Page 16 of Twisted Vows

“Let me drop you at your place on my way.” It didn't sit right just leaving her here alone.

She shook her head. “I think I'll have dinner first and just catch an Uber home. Thanks.” She gave me a little wave as the maître-d' arrived to seat her.

Turning on my heel, I strode out of the restaurant, mind already shifting gears. The Armenians had been a persistent threat, and if Rurik’s intel could help us neutralize them, we needed to act swiftly. The drive to the safehouse was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the task at hand. As I pulled up to the nondescript building, Rurik emerged from the shadows, his expression grim.

“What have we got?” I asked, falling into step beside him as we entered the safehouse.

“The interrogation paid off,” he said, leading me down a dimly lit corridor. “One of the lowlifes spilled about a hacker safehouse the Armenians have been using.”

I grunted in acknowledgement. Finding their cyber operations had been a priority, and a challenging one. These hackers had been elusive, covering their tracks with skill.

“Where is it?” I was already formulating a plan of attack.

He pulled up a map on his tablet, highlighting a location on the outskirts of the city. “Here. An abandoned warehouse, which is perfect for their needs.”

I studied the layout, committing every detail to memory. “We’ll need to move fast, before they get wind of this and relocate.”

He nodded, his expression hardening. “Viktor’s already assembling a team. We strike tonight.”

A thrill of anticipation coursed through me at finally gaining the upper hand against our adversaries, but it was difficult to completely banish Nika from my mind.

Pushing aside those thoughts once again, I focused on the mission ahead of us. The Armenians had been a thorn in our side for too long, and it was time to remove them once and for all.

Twenty minutes later, the warehouse loomed before us, a hulking structure of rusted metal and crumbling concrete. Rurik and I crouched behind a dilapidated fence, surveying the perimeter through our night-vision goggles.

“Two guards at the east entrance,” he said, his voice a low rumble in my earpiece.

I nodded, my gaze sweeping the area. “I see them. No visible patrols, but we can’t assume they’re alone inside.”

The plan was to neutralize the guards, breach the warehouse, and take down the Armenian hackers before they could sound the alarm or initiate any countermeasures. Time was of the essence. Every second wasted increased the risk of them slipping through our fingers once again.

With a silent signal from Rurik, we moved out like shadows slipping through the night. Our footsteps made no sound as we approached the guards, their attention focused outward and oblivious to the danger closing in.

In a blur of motion, Rurik struck first, his arm snaking around one guard’s throat, cutting off his airway. The man’s eyes bulged, his hands scrabbling uselessly against Rurik’s iron grip. Seconds later, he went limp, and my partner lowered him to the ground with practiced ease.

I was already on the second guard, my movements a lethal dance. A swift strike to the back of his knee dropped him, and before he could cry out, I pressed my forearm against his windpipe, silencing him. His struggles grew weaker, and soon, he lay unconscious at my feet.

Next, we advanced on the entrance, a heavy steel door standing between us and our objective. With a deft motion, he produced a set of lock picks, his fingers working with practiced precision. The tumblers clicked, and the door swung open with a low groan. In single file, the assault team slipped inside, our weapons raised, and senses on high alert.

The warehouse interior was dimly lit with shadows pooling in every corner. Rows of shelving units stretched before us, creating a warren of narrow corridors. Somewhere within this maze, our targets lurked, oblivious to the danger closing in.

A faint glow emanated from deeper within the warehouse, revealing the telltale flicker of computer monitors. We moved in that direction as quietly as possible. As we reached the room, Rurik held up a fist, signaling for the rest of us to halt. Peering around the corner of a shelving unit, I spotted a makeshift command center filled with a cluster of desks and monitors surrounded by an array of computer equipment.

Three figures hunched over the workstations, their faces illuminated by the harsh glare of the screens. Hackers, no doubt. Their fingers flew over keyboards as they carried out their nefarious tasks.

Rurik jerked his head to the right, and we split up, half of the team each taking a different approach vector. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I closed the distance.

Suddenly, one of the hackers tensed, his head swiveling in my direction. When our gazes met, his mouth opened, a shout of alarm forming on his lips.

I reacted on instinct, launching myself forward with explosive speed. I clamped my hand over his mouth, muffling his cry as I slammed him back against the desk. His eyes widened in terror, but I held him pinned, my gaze boring into his. “Make a sound, and you’re dead,” I said harshly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Rurik emerge from the shadows, his weapon trained on the other two hackers, followed by two of our guys. The hackers froze, hands raised in surrender, their faces etched with fear.

“Don’t move,” he said in a gravelly voice.

The hacker in my grasp whimpered, panic etched into his features. I tightened my grip, digging my fingers into his flesh in a silent warning.

“Where are the others?” I demanded, my voice a low rumble. “This can’t be all of you.”