Death crouched behind a marble column in the garden, his gaze fixed on Jason and Marcus through the ornate glass windows of the mansion.
He could hear faint murmurs but couldn’t make out their conversation. His earpiece buzzed with static before Henry's voice cut through.
"Death, do not engage unless absolutely necessary. We need Sniper alive—at least for now. If he's compromised, you know what to do."
Death clenched his jaw, irritation flaring within him. "Understood," he whispered before disconnecting the call. He tightened the grip on his wire tape, his gaze darting to the second-floor balcony where a shadow moved.
Inside the mansion, Zeek was cleaning his bloodied hands, his knuckles raw from his interrogation of Sniper. "You’re lucky Jason has plans for you, Sniper," Zeek sneered,
