Drake's screams echoed through the abandoned warehouse, both legs shattered at the knees, as Catherine's men dragged him across concrete and zip-tied him to a steel chair. Blood pooled beneath him, dark and spreading. His Navy SEAL training had prepared him for combat injuries, but not this—not deliberate crippling followed by immediate interrogation.Catherine stood before him, completely calm, a folder of documents in one hand and a pistol in the other. "Arena security protocols. I want every detail. Guard positions, shift changes, blind spots, emergency responses. Now."Drake's face twisted with pain and defiance. "Go to hell."She shot him in the shoulder without hesitation. The bullet punched through muscle and bone, spinning him in the chair. Drake's scream was primal."Wrong answer."The pain overwhelmed him. Drake's head lolled forward, consciousness slipping away. Dr. Rodriguez appeared from the shadows with a medical kit, administered a stimulant injection directly into his

The safe house war room fell silent as Morrison's call came through at midnight. Grayson put it on speaker, and everyone gathered around—Ava, Harding, Catherine, Matteo, Natasha, James. The agent's voice was tight with urgency."Thomas Castellano is alive. Vanessa Reed positively identified him. She saw him six months ago at a Castellano family meeting."Grayson's hand tightened on the phone. "Impossible. I put three bullets in him myself. Center mass. Watched him bleed out on that Singapore hotel floor. Confirmed the kill personally.""Vanessa's certain. Said he's older, has more scars, but it's definitely him. She recognized his voice, his mannerisms, everything."James was already pulling up classified files on his laptop, scanning through the Singapore operation reports. "The body identified as Castellano five years ago—DNA matched against family records. Fingerprints confirmed. How could someone fake that level of verification?"Harding realized it first, his face going pale. "He

Castellano made a call on his encrypted phone, speaking into it with casual authority. "Release the hostages. The General's complying with our arrangement."On the tablet screen, the warehouse guards moved to comply. They cut the zip-ties binding Sarah and Emma's wrists. Both hostages stood shakily, Sarah putting a protective arm around Emma. An armed man gestured toward an exit door where a black SUV waited, engine running.But Ava was watching the screen with narrowed eyes, something nagging at her perception. Emma walked differently—her gait was off, too measured, too adult. And something else was wrong."Wait." Ava stepped closer to the tablet. "Emma never goes anywhere without Mr. Fluffy. Where is he?"Sarah on screen looked confused for a moment, touched her ear like she was receiving instructions through a hidden earpiece. "He's... at the shelter? She left him there?"Ava's blood ran cold. "That's impossible. Emma lost Mr. Fluffy in the museum attack. It burned in the construct

The Ironworks Arena lived up to its name—a circular amphitheater built from steel and concrete where Marcus's grandfather had established the Wolfe family empire eighty years ago. At noon precisely, ten thousand spectators filed through security checkpoints. Triad members in expensive suits sat alongside crime family representatives from a dozen organizations. Ordinary civilians who'd purchased tickets online thinking this was a legitimate mixed martial arts event filled the upper sections, completely unaware of what they were actually witnessing.Security was military-grade. Marcus's men were positioned every twenty feet—professional operators scanning crowds, watching for threats. Metal detectors at every entrance, bomb-sniffing dogs patrolling the concourse, surveillance cameras covering every angle. Isabella had been right—this lockdown was comprehensive.Ava arrived through the fighter's entrance wearing full traditional Triad combat attire—black silk pants, fitted top with Marga

Thirty seconds. The digital countdown glowed red on every screen in the Ironworks Arena, each passing second bringing ten thousand people closer to nuclear annihilation. Dr. Rodriguez worked with surgeon's precision, her hands steady despite the chaos surrounding her, trying to remove Marcus's jade ring while keeping him in controlled cardiac arrest. The sedative had stopped his heart, but his body was still fighting—muscle spasms, involuntary reflexes, blood pressure spiking and crashing."His vitals are unstable!" Elena shouted over the gunfire still echoing through the arena. "I can keep him down for maybe ninety more seconds before brain damage becomes irreversible!"Above them in the VIP box, Castellano held the nuclear detonator like a trophy, his face illuminated by its display. "Twenty-five seconds, General! Nothing you can do stops this! No way to disarm it remotely, no way to reach me through bulletproof glass and thirty bodyguards! We all die together!"Grayson's tactical m