BREAK THE HANDLER

The Insider's Price

Sasha Kral's safehouse was a converted factory on the industrial east side.

Dante approached through the loading bay, weapon drawn. The building was dark. Silent. But he could feel eyes on him.

A voice echoed from the shadows. "You're late."

Sasha stepped into the dim light. Her arms were crossed. Her expression was unreadable.

"Viktor sent me," Dante said.

"I know. He told me you'd come." She gestured toward a table in the center of the room. "Sit."

Dante didn't move. "I'm not here to make small talk. Aldrich is gone. I need to find him."

"Everyone needs to find him. That's the problem." Sasha walked to the table. "Aldrich didn't just disappear. He was extracted. By a team that doesn't exist on any official record."

Dante's jaw tightened. "The Agency."

"Higher than that. Someone inside the government who's been protecting him for years. Someone who wants the network to survive." She pulled out a folder. "I've been tracking his movements for months. He has three safehouses. Four if you count the island."

"Where is he now?"

Sasha opened the folder. Spread out photographs. Satellite images. Locations.

"He's here." She pointed to a remote compound in the mountains. "A private retreat. Owned by a shell company that traces back to Aldrich's chief of staff."

Dante studied the images. The compound was isolated. Surrounded by forest. One road in and out.

"Security?"

"Heavy. At least twenty men. Cameras. Motion sensors. He's prepared for a siege."

Dante's mind raced. "Then I need a way in."

Sasha smiled. It was cold and sharp. "I have one. But it comes with a price."

"Name it."

"Viktor. He's a liability. He knows too much and he's too loyal to Aldrich. I want him eliminated."

Dante stared at her. "He's your brother."

"He's a threat. And I need him gone before he ruins everything I've built." Her eyes were hard. "You want Aldrich. I want Viktor. That's the deal."

Dante considered it. Viktor had helped him. Given him information. But Viktor was also a mercenary. A killer. He'd sell Dante out the moment it benefited him.

"Fine," Dante said. "Viktor dies. In exchange, I get access to the compound."

Sasha nodded. "You have forty-eight hours. After that, Aldrich moves again."

Dante grabbed the folder. Turned to leave.

"Cross." Sasha's voice stopped him. "One more thing. The mole. The second source. I know who it is."

Dante froze. "Who?"

"Your old partner. The one who trained you. The one who's been with you from the start."

Dante's blood went cold. "Webb is dead."

"Not Webb. The other one. The one you never suspected."

Dante's mind raced. The list was short. Gary was dead. Ana was presumed dead. Naomi was cleared.

Only one person remained.

"Name," he said.

Sasha's smile widened. "You'll figure it out. When the time is right."

Dante's hand moved to his weapon. "Tell me."

"Not yet. You need to see it for yourself. Trust me, Cross. When you do, you'll understand."

Dante stared at her. The arrogance. The confidence.

She was playing games. Holding information hostage.

But he needed her. Needed the access to Aldrich's compound.

He lowered his hand. "Forty-eight hours. Then I'm coming for Viktor."

"You do that." Sasha turned away. "And Cross. Be careful who you trust. The mole is closer than you think."

Dante left the factory. The night was cold. The city was quiet.

He walked through the streets, the folder tucked under his arm.

The mole. The second source. Someone who'd been with him from the start.

Gary was dead. Ana was presumed dead. Webb was dead.

Only one person remained. Someone he'd never suspected. Someone who'd been by his side through everything.

His old mentor. The man who'd taught him everything he knew.

But that man was dead. Had been for years.

Or was he?

Dante stopped. His heart pounded.

He pulled out his phone. Scrolled through his contacts.

One name. One number he'd never deleted.

The man who'd recruited him. The man who'd trained him. The man who'd disappeared years ago.

His first handler. Before Webb.

Dante's thumb hovered over the number.

He'd never called it. Never tried to find out what happened to the man who'd made him.

But now he wondered.

Was it possible? Was the mole someone from his past? Someone he'd thought was dead?

Dante pocketed the phone. His mind was spinning.

He had forty-eight hours to find Viktor. Forty-eight hours to get into Aldrich's compound. Forty-eight hours to end this.

But first, he needed to find the truth.

About the mole.

About his past.

About everything.

He walked faster.

The hunt was just beginning.

---

Would you trust the word of someone who's already betrayed everyone she's ever worked with?