BREAK THE HANDLER

The Traitor's Game

The Harbor Hotel rose twenty stories above the waterfront. Glass and steel. Cold and indifferent.

Dante watched it from a coffee shop across the street. He'd been sitting there for two hours, nursing a cold cup and studying the entrance.

Suite 1400. Aldrich's invitation. Webb's trap.

Both knew he'd come. Both were waiting.

His phone buzzed. A text from Naomi.

"Safe. Drive secured. Meet when you can."

He replied with a single word: "Stay."

Then he turned his attention back to the hotel.

The entrance was active. Businessmen. Tourists. Staff. But also shadows. Two men in suits by the revolving door. Another near the valet stand. Webb's people, pretending to be guests.

Dante counted four visible. There would be more inside. At least eight. Maybe ten.

Aldrich was on the fourteenth floor. Webb would be there too. Waiting.

The direct approach was suicide.

Dante needed another way in.

He crossed the street, keeping his head down. Entered the hotel through a side entrance meant for staff. A service corridor. Empty.

He moved to the stairwell. Climbed to the tenth floor. Exited into a hallway.

The hotel was quiet. Thick carpet swallowed his footsteps.

He found a housekeeping cart. Stole a uniform. Changed quickly in an empty room.

Then he moved to the service elevator. Rode to the fourteenth floor.

The doors opened onto a narrow hallway. One suite at the end. 1400.

Two guards stood outside. Armed. Alert.

Dante pushed the housekeeping cart forward. Kept his head down. "Room service."

The guards tensed. "We didn't order anything."

"It's for the senator. Complimentary."

The guards exchanged a look. One stepped forward. "Let me see your ID."

Dante reached into his pocket. Pulled out a silenced pistol instead.

Two shots. Both guards dropped.

He stepped over the bodies and pushed the door open.

Suite 1400 was vast. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the port. A sitting area with leather furniture. A bar stocked with expensive whiskey.

Senator Aldrich sat in an armchair. He was reading a newspaper, legs crossed, as if he'd been expecting company.

"Cross," he said without looking up. "I was wondering when you'd arrive."

Dante moved into the room, weapon raised. "Where's Webb?"

"He's not here. I wanted to speak with you privately."

"You wanted to kill me privately."

Aldrich folded the newspaper. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I could have twenty men in this room right now. But I don't."

"You brought me here to talk."

"To negotiate." Aldrich stood. "You have something I want. The flash drive. The evidence. And I have something you want."

Dante's finger tightened on the trigger. "You have nothing I want."

"Don't I?" Aldrich walked to the window. "I have your medical records. Your heart condition. I also have access to a surgeon who can fix it. You won't die in two years. You'll live another twenty."

Dante's pulse quickened. "You're lying."

"I'm a politician. Lying is what I do." Aldrich turned. "But I'm not lying about this. I can save your life, Cross. In exchange for the drive."

The offer hung in the air. Twenty more years. A new heart. A new life.

All he had to do was betray Naomi. Betray Gary's memory.

"Your network killed innocent people," Dante said. "Gary. Ana. Danny. They were collateral damage to you. Meat for the grinder."

Aldrich shrugged. "Sacrifices are necessary. You of all people should understand that. How many have you killed for the greater good?"

Dante didn't answer.

"I'm offering you a way out. Not just survival. A future. A real future. No more hiding. No more running."

"And the prisoners?"

"The prisoners are already dead. Viktor moved them an hour ago. They're being taken to a black site as we speak. You can't save them."

Dante felt the words hit like a physical blow. The prisoners. The ones he'd tried to free. They were gone. He'd failed them.

"Your offer is meaningless," he said. "The prisoners are gone. The evidence is the only thing that matters."

"Then make your choice. Walk away with your life. Or die for a cause that's already lost."

Dante stared at the senator. The man's arrogance was absolute. He believed he'd won.

Maybe he had.

But Dante still had the flash drive. Naomi still had it. And as long as that evidence existed, Aldrich was vulnerable.

"I'll take your deal," Dante said.

Aldrich smiled. "Smart man."

"On one condition. The surgeon. I want proof he exists. Proof he can do the operation."

Aldrich nodded. "I'll arrange a meeting. Tomorrow."

Dante lowered his weapon. "Fine."

Aldrich walked to the bar. "Drink?"

"No."

Aldrich poured himself a whiskey. "You know, Cross, I always admired you. Webb told me about your work. Your efficiency. Your loyalty. It's a shame we had to end up on opposite sides."

"I wasn't aware there were sides."

Aldrich laughed. "There's only one side. Mine. The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be."

Dante watched the senator drink. His mind was already working.

Aldrich was too confident. Too sure of his victory. He'd let his guard down.

One shot. The senator dies. The network crumbles.

But the prisoners were still alive somewhere. And only Aldrich knew where.

Killing him now meant losing the location.

"Tomorrow," Dante said. "I'll be in touch."

He turned to leave.

Aldrich's voice stopped him. "Cross. The guards outside. You killed two of my men."

"They were in my way."

Aldrich nodded. "I'll make sure they're compensated. Loyalty is expensive, after all. But it's also the most valuable commodity."

Dante walked to the door. His hand touched the handle.

He should kill the senator. End this now.

But he needed more information. The prisoners. The black site. The network's full structure.

He left the room.

In the hallway, he pulled out his phone. Sent a message to Naomi.

"Prisoners moved. Black site. Aldrich knows where. I'm playing along."

Her reply came fast. "Trap."

"I know."

He entered the elevator. Watched the doors close.

Aldrich thought he'd won. Thought Dante was bought.

He'd learn the truth soon enough.

The elevator descended.

Dante checked his weapon. Full magazine. One in the chamber.

The war was just beginning.

---

Is it worth making a deal with your enemy to get closer to the truth?