2025-11-03 19:00:17Gabrielle smiled with pride as warm chills cascaded down her shoulders. She couldn't have been prouder of having a vehement warlord as a hero.
The warlord's words gave the Faithfuls more momentum, still pointing their guns at the kidnappers, waiting for a signal from him.The Cartels’ expressions were laced with mixed emotions after Achilles' words crashed through their eardrums. A mix of disorientation and rage tugged on their gestures.The feeling of helplessness clouded them, as it had been excruciatingly difficult to stay one step ahead of the Warlord. Everything changed from the moment they had Brig. Anthony Hector hanged for a crime he didn't commit.At first, Ethan's expression was thrust with uncertainty, but he maintained a serious demeanor to stay grounded. He couldn't afford to have his nephew's vehement words living rent-free in his mind.He gave a complicated scoff and tutted his lips in growing fury, “You walked into my abod
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377: Pressure Lines
By midday, Limassol’s port was locked down under joint authority. News spread fast but was incomplete, with phrases like suspected arms shipment, international investigation, and temporary security measures. Enough truth to alarm the guilty, not enough to calm them.Achilles watched the city shift from the operations room. Traffic patterns changed. Calls spiked, then dropped. Money moved in short, panicked bursts.“They’re bleeding information,” Margaret said: “Not to each other. To escape routes.”“That means hierarchy is cracking,” Achilles replied: “Fear is outrunning loyalty.”Anthony leaned over the table: “The gray jacket disappeared into the old quarter. Narrow streets, high foot traffic. No direct extraction.”“He won’t leave the city yet,” Achilles said: “Leaving now confirms guilt. He’ll try to stabilize first.”Margaret glanced at him: “You’re certain?”“He still believes he can fix this,” Achilles said calmly: “Men like him always do.”A Faithful operative’s voice came thr
376: The Docking Window
Limassol woke slowly, like a port that had learned not to ask questions.The sea was calm, almost polite, reflecting soft morning light as cargo vessels lined up for clearance. Customs officers moved through routine checks, stamping papers, nodding at names they had seen too many times to question. To most of the city, it was another working day. To Achilles, it was the narrowest window of the operation.“The Helios Dawn has entered holding pattern,” Anthony said quietly: “Docking slot confirmed. Berth twelve.”Achilles stood in the operations room, jacket off, sleeves rolled. His eyes stayed on the live feed, but his mind was already several steps ahead. Docking was not an arrival. Docking was exposure.“Cargo manifest?” he asked.Margaret answered without looking up: “Agricultural equipment. Replacement generators. All clean on paper. Too clean.”Achilles nodded: “Because paperwork is written by people who expect not to be watched.”Outside, the Helios Dawn slowed, its engines adjus
375: The Cost Of Moving
Trieste did not sleep. It only pretended to. The port breathed quietly at night, container lights glowing like distant stars, cranes frozen mid-gesture as if waiting for permission to move again. Achilles studied it from above, not physically, but through layers of feeds, customs schedules, maritime insurance timestamps, and shipping anomalies that told a truer story than any camera ever could. “They shifted earlier than predicted,” Anthony said: “Two hours ahead of their own window.” Achilles absorbed the information without reacting: “Pressure does that. It makes people cut corners.” Margaret traced a finger along the digital overlay: “Three vessels flagged for routine departure. Only one has abnormal ballast changes.” “The Helios Dawn,” Achilles said immediately. George glanced at him: “You didn’t even check the—” “I don’t need to,” Achilles interrupted: “The ot
374: Pressure Without Sound
The first rule Achilles followed was silence.Not the absence of noise, but the absence of intention. Nothing that could be read too early. Nothing that would force the enemy to adapt before he understood the full shape of their network.Rotterdam woke under gray skies and routine schedules. Cargo ships eased into port, cranes moved with mechanical precision, and officials sipped coffee, believing the day would be ordinary. That belief was the first weakness Achilles exploited.From a secure room three levels beneath London, he watched Rotterdam through numbers, not images. Insurance bonds. Shipping guarantees. Environmental waivers. Political favors hidden inside legal language. The real port was not steel and water. It was paper.“They insulated themselves well,” Anthony said, scrolling through layered data: “Shell insurers in Zurich, legal cover routed through Luxembourg, risk offset in Singapore.”Achilles studied the pattern: “Too cl
373: Quiet Rooms
London moved the way it always did; busy enough to hide anything, orderly enough to forget it later.Achilles watched it from the back seat as the car slid through traffic, his attention divided between reflections in the glass and the patterns forming in his head. He wasn’t being followed in the traditional sense. No tails. No sloppy surveillance. That absence itself was information.“They’re watching through systems, not bodies,” he said calmly.Anthony nodded, eyes on a secondary phone feeding live data from nearby CCTV access points: “Traffic cameras looped twice behind us. Private feeds. Not Metropolitan.”“Contractors,” Margaret said: “Or a department that doesn’t exist on paper.”Achilles leaned forward slightly: “Which means they expect me to move loudly.”The car turned into a quiet Westminster street and rolled into an underground access bay beneath a nondescript government building. No signage. No guards in uniform. Only biometric locks and silence.Inside, the air was cool
372: The First Thread
The plane lifted off quietly, slicing through dawn clouds as Colombia fell away beneath them.Achilles didn’t sleep. His interference in Colombia came with numerous strings attached, which hadn't been experienced before. For the first time, his pumpkin’s life was at stake multiple times, and rescuing her was always more like a miracle.They knew he loved her more than life itself. They knew the territory well enough, and kidnapping Gabrielle whenever he charged into battle was common. Little wonder, he decided to keep her closer while defeating his enemies. It was a risky decision but leaving behind wasn't any less risky.The thought of Gabrielle almost dying clouded his mind, and for a moment, he gave it serious thought and was genuinely elated that she hadn't been slaughtered in the process.What would he have done? What would have become of General Achilles Hector if such a tragedy had struck?He sat upright, tablet resting on his knee, eyes moving steadily through the recovered fi
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