BREAK THE HANDLER

The First Move

The port stretched across two miles of industrial waterfront. Cranes loomed like skeletons against the grey sky. Shipping containers stacked in endless rows.

Dante found a position on a rooftop two blocks away. He'd been watching for three hours.

The command post was a converted office trailer near the main dock. Sasha Kral ran operations from inside. Viktor's men patrolled the perimeter. Armed. Professional.

Dante counted twelve guards. Two on the roof. Three at the gate. The rest circulated in pairs.

Too many for a direct assault.

He needed information. A way inside. Someone who could get him close.

His phone buzzed.

Unknown number. The same one from before.

He answered but said nothing.

"Dante." Webb's voice. Calm. Familiar. "I know you're watching the port."

Dante stayed silent.

"I also know you killed two of my men at the Silo. And you let one live. Sent a message."

"You sent one first," Dante said. "Gary didn't deserve that."

"Gary was a liability. He found things he shouldn't have. You were always his weakness."

Dante's grip on the phone tightened. "What did he find?"

There was a pause. Then Webb laughed. Low and cold.

"The truth. About the network. About the prisoners. About you, Dante. Every job you ever did for me was a setup. You were eliminating my rivals. My competition. You thought you were cleaning up crime, but you were just doing my dirty work."

Dante's jaw tightened. "Why tell me now?"

"Because I want you to understand. You have no allies. No friends. Everyone you trusted was either paid or threatened. Naomi. Gary. Even your contacts at the Agency."

"Naomi set me up."

"Naomi works for me. Has for eighteen months. She fed me every move you made. Every safehouse. Every plan."

Dante felt the words hit like bullets. Naomi. The woman he'd saved in Prague. The one person he thought owed him loyalty.

She was Webb's plant all along.

"You're a dead man walking," Webb continued. "But I'm offering you a way out. Walk away. Leave the country. Never come back. In exchange, I'll call off the hunt."

"And the prisoners?"

"Not your concern."

Dante stared at the command post. Sasha's silhouette moved behind the window.

"If I walk, you kill them anyway."

"I don't kill them. I transfer them. What happens after isn't my problem."

Dante understood. Webb wasn't protecting the prisoners. He was delivering them to the network. To be silenced.

"I won't walk," Dante said.

"I thought you'd say that." Webb's voice hardened. "So let me be clear. I know about your heart condition. The valve. The surgery you never had. You have maybe two years left, and that's if you don't push yourself."

Dante's chest tightened. He'd never told Webb about the condition. Never mentioned it to anyone.

"How do you know?"

"I know everything, Dante. I've been conditioning you for years. Making you loyal. Making you predictable. You were never my cleaner. You were my experiment."

The word hung in the air. Experiment.

"Say goodbye to your old life," Webb said. "Because I'm coming for you. And when I find you, I won't offer another deal."

The line went dead.

Dante lowered the phone. His hand shook slightly.

Eighteen months. Naomi had been feeding Webb intel for eighteen months. Every job. Every safehouse. Every person he trusted.

Gary was dead because of her. Ana and Danny were dead because of her.

And Webb knew about his heart. The ticking clock inside his chest.

Dante closed his eyes.

He could walk. Leave. Disappear into a new identity. Live out his last years in silence.

But Gary's face flashed in his mind. The blood. The staged position. The note in his hand.

SILO.

Gary found something. Something important enough to die for.

Dante opened his eyes.

He wasn't walking.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to the unknown number.

"I want to meet Sasha. Alone. Tell her I have information about the prisoners."

He waited.

Three minutes later, the reply came.

"Midnight. The Crane. Come unarmed."

Dante pocketed the phone.

He had twelve hours to prepare.

But as he turned to leave the rooftop, he froze.

A figure stood on the building across the street. Watching him through binoculars.

Dante's hand went to his weapon.

The figure lowered the binoculars. A woman.

Sasha Kral.

She smiled. Then she disappeared behind the ledge.

Dante's blood went cold.

She knew he was here. Knew where he was watching from.

Webb told her.

The trap was already set.

Dante descended the fire escape. His mind raced.

He was walking into a meeting with the one person who might have answers. But she was also Webb's ally. Viktor's sister. The woman who wanted the prisoners dead.

Every direction led to danger.

But he was out of choices.

Midnight. The Crane. He'd be there.

Unarmed.

Or so she thought.

---

Is revenge worth dying for?