BREAK THE HANDLER

The Unseen Enemy

Dante stood at the edge of the city, watching the sun rise over the mountains.

Naomi found him there. Her footsteps were quiet on the gravel. "You've been gone all night."

"Couldn't sleep."

She stood beside him. "What's bothering you?"

"The mole. The second source. Sasha said it was someone from my past. Someone who's been with me from the start."

Naomi was silent for a moment. "Do you have any idea who?"

Dante shook his head. "I thought it was Webb. But he's dead. I thought it was Gary. But he's dead too."

"Maybe Sasha was lying. Maybe there is no second source."

"She wasn't lying." Dante turned to her. "I can feel it. Someone is still watching. Still feeding information to Aldrich."

Naomi's expression tightened. "Then we need to find them. Before they expose us again."

"How? Everyone I trust is either dead or compromised."

"Not everyone." Naomi met his eyes. "You still trust me."

Dante stared at her. The woman who'd sold him out. The woman who'd come back.

"I want to," he said. "But trust is expensive. And I'm running out of currency."

Naomi nodded slowly. "Then let me prove it. Give me something to do. Something that shows you believe in me."

Dante considered it. Then he pulled out his phone and sent her a message. "There's a safehouse on 47th. It's a backup. Only Gary knew about it. I need you to go there. Check for anything. Files. Drives. Anything that could be useful."

Naomi studied the message. "And if I find something?"

"Contact me. No one else."

She nodded. "I'll go now."

She turned and walked away. Dante watched her go. He didn't know if he trusted her. But he needed to find out, and the only way to do that was to give her a chance.

---

The day passed slowly. Dante moved through the city, staying in the shadows. He checked his phone constantly. No messages from Naomi.

The silence was deafening.

At dusk, he returned to the motel. The room was dark. Quiet.

He sat on the bed and pulled out Gary's folder. The evidence. The network. The names.

He studied the photographs. The documents. The connections.

Aldrich was at the center. But there were others. Names he didn't recognize. Organizations he'd never heard of.

The network was larger than he'd imagined. Deeper. More dangerous.

His phone buzzed.

Naomi. "I found something. Come to the safehouse. Alone."

Dante grabbed his weapon and left.

The safehouse was in a rundown building on 47th. The door was unlocked.

He entered. The room was empty.

Naomi was gone.

But something was on the table. A folder. Open.

Dante crossed to it. Inside were photographs. His own face. His movements. His contacts.

Someone had been tracking him. For months. Years.

And at the bottom of the folder was a note. Written in Gary's handwriting.

"Watch your back. The enemy is closer than you think."

Dante stared at the words. His blood ran cold.

Gary had known. He'd known about the traitor. Known about the second source.

But he'd died before he could reveal the truth.

Dante pulled out his phone and sent a message to Naomi. "Where are you?"

No reply.

He tried again. "Naomi. Answer me."

Still nothing.

His pulse quickened. Something was wrong.

He searched the safehouse. Found a back room. The door was locked.

He kicked it open.

Naomi was inside. Tied to a chair. Her mouth was taped. Her face was bruised.

Dante crossed to her and removed the tape.

"Webb's men," she said. "They found me. They're waiting outside."

Dante's hand went to his weapon. "How many?"

"At least six. Maybe more."

He moved to the window and peered through the blinds.

Three SUVs. Armed men. Surrounding the building.

They were trapped.

"Stay here," Dante said. "I'll draw them off."

"Dante—"

"Stay."

He moved to the back door. Opened it. Stepped outside.

The men spotted him immediately. Weapons raised.

Dante fired first. Dropped two men.

The rest scattered. Returned fire.

He dove behind a dumpster. Rolled. Came up firing.

Another man dropped. The others retreated.

Dante moved fast. Found cover. Reloaded.

The SUVs were still there. More men were emerging.

He couldn't hold them off forever.

He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Sasha. "Safehouse on 47th. Webb's men. I need backup."

The reply came fast. "On my way. Hold on."

Dante pocketed the phone. Returned to the window.

The men were regrouping. They'd be inside soon.

He moved back to Naomi and cut her free.

"We need to go. Now."

She nodded. Followed him to the back door.

They burst outside. Ran toward the street.

Bullets chased them. Dante returned fire.

They reached an alley. Turned. Ran harder.

The SUVs followed. Tires screeching.

Dante dove behind a parked car. Naomi dropped beside him.

"We can't outrun them," she said.

"Then we stop running."

He raised his weapon and fired through the windshield of the lead SUV.

The driver slumped. The vehicle swerved and crashed into a building.

The other SUVs stopped. Men poured out.

Dante fired again. Dropped two more.

Naomi joined him. Her aim was steady.

The gunfight lasted minutes. Then the SUVs retreated.

Dante lowered his weapon. Breathing hard.

Naomi slumped against the car. "That was close."

"Too close." He helped her up. "We need to move. They'll be back with reinforcements."

They walked through the streets. Fast. Silent.

Dante's mind raced. Webb's men had found the safehouse. Had found Naomi.

Someone had told them. Someone was still feeding information.

"Sasha," he said. "She knew about the safehouse."

Naomi's eyes widened. "You think she set us up?"

"I think it's possible. But I'm not sure."

"Then who?"

Dante shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

They reached the motel. Dante locked the door and checked the windows.

Naomi sat on the bed. Her face was pale. Exhausted.

"We can't keep running," she said. "We need to end this."

"I know." Dante sat across from her. "But first, I need to know the truth."

"About what?"

"The mole. The second source. Sasha said it was someone from my past. Someone I'd never suspect."

Naomi's expression tightened. "Do you have any idea who?"

Dante was silent for a moment. Then he spoke. "My first handler. The man who recruited me. Before Webb."

Naomi's eyes widened. "He's dead."

"Is he?" Dante pulled out his phone. "I've never checked. Never confirmed."

"Then who is he?"

Dante typed a message. Sent it to an old contact. "I need information. About my first handler. His name. His location. His status."

The reply came fast. "That's classified."

"I know. But I need it."

A pause. Then: "His name is Kessler. And he's not dead. He's been off the grid for years."

Dante's blood went cold. Kessler. The man who'd trained him. The man who'd made him. He'd been alive this whole time. Watching. Waiting. And he'd been feeding information to Webb. To Aldrich. The mole. The second source. It was his own mentor.

Dante lowered the phone. His hand was steady.

Naomi studied him. "What is it?"

"Kessler. My first handler. He's alive. And he's been the traitor all along."

Naomi's face went pale. "Your old mentor? The one who taught you everything?"

"Yes." Dante stood. "He's been playing me from the start. Using me. Manipulating me. Just like Webb."

"But why?"

Dante shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out."

He walked to the door and checked his weapon.

"Where are you going?"

"To find Kessler. To end this. Once and for all."

Naomi stood. "I'm coming with you."

"No. You're staying here. If I don't come back, take the evidence and run. Expose everything."

"Dante—"

"Promise me."

She hesitated. Then she nodded.

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

He walked through the streets. His mind was clear.

Kessler. The man who'd made him. The man who'd betrayed him.

He would find him. He would confront him.

And he would end it.

---

How do you confront the person who built you, when you know they've been destroying you all along?