Grief is a luxury. It belongs to people who have time to cry, people who have futures that aren't currently being targeted by laser-guided Guns.
I didn't have grief because had a schedule.
I walked back into the bookshop at 1440 North Wells 3 hours after I left the asylum. My suit was still damp from the rain, and my shoes were muddy from the grounds where my mother had vanished.
When the elevator doors opened into the bunker, the Shadow Cabinet was waiting. The atmosphere was different this time. It wasn't bored rather It was electric with the static of violence.
General Silas Thorne stood by the map table, moving digital battalions across the screen. Elena was on three phones at once, speaking in rapid-fire Mandarin. Kovac was loading magazines stacks of them.
Silas looked up and scanned me, looking for the boy who had left earlier but he didn't find him.
"The Janitor team went dark," Silas said. It wasn't a question "We lost your mother."
"She was kidnapped," I said, walking to the table. I kept my face blank and didn't mention the signal. I didn't mention the man with the phantom earpiece tic. To the General, and to the Tablet, that man didn't exist "A third party hit the facility and cut the lines, killed the guards."
"The Syndicate?" Elena asked, lowering one of her phones.
"No," I said "The Syndicate would have killed her and sent us the photos to rattle me, These people took her alive they were... gentle."
"Leverage," Silas spat "They're holding her to force a negotiation."
"Maybe," I lied "But right now, she's off the board and if she's off the board, she's safe from the crossfire. That makes her a non-factor for the next forty-eight hours."
The room went quiet. Even Kovac stopped loading his gun and stared at me. I had just dismissed my mother's kidnapping as a strategic convenience. It was the coldest thing I had ever said.
It was exactly what they wanted to hear.
"Good," Silas nodded slowly, a dark approval in his eyes "You're learning. Emotions are variables eliminate the variables."
He gestured to the map "We have confirmed movement Syndicate heads are arriving in Chicago. The Japanese delegation landed at O'Hare an hour ago, The Russians are coming in by private rail."
"They're coming for the funeral," I said.
"They're coming to carve up the carcass," Kovac corrected "They think the funeral is a surrender ceremony and you're going to announce the dissolution of the company and beg for a pension."
"Let them think it," I said "Let's talk about the venue."
I pulled the tablet from my pocket. It was quiet now, sullen after its failure at the asylum i pulled up the schematics which I downloaded on the drive over.
"St. Jude's Cathedral," I said. "It's in the chaotic heart of the city, but it's isolated by its own architecture. Thick stone walls, Limited exits."
"It's a fortress," Kovac grunted "Hard to breach."
"And hard to escape," I added "I've rented it out. The official story is a 'Private State Service' for Marcus Thorne, Security provided by Thorne Industries. No press inside the sanctuary, Just family and 'associates'."
I swiped the screen, bringing up the floor plan of the massive structure.
"The nave fits five hundred," I said, pointing to the central aisle "The Syndicate leadership the Dons, the CEOs, the Generals they'll want the front rows. They'll want to be close to the casket to verify the body and want to look me in the eye."
"And their security?" Elena asked.
"They'll bring their own," Silas said "We can't stop them without raising suspicion."
"We let them in," I said "We let them bring their guns and let them feel safe. That's the point of a Trojan Horse, You don't stop the enemy at the gate but you invite them to dinner."
I looked at Kovac "Can you rig the building in twenty-four hours?"
Kovac smiled. It was a terrifying expression that exposed too many teeth "Mr. Chairman, give me twenty-four hours and I can rig the Vatican to launch into orbit. What do you need? C-4 under the pews? Sarin gas in the ventilation?"
"No," I said. "Too messy and indiscriminate. I need to be the one standing on the stage when it happens and need to survive."
I zoomed in on the schematic.
"The cathedral has an automated fire suppression system. Halon gas for the archives, high-pressure water for the main hall but the locking mechanism... the doors are magnetic. Old iron reinforced with modern tech."
I looked at the tablet.
ASSET: ST. JUDE'S SECURITY GRID.
STATUS: HACKED.
CONTROL: OVERRIDDEN.
"We lock them in," I said "We separate the leaders from their security details using the blast shutters in the transept and then... we liquidate the leadership."
"How?" Silas asked "You're going to be in the room with them, David. If the shooting starts, you're the first target."
I looked at the tablet.
ASSET UNLOCKED: "THE PHALANX."
PROTOTYPE: ACTIVE CAMOUFLAGE / BALLISTIC SHIELDING.
"Because I won't be alone," I said.
I looked at the file on the screen. It was a project my father had buried deep in the R&D budget. Project Phalanx. Automated, high-velocity drone turrets disguised as architectural elements.
"Can we install these?" I asked Kovac, pointing to the gargoyles and the pillars in the schematic.
Kovac leaned in, squinting at the specs. He let out a low whistle "These? These are war crimes, kid. Autonomous targeting 5.56 micro-rounds. If we mount these in the choir loft..."
"Do it," I said "Paint them to look like stone and when the doors lock, I give the signal. The drones drop the security teams. The rest... I'll handle."
Silas crossed his arms "You'll handle the heads of the Five Families? Personally?"
"My Father used to say survival requires a show of force," I said "If I hide behind a drone, they'll fear it. If I pull the trigger, they'll fear me."
"It's risky," Elena warned "If the jamming fails, if one of them gets a message out..."
"Then we die," I said "We're already dead, Elena do you forget the bounty is fifty million. This is the only way to clear the ledger."
I stood up "Send the invitations and tell them it's an open casket. Tell them I'm ready to negotiate terms of surrender and..."
I paused, thinking of my father's head on the floor.
"Tell them the King is dead, and the Prince is terrified."
The next twenty-four hours were a blur of logistics and dread.
While Kovac and his team turned a house of God into a slaughterhouse, I retreated to the St. Regis to prepare myself.
I didn't sleep because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the footage of my mother walking away with the stranger. Tap. Tap.
Why hadn't she told me? Why did she leave me with the Shadow Cabinet?
Don't trust the General.
I looked at the file on the tablet. FILE 001 and It sat there in the root directory, mocking me. I hovered my finger over it a dozen times. But I couldn't open it. Not yet I needed focus. If that file contained what I thought it contained betrayal, lies, secrets about my father it would break me and I couldn't afford to break before the funeral. I had to be diamond-hard.
Instead, I focused on the physical.
The Janitors delivered the suit. It wasn't just fabric it was a weave of Kevlar and impact-resistant gel, tailored to look like Italian wool. It could stop a knife and a low-caliber bullet. It cost more than the house I grew up in.
I put it on. It felt heavy.
I practiced the speech. I stared at the mirror, refining the mask, I had to look weak. I had to look defeated. I had to slump my shoulders just enough to make the sharks smell blood.
At 3:00 AM, the night before the service, my burner phone buzzed.
I picked it up. No number.
"They took the bait," the voice said. It was Kovac. He sounded happy "RSVPs are in. The Petrov brothers. The Tanaka clan. The cartel representatives. Even old man Varga is coming out of retirement in Sicily."
"All of them?" I asked.
"Everyone who wants a piece of the Thorne pie," Kovac said "They're bringing heavy hitters, David. We're tracking snipers setting up on the adjacent rooftops and armored convoys."
"Let them set up," I said "The action isn't outside but inside."
"One more thing," Kovac said, his voice dropping "General Silas wants to put a tail on you. Close protection, Just in case."
Don't trust the General.
"No," I said instantly "If I have guards, the Syndicate will get nervous I need to look vulnerable. I walk in alone."
"Your funeral, boss," Kovac chuckled darkly "Literally."
He hung up.
I walked to the window of the hotel suite. The city was asleep, a sprawling grid of lights under a heavy, overcast sky and Somewhere out there, my enemies were sleeping soundly, dreaming of the billions they would steal from my corpse tomorrow.
And somewhere out there, my mother was... safe? Or was she?
I touched the cold glass of the window.
"I'm coming for you," I whispered to the reflection "But first, I have to bury Dad."
I looked at the tablet sitting on the coffee table. It lit up, sensing my movement.
EVENT: THE FUNERAL.
ODDS OF SUCCESS: 42%.
RECOMMENDATION: WRITE A WILL.
I smirked. The machine had a sense of humor.
"I don't need a will," I said, picking it up "I'm the beneficiary."
I slipped the tablet into my breast pocket, right over my heart.
The sun began to crest over Lake Michigan, painting the sky in bruises of purple and red. It was time.
I walked out of the hotel room and didn't look back. The boy who had cried in this room was gone. The man walking to the elevator was nothing but a Devil for them.