Page 78 of Faron
We moved like shadows.
Down the fire escape. Across the service level. Into the building’s emergency stairwell.
Floor by floor, we cleared our path, disabling cameras and dropping security without a word.
Finally, the top floor.
Phelan sat behind a glass desk, sipping something neat, his phone to his ear.
Then he looked up and saw us.
He didn’t even flinch.
“Figured you’d come eventually,” he said calmly, setting the drink down. “You people always think you’re cleaning up. But this kind of rot doesn’t end. You cut off one head—”
“You’re not Hydra,” I said, stepping into the room. “You’re just a parasite who finally ran out of hosts.”
He smiled. “So what now? You kill me?”
“No,” I said. “We expose you.”
Cyclone handed me a flash drive. Tag had traced the money trail, copied every transaction, every fake housing record, every payment to known mercenaries—including one with Phelan’s signature.
I tossed it on the desk. “You’re done.”
Phelan stared at it.
Then Cyclone shot the laptop beside him, sparks flying. “That was a warning.”
Raven leaned in. “You don’t get another.”
We walkedhim out in cuffs.
No press. No fanfare.
Just justice, served cold.
As we loaded him into the transport van, I pulled out my phone and called Aponi.
“It’s done,” I said.
A pause.
Then her voice, steady but quiet. “Thank you.”
I looked at the skyline, thinking about how much she’d carried, how long she’d waited for the truth.
“No,” I said. “Youdid it. We just made sure you walked out of it alive.”
She didn’t answer right away. Then: “I can breathe again.”
“You’re not done yet,” I said. “But now… you’re finally free to heal.”
72
Aponi
The knock came just before sunset.
