July 16, 2026 – Manhattan Outer Borough Moving Minibus Time: 4:00 a.m.
The smell of gunpowder and burnt flesh inside the minibus mingled with the scent of Ivy's perfume. Her fingers gripping the steering wheel were clenched white. As the fire at the port shrank in the rearview mirror, the silence between us grew like a bomb ready to explode.
"Talk, Ivy," I said, my voice as sharp as a knife. "What was Carter talking about? Why is Thomas so relaxed? Why does he know our every move in advance?"
Ivy slammed on the brakes. The minibus skidded to a halt in the middle of an empty side street. Ivy rested her forehead on the steering wheel and began to sob. This was not the voice of the strong, obsessive woman I always knew, but that of a cornered victim.
"Michael forced me into this," Ivy said, without lifting her head. "Elara and Natalia... He's been watching them since they left the Alchemist's facility. If I hadn't given you that false intelligence, Carter's team would have blown up that house in Toronto tonight. Luring you to the port was the price of their lives."
I jumped up and grabbed Ivy's shoulders. "You lied to me! You knew I'd protect you, but you chose to make a deal with my uncle!"
"Because I know you!" Ivy shouted, tears wiping away the gunpowder residue on her cheeks. "You would sacrifice yourself, Michael. But your uncle doesn't want you dead. He wants you. He wants you by his side, seated at that dark table."
I snatched the phone from Ivy's hand. I tried to reach the Alchemist, but the line was dead. In that moment, I realized that Thomas Hale had wrapped his tentacles around not just Chicago or New York, but my entire network of trust. Ivy wasn't a traitor; she was just the most ruthless card in Thomas's hand.
Suddenly, a red laser dot hit the minivan's windshield. Then another.
"Michael, duck!"
The moment Ivy pushed me down, the windshield shattered into a thousand pieces. But the shooters weren't federal agents. It was masked executioners surrounding us on black, unlicensed motorcycles. Thomas Hale's special elimination squad: The Reapers.
As Ivy shifted into gear and floored the gas, I felt the rear door handle being forced from the outside. Someone had grabbed onto the minivan. I drew my gun, but what I saw when the door opened paralyzed me.
The person who came wasn't an enemy. It was someone covered in blood, gasping for breath, holding a USB drive.
"Michael! Stop! Don't trust Ivy!"
That voice... It was Natalia's voice. But wasn't Natalia supposed to be in Toronto?