Chapter 11: The Silent Accord
The quiet didn’t last long.
At 3:17 a.m., Jax woke to the subtle crunch of gravel beneath boots.
Too many.
Too synchronized.
He rolled out of bed, pulled his weapon from beneath the floorboard, and whispered into the earpiece: “Wake up. We’ve got ghosts incoming.”
Pierce’s voice cracked through. “No calls. No satellites pinged. This came black.”
Sienna was already sliding into her vest, tossing Mercer-02 a comm. “We’re being burned.”
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The Silent Accord
Six operatives. Black gear. No insignias. Thermal cloaks. They moved like they weren’t meant to exist — because they didn’t.
“Who are they?” Sienna asked as they ducked behind the cellar bulkhead.
Jax checked his sightline. “Not Lazarus. Worse. I think they’re external compliance.”
Pierce’s voice
