Page 7 of Closer Than You Think
My mind starts its usual churning, calculating angles, exits, collateral damage.
“The rewards are substantial.”
“And the risks?”
“Substantial as well. But you are not one to shy away from danger, are you, Silas?”
A smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth, unseen by the voice but felt in my bones. “No. I am not.”
“Good. We’ve just sent over the dossier.”
I check my phone and see a new email containing an encrypted file.
“Received.”
“Password is jubilee. I expect to see the results on the news shortly.”
“Understood.” The line goes dead, but the thrill is just beginning—a pulse that drums in sync with the heartbeat of Alcott City.
I assemble my team back to the war room with a single text. They file in a few minutes later, silent phantoms awaiting orders.
“New assignment,” I say, my gaze sweeping over Alan, Cain, and Blake. “The Syndicate. High risk, high reward.”
I pull up the dossier and share it with each of them.
“Anything we should be concerned about?” Alan's question slices the tension hanging in the air.
“Political ties. It'll be like threading a needle blindfolded.”
“Sounds like a typical Tuesday,” Cain quips, but his eyes are sharp, already assessing the dangers.
Blake's hands hover above his tablet, ready to carve out our digital path. “What's the play, Si?”
I lean back against the desk, arms crossed. “We take it. We plan meticulously, we execute flawlessly, and we leave no trace.”
“Isn't that playing with fire?” Blake asks, the flicker of concern in his young eyes swiftly doused by the determination set in mine. “We’ve never taken a job from them before.”
That we know of, I think. The Syndicate has its claws in so many facets of our society, it’s hard to know which is clean. But they also have the funds and enough business to keep the kills coming. Something that sets my mind alight.
“Fire is an old friend,” I reply, feeling its burn in my veins. “The Syndicate knows this. They know what Ares brings to the table.”
“Then we prepare for hell,” Alan says, a grin spreading across his face. The kind of grin only warriors wear when they smell the battle coming.
“Exactly.” I nod once, firmly.
“I want us preparing for this like it’s the goddamn SATs. Not a single thing goes overlooked.”
“They’re calling for two hits?” Cain asked, still reading through the dossier on his laptop.
“One is to be a diversion. Big, messy. The other is the main target. That needs to be swift and silent.”
Everyone is quiet for a moment, thinking it through. We’ve had jobs that tackled multiple targets at once, but none that were this high-profile and specific. The Syndicate wants the Senator to die in a way that paints the opposition as a suspect. Framing people isn’t exactly in our job description, but for a client this big, we can damn sure make it be.
“Cain, I want to hear your ideas by—” I look at the calendar on my phone. I have meetings all morning downstairs. As in, the legitimate side of the business. That will probably make me want to rip my hair out. “—1 p.m. tomorrow?”
“On it,” he said, his hands already flying over the keyboard.
“Alright. We’ll all meet then and go from there.”
