Pearl Harbor City was humid. The kind of wet heat that soaked through clothes and never let go. Alex arrived with his team at midnight. They took separate vehicles from the airport. Different routes. Standard counter-surveillance. Met at a safehouse two miles from the docks. Small apartment. Furnished. Secure. Marcus checked every room. Swept for bugs. "Clean." The team assembled in the living room. Alex stood at the window. Watching the city lights. "Before we start, you all need to know something. The cartels know we're coming." Everyone tensed. "How?" James asked. "Someone leaked our plans. Someone in Chen Global." "The mole from the phone call," Rachel said. "Yes." "Do you know who?" "Not yet. But I have people investigating." Marcus stepped forward. "Does this change the mission?" "No. It makes it harder. But not impossible." "They'll be watching for us." "Then we don't give them what they're watching for." Alex turned from the window. "Original plan was

They moved to Javier's private office below deck. Soundproof. Secure. No cameras. Just the four of them. Javier poured whiskey. His hands were steady now. "Tell me everything. The whole plan." Alex sat across from him. "Miguel controls Port A. Largest operation. Most guards. He's the anchor. Remove him, the entire structure collapses." "Carlos won't just roll over." "No. But Carlos is pragmatic. He'll see which way the wind is blowing." "And if he doesn't?" "Then he goes down too. But I'd prefer to avoid that. Less bloodshed. Cleaner transition." Javier nodded slowly. "What do you need from me?" "Access. Schedules. Security codes. Guard rotations. Everything about Port C." "You want to take over my port?" "I want to clean it. Remove the trafficking. Keep the legitimate operations. Make it profitable legally." "The trafficking is the profit." "No. The trafficking is easy money. Real profit comes from legitimate shipping. Logistics. Global trade. Chen

The FBI moved at 5:47 AM. Thirteen minutes early. Three teams. Three ports. Simultaneous entry. Alex watched from a distance with his team. Parked on a hill overlooking Port B. Binoculars. Radio scanner. Laptop showing live feeds. Rachel had hacked into FBI tactical frequencies. "Alpha team breaching Port A. Resistance minimal. Most guards fled after Miguel's death." "Bravo team at Port C. No resistance. Workers cooperating." "Charlie team at Port B. Heavy resistance. Carlos's men are fighting back." Gunfire echoed across the water. Alex could see muzzle flashes even from a mile away. "How many agents at Port B?" Marcus asked. "Thirty. Plus local SWAT for backup." "Carlos