THE HARVEST

THE VENT

The ventilation shaft was barely wide enough for Damon to crawl through.

He moved on his elbows, his weapon pressed against his chest, his breathing controlled. The metal walls were cold against his skin, the air thick with dust and the hum of machinery. Behind him, he could hear the others following—Maya, Thomas, Rosa, and Ava.

Ava.

He'd tried to leave her behind, but she'd refused. She'd looked him in the eye and told him she wasn't going to sit in a safehouse while he risked his life. She'd earned the right to fight.

Damon had relented. He didn't have the strength to argue.

The shaft led to a grate overlooking the server room. Damon peered through the slats, counting the guards below. Three men, just as Nora had said. Armed. Alert.

He looked back at the group. "Three guards. We take them out quietly."

Maya nodded. Thomas checked his weapon. Rosa's jaw tightened with resolve.

Ava met his eyes. She was scared, but she was ready.

Damon kicked the grate open and dropped into the room.

He landed on the first guard before the man could react, his knife finding the throat. The guard crumpled without a sound. Damon spun, his weapon raised, but Maya was already on the second guard, her hands moving with practiced precision.

The third guard reached for his weapon, but Thomas was faster. A single shot, muffled by a silencer, and the man was down.

The room fell silent.

Damon moved to the server console, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The security system was complex, encrypted, but he'd cracked systems like this before.

"Two minutes," he said. "Then the system goes down."

"Two minutes is too long," Maya said. "Someone's going to notice the guards are missing."

"Then we'd better be fast."

Damon worked, his heart pounding. The encryption was tough, but he was tougher. He traced the lines of code, searching for the vulnerability.

"Got it," he said. "System's down."

The lights flickered. The security monitors went dark. The hum of the facility's defenses fell silent.

"Now we move," Damon said.

---

The corridors were dark, the emergency lights casting long shadows. The facility was in chaos, alarms blaring from every direction.

Damon led the team through the maze, his weapon raised, his eyes scanning for threats. They encountered two more guards, both taken down before they could raise the alarm.

"Where's Christopher?" Ava asked.

"Top floor. The penthouse. He's probably preparing to escape."

"Then we need to move faster."

They reached the elevator bank, but the elevators were locked down. Damon looked at the stairs.

"Ten floors," he said. "Let's go."

They climbed, their legs burning, their lungs straining. Damon heard gunfire from below. The guards were regrouping, pushing toward them.

"We need to get to the roof," he said. "That's where the helicopter will be."

"Then why are we going to the penthouse?" Ava asked.

"Because Christopher won't be on the roof. He'll be in his office, destroying evidence. We need to stop him."

They reached the tenth floor. The door to Christopher's office was steel, reinforced, locked from the inside.

Damon looked at Thomas. "Blow it."

Thomas placed the explosives, stepping back. The blast was deafening, the door flying inward.

Damon charged through, his weapon raised.

The office was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. And standing behind the desk, his expression calm, was Christopher.

"You're persistent," Christopher said. "I'll give you that."

"Step away from the desk."

"I'm not going anywhere. I have nowhere to go." Christopher laughed. "You think you've won? You've killed a few of my people. You've disrupted one operation. But the harvest will continue. There are others. Hundreds of others."

"Not if I stop them."

Christopher smiled. "You can't stop them all. There are too many. And they're not all like Webb. Some of them are smarter. More careful. You'll never find them."

Damon's finger tightened on the trigger. "Then I'll keep looking until I do."

Christopher shook his head. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't about me. It's about the system. The demand for organs is never going to go away. There will always be people willing to pay. And there will always be people willing to provide."

"The people willing to provide are murderers."

"No. They're entrepreneurs. They're solving a problem. They're saving lives."

"You're not saving lives. You're ending them."

Christopher's smile faded. "We're all going to die, Thorne. The only question is whether we die with purpose. I've lived my life with purpose. Can you say the same?"

Damon didn't answer. He raised his weapon, aiming at Christopher's chest.

"Do it," Christopher said. "Kill me. It won't change anything. But it might make you feel better."

Damon fired.

---

The bullet struck Christopher in the chest, spinning him around. He fell to the floor, his eyes wide, his mouth open.

Damon walked toward him, his weapon still raised. Christopher was still alive, his breath shallow, his blood pooling on the floor.

"Your daughter," Christopher gasped. "She's been through so much. You think she's going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine."

"Are you sure? You've dragged her into this. You've made her watch you kill people. You've made her a killer."

Damon's hand tightened on the trigger. "She's not a killer."

"Not yet. But she will be. She's going to become just like you. And you'll have to live with that."

Damon pulled the trigger.

---

The penthouse fell silent.

Damon stood over Christopher's body, his heart pounding, his breath shallow. The rage was still there, burning in his chest.

Ava appeared in the doorway, her face pale. "Is it done?"

"It's done."

Ava walked toward him, taking his hand. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You're shaking."

Damon looked at his hand. It was trembling. He couldn't stop it.

"I'm okay," he said. "I'm okay."

---

They made their way to the roof, the helicopter waiting for them. The survivors climbed aboard, their faces exhausted but relieved.

Damon looked back at the facility, the place where Christopher had built his empire. It was over. The harvest was stopped.

But he knew it wasn't the end. There were others. And he would find them.

"Let's go home," he said.