THE WOMAN HE HIRED

8

Ramsi stepped back from the handler, eyes sharp, unblinking.

“You’re walking out,” she said flatly. “Because anything you tell me right now is worthless. Hall’s got you too deep to be honest, and I won’t let you waste time I need for real intel.”

The handler’s jaw tightened, a flash of frustration passing across his face. “You think you can do this without me?”

“I know I can,” Ramsi said evenly. “You’re compromised. You’re predictable. And right now… you’re a liability.”

Sage tilted her head, voice low but amused. “You’re letting him go?”

Ramsi didn’t answer immediately. She didn’t need to. Every instinct screamed: no point wasting energy on a known liar. Their priority was Hall—and surviving him.

Dominic’s voice came sharp but calm through the earpiece. Copy that. Confirming overwatch positions. Eyes on exits. Don’t engage unless necessary.

Enzo’s clipped tone followed. Rear and side alleyways secure. Extraction ready. Handler moving? Track him from a distance.

Ramsi exhaled slowly, pocketing her phone and activating Tate’s secure line. The faint crackle of his voice filled the earpiece immediately.

“Tate,” she said quietly, “Handler’s compromised. I’m letting him walk. Keep eyes on him—don’t let him disappear entirely. Focus on Hall.”

TATE (over secure line): Understood. He’s being tailed. Nothing moves unnoticed. You want me to feed movement in real time?

“Yes,” Ramsi replied, calm, precise. “And keep the other signals clean. I don’t want Hall catching us off guard because of him.”

“Copy,” Tate said. “I’ve got you covered.”

Sage leaned close, whispering. “You really do just… make the hard calls, don’t you?”

Ramsi shot her a glance, expression unreadable. “Someone has to. The rest of us? We execute.”

Dominic’s voice cut softly through her earpiece again, almost a murmur, but it carried a weight that made her pulse skip. You’re not alone in this. Eyes on you. Ready if you need me.

Her lips twitched slightly—not a smile, not exactly—but a fleeting acknowledgment. She didn’t need to say anything. He understood.

Enzo’s tone was matter-of-fact. Handler moving. Still being tracked. Hall’s not aware yet.

Ramsi took a slow breath. “Good. Let him go. We focus on Hall. Tate, feed me movement. Sage, we’re inside Hall’s perimeter in five. Dominic, Enzo… watch from your positions. Full control. No surprises.”

“Understood,” Sage said, already adjusting her gear.

“Copy,” Enzo replied.

Dominic’s voice lingered a fraction longer, almost intimate, almost teasing, in the crackle of the secure line. I’m not letting anyone catch you off guard. Not him. Not anyone.

Ramsi’s eyes met the dark streets outside the broken windows. She felt the pull of the city, the weight of Hall’s obsession, and the calm certainty of Dominic’s presence nearby.

“Good,” she said softly. “Then let’s finish this.”

The handler lingered for a heartbeat, studying her, and then stepped toward the exit—aware, controlled, aware of how little power he really had.

The building loomed ahead, dark brick and broken windows patched with plywood. Ramsi led the way, Sage following silently, boots soft on wet pavement.

Her phone buzzed—the secure line from Tate—but the tone was different this time, tense.

“Ramsi,” Tate’s voice came through, low, clipped. “I’ve got nothing. Hall’s gone dark. No active signal. He’s hiding, off-grid. Any movement I see is old… outdated by hours.”

Ramsi’s jaw tightened. “Meaning?”

“He’s not just hiding,” Tate said. “He’s smart. He’s covering everything. No street cams, no drones, no digital trace. Whoever tried to bait you out? It worked. You’ve got to go on instincts. Everything else is speculation.”

Sage’s eyebrows lifted. “Great. So he’s a ghost too.”

“Exactly,” Ramsi said flatly. “And ghosts are dangerous.”

Dominic’s voice cut in over the earpiece, calm and steady as ever. Then we move on your signal. Eyes on all exits. Enzo and I keep perimeter. You take the lead inside.

Enzo’s tone followed: Rear alleyways and streets secure. Extraction ready. Nothing slips past.

Ramsi pocketed the phone, every sense alert. The handler had been a dead end; Hall was hidden. Tate could only guide them with advice, not a location. The weight of uncertainty pressed into her chest—but that was where she thrived.

Sage leaned closer, voice low. “So, what’s the plan? Chase shadows?”

Ramsi shook her head. “We control the perimeter, we move smart, we force him into a mistake. He’s hiding, yes. But he’s hungry. Obsessed. He’ll make himself visible eventually.”

Dominic’s voice came through again, quieter this time, just for her. I’m here. Eyes on you. Ready if he pops up.

Her pulse hitched for a fraction—less fear, more awareness of his presence. The pull between them was subtle, electric, impossible to ignore even now.

Sage smirked, noticing nothing but the tension she herself thrived on. “You’re really calm about being hunted.”

“Because I have no choice,” Ramsi replied. “We move, we watch, we strike. And nothing else matters until he surfaces.”

Enzo’s clipped tone cut in. All exits secured. No activity yet, but eyes remain open. He’s hiding… for now.

Ramsi stepped closer to the door, scanning the shadows inside the building. “Then we wait. And when he shows, we’re ready. Dominic, Enzo—you keep eyes outside. Sage and I go in.”

Dominic’s voice softened slightly, almost intimate in the earpiece. You’re not alone in there.

Her gaze met the dark streets outside for a heartbeat, imagining him watching, guarding, ready. She didn’t respond—but that quiet acknowledgment was enough.

Sage muttered under her breath: “Ghosts, kings, obsessions… and we’re dancing right in the middle of all of it.”

Ramsi didn’t answer. Her eyes scanned the shadows, calculating, patient, every sense alert. Hall might be hiding—but she would find him. And when she did, she’d be ready.

The city breathed around them, oblivious. Inside, the storm waited—and Ramsi was ready to step into it.