Page 85 of Playing with Fire

Because Phoenix had taken his game to a new level tonight. He'd sacrificed a facility, resources, and personnel just to deliver a message. To prove he could predict our moves, anticipate our strategies, and still maintain the upper hand.

But he'd miscalculated on one crucial point. He'd left me alive. Again.

And I never made the same mistake twice when hunting.

IstumbledthroughtheSentinel's reinforced entrance, my body operating on autopilot while my mind remained trapped in that ruined room with Algerone. The taste of dust and blood lingered on my tongue, mingling with the acrid remnants of the explosion that had changed everything. Commander Reid and his team flanked me, their faces grim with the weight of what we'd left behind.

As we entered the main foyer, Leo came running, his face pale. The moment he saw me, something in him seemed to collapse, as if the strings holding him upright had suddenly been cut. He launched himself at me, arms wrapping around my torso with bruising intensity.

"You're okay," he whispered against my neck, his breath warm and alive and everything I needed. "You're actually okay."

I held him, my arms tightening around his familiar frame, drawing strength from his solidity, his realness. For a moment, we stood frozen in that embrace, neither willing to be the first to let go.

"I heard the explosion," Leo said, pulling back just enough to scan my face, his fingers tracing the cuts and bruises. "The comms went dead. I thought..."

"I'm here," I assured him, pressing my forehead to his. The words felt inadequate, but they were all I had. "I came back. Just like I promised."

Movement caught my attention over Leo's shoulder. Xander and Xion stood in the doorway to the command center, their expressions shifting from relief to confusion as they registered the state of our returning party. Their eyes scanned the team, counting, realizing who was missing.

"Where's Algerone?" Xander asked, their voice uncharacteristically subdued.

The question hung in the air, heavy and impossible to avoid. I released Leo, though my hand remained on his lower back.

"There was a trap," I said, the words tasting like ash. "A bomb. It brought down part of the building. Algerone was pinned under the debris."

"And you just left him there?" Xion's voice was sharp, accusing. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, body coiled with sudden tension.

"He ordered me to go," I replied, meeting my brother's gaze. "There was a piece of rebar in his back. Near his spine. He couldn't feel his legs."

Xander's hand flew to their mouth, a gesture so authentically shocked it stripped away all their usual dramatic armor. For once, there were no quips, no deflections, just raw emotion bleeding through their carefully cultivated facade.

"But he was alive when you left?" Xion pressed.

"Yes. He stayed behind to buy us time. To cover our escape."

A harsh sound from the far side of the foyer drew our attention. Maxime stood frozen, his tablet sliding from suddenly nerveless fingers to clatter against the marble floor. His professional mask had shattered completely, leaving naked grief in its place. In that moment, he looked decades younger, vulnerable in a way I'd never seen before.

"Monsieur Etremont is... gone?" The question emerged broken, his accent thickening with emotion.

"We don't know for sure," I said, though the words felt like a lie even as I spoke them. "The building was compromised. Burns' security forces were closing in. But Algerone was armed and he's... resourceful."

Maxime's face went through a complicated series of expressions, landing finally on a brittle composure that seemed one wrong word away from shattering. "I see. Thank you for the information." His voice was mechanical, devoid of the subtle inflections that usually characterized his speech. "I should notify the necessary parties."

He turned away, back military straight, shoulders rigid with the effort of maintaining control. Three steps, and his knees buckled. He caught himself against the wall, one hand pressed to his mouth, the other flat against the smooth surface as if that connection to something solid was all that kept him upright.

Commander Reid moved forward, his hand settling on Maxime's shoulder with unexpected gentleness. "Let me help you, Max."

Maxime nodded once, a jerky motion that betrayed how close he was to breaking. Reid guided him from the room with careful efficiency, murmuring something too low for the rest of us to hear.

In their absence, silence descended, heavy with implications none of us were ready to process. Algerone had always been a complicated figure in our lives. Not quite father, not quite enemy, but undeniably connected to us by blood and circumstance. His potential loss opened questions none of us had answers for.

"So that's it?" Xander finally broke the silence. "Algerone's just... gone? After everything?"

"He gave me something before I left," I said, reaching into my pocket to extract the tactical pad containing the access codes Algerone had entrusted to me. "Full access to Lucky Losers. All of it. Resources, personnel, intelligence networks. He said he'd been planning for this possibility since the day he found us."

Xion's brow furrowed. "Why would he do that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But whatever his reasons, we now have access to resources that could help us end Phoenix once and for all."