Chapter 8: Fire in the Garden
2:07 a.m.
The air was heavy, as if the night knew something violent was coming.
Jason crouched beneath the shadow of a banana tree outside the eastern fence of the compound. His black tactical gear blended perfectly with the darkness. A silencer was screwed onto his pistol. A comms device buzzed softly in his ear.
"Two guards at the rear gate," Briggs whispered from the van parked two streets away. "One smoking. One scrolling his phone."
Jason's voice was ice. "Time to make them ghosts."
He moved fast.
Two steps. One breath.
A swift strike to the smoker's throat.
A clean bullet to the other — silent, straight between the eyes.
They fell like leaves.
Jason dragged their bodies into the bushes.
This wasn't revenge. Not yet.
This was surgical. Precise. Controlled.
He reached the back door. Briggs' voice returned. "Security cycle reset in 60 seconds. You'll have a five-minute blackout before the cameras reboot."
"Copy," Jason said.
He entered the villa like smoke.
The halls were dimly lit, eerie with silence. Every step echoed like a warning. Jason remembered the layout — he had memorized it. South wing. First floor. Third door.
Hailey.
He moved faster.
---
Inside her room…
Hailey was curled on the floor, exhausted but wide awake. Her hand never left her belly.
She thought she heard footsteps.
Her breath caught.
The door clicked open.
She flinched, expecting James. Braced herself for his rage.
But instead — she saw a shadow. A man. Masked. Armed.
Fear gripped her… until the figure pulled off the mask.
Her heart stopped.
Tears flooded her eyes.
"Jason?" she whispered.
He dropped to his knees and held her face, breath ragged. "I'm here, baby. I'm real."
She collapsed into him, sobbing. "They said you were dead. I thought—"
"No time," he cut in. "Can you walk?"
She nodded. Weakly.
He cut her binds and lifted her gently, shielding her body with his.
Then came the sound.
A scream. A gun cocking. Footsteps.
"They've seen the breach," Briggs said in his ear. "Exit compromised."
Jason looked around. "Then we make a new exit."
---
In the garden...
James stormed out, armed with an automatic. He wasn't hiding anymore.
The house was in chaos. Alarms rang. Guards scrambled.
But Jason wasn't running. He was waiting.
In the moonlight, by the garden archway.
Jason stepped forward, gun raised.
James grinned. "You never stay dead, do you?"
"I don't die for animals," Jason growled.
James aimed first. Fired.
Jason ducked. Rolled. Shot once — James's shoulder.
Screams erupted. Bullets flew.
Guards flooded the lawn, but Jason's team — masked, armed, ruthless — poured in from the trees. Silent, professional. Military-trained.
The battle became a dance of violence.
Jason only had one target.
He chased James through the garden as roses burned, caught in crossfire.
They clashed near the marble fountain — fists now, not bullets.
"You took everything from me!" James spat, punching blindly.
Jason caught his hand, twisted, and slammed him to the ground. "You did that to yourself."
With one final blow to the head, James blacked out.
---
Dawn.
The compound burned behind them.
Hailey sat in the van, wrapped in a blanket, shaking. Jason sat beside her, arm around her shoulder.
"You're safe now," he whispered.
She touched his face. "You lied to me."
"I did."
"I don't care."
They sat in silence. And then she whispered…
"I'm pregnant."
Jason stared at her.
Emotion — raw, unfiltered — rose to his eyes.
A tear slipped down his cheek.
He kissed her forehead.
"Then we have even more to fight for."