At the women's detention wing, the alarm screamed through the facility. Red emergency lights bathed the corridors in blood-colored shadows.Lucia Montoya jerked awake in her cell, heart racing with each second. Down the hall, she heard gunfire, the metallic clang of breaching equipment.“What's happening?” Michelle Brenford called from the adjacent cell.“Lockdown!” A guard yelled, running past. “Stay in your cells!”More gunfire closer now, the guards were returning fire at something; someone, trying to break in.Victoria Stones pressed herself against the back wall of her cell, trembling. The Archelords. They'd come for her again. Just like they'd threatened.But why? To free her? To kill her?An explosion hit the southwest block of the building. The lights flickered while emergency power kicked in.Through the chaos, Lucia heard voices; accented, commanding, and certainly not British.“West corridor

[Execution Facility, London]The gallows stood in the center of the courtyard, three nooses hanging motionless in the morning with loud silence.Achilles stood with the Faithfuls near the observation area. They'd delayed the bank operation until after this, some things couldn't be postponed.The Prime Minister arrived with Mr. Montoya. Both men looked sharp and focused, behind them came families of the Cartel's victims. People who needed to see this chapter close.Brigadier Stones stood alone near the back, his ex-stepmother would die today. He'd come to witness it, though his face showed no emotion.The first prisoner was brought out, Lucia Montoya. She could barely walk, guards half-carried her to the platform. Her eyes were red from crying, and her face was pale and heavy.The executioner, a man whose face remained covered, placed the noose around her neck. Read the charges and asked if she had final words.Lucia look

“But here's the thing; I'm not hiding anymore. I want you to come find me. I want you to try to stop what's coming. Because when you fail, when you watch everything collapse around you, I want you to know that your father caused all of this. His choice twenty years ago set this in motion.”Ethan pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolded it.; held it up to the camera: Coordinates, location markers, and a map.“This is where I'll be in three days. Liverpool Industrial District, Warehouse 7. Come alone, or come with your army. It doesn't matter.” His smile widened. “Because by then, the real attack will already be underway, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.”The video cut to black for a moment. Then Ethan appeared again, closer this time.“Oh, and Achilles? One more thing. Your father's last words, did they ever tell you what he said before they hanged him?"Achilles' hands clenched.“He said, 'Tell my son I'm sorry. Tell him I

“You'll what? Hunt me down? You're already trying to do that. Threaten me? I'm a dead man walking anyway. The only question is how many people I take with me before I go.”Achilles forced himself to calm down: “What do you want, Ethan? Really want? Because this crusade against our family isn't bringing you peace. You're just cutting yourself deeper.”“Peace?” Ethan chuckled. “I don't want peace. I want justice, I want the world to know that Anthony Hector was a coward who abandoned his brother. That the great Brigadier was really just a man who made a terrible choice and let everyone else pay for it.”“Haha, old man, killing innocent people accomplishes that?”“It gets your attention. Makes you listen and care.” Ethan's voice went cold. ”You're going to watch everything fall apart, Achilles. And when it does, you'll finally understand what I felt that night. The abandonment and your father's scornful betrayal.”“I already know what abando

“Because Ethan wants something from them, information, or…” Achilles' eyes widened. “He's going to execute them publicly. Make examples, show everyone what happens when you help the government.”Speaking of the devil, Ethan called him:“Hello, nephew. I see you found my work. Disappointing, isn't it? Six officers died in their prime, such a waste.”“Where are the witnesses?”“Safe, well for now. They're going to help me with a demonstration.”“Let them go, they're civilians. They did their civic duty, they don't deserve—”“Don't deserve what? Justice? Consequences?” Ethan's voice was cold. “They helped convict people I needed, now they'll help me send a message.”“What message?”“That's for tomorrow. I'm sending you an address, be there at noon. Come alone, and maybe, I'll let one of them live.”“Ethan—”The line went dead, and a text arrived seconds later. An address in East London; an abandon