signatures multiplying. Backup incoming."

Kojo's eyes widened. "We're about to be boxed in."

Brian gave the signal. "Move. Now."

The team launched into motion.

Adjeley and Selorm hit the north entrance. Kojo moved from the sea-facing side. Brian, flanked by two backup officers, hit the main gate with a breaching charge.

BOOM.

The door burst inward in a fireball of splinters.

Inside, chaos exploded. The Widow's guards drew weapons. Shots rang out, echoing across the metal walls. Owusu tried to run but was tackled by Selorm. Alicia's voice over comms screamed for a halt — but there was no halting this.

Brian dropped two guards with precise shots, rolling behind a forklift. He yelled, "Eyes on the Widow!"

But she was already gone.

A smoke canister had hit the floor. In the confusion, she'd slipped through a back exit. Kojo chased but found only footprints fading into the rain.

They secured Owusu, unconscious and bleeding. Five guards lay dead. Two were captured. The briefcase was gone.

Back in the safehouse, Owusu was cuffed to a gurney in the infirmary.

Brian stared at him. "You were a minister. How did you end up here?"

Owusu, groggy, gave a sick smile. "Ghana's clean water doesn't flow from taps. It comes in barrels… from shadows."

"You sold children," Brian said, disgust thick in his throat.

Owusu shrugged. "And the world watched. Every aid organization. Every embassy. They all suspected. No one stopped it."

Brian leaned in. "But we are."

Owusu looked at him through swollen eyes. "Then you'd better move fast. She'll burn Accra to ash before she lets you win."

Later that night, Alicia stood on the roof alone. Rain dripped from the eaves as she looked out over the quiet city. Brian joined her.

"She got away," Alicia said quietly.

"She won't stay gone."

Alicia turned to him. "Who is she, Brian? What kind of woman becomes that?"

Brian exhaled. "The kind who never forgot the fire. Who decided to become it."

In a hidden location, deep in the forest belt, The Widow removed her veil. Her face, sharp and elegant, was streaked with sweat. A man approached — tall, dark-eyed, cautious.

"She escaped?" he asked.

She nodded. "But the war begins now."

He handed her a tablet.

"Phase Four, ma'am?"

She smiled.

"No. Phase Zero. Wipe the board."

Back in the city, Brian stared at a map of Ghana now littered with red pins. Each one marked a location linked to the cartel's vast enterprise.

Adjeley entered with a folder. "Interpol confirmed. The Widow has been sighted in Cameroon, Nigeria, Senegal. Always just out of reach. But always circling."

Brian nodded. "Then let's corner her. One pin at a time."

Because now, the hunt wasn't just about drugs. Or children. Or even revenge.

It was about breaking the empire built on silence.

And they would not be silent any longer.