9: Fire

ay alive much longer. But she had one use left. Bait. Leo glanced at her. "Once we leak her location, there's no walking it back. Ikenna will come himself." "That's the plan." He held her gaze. "You sure you're ready?" Zara didn't blink. "I've been ready since the first lie she told me." They waited until dawn. Zara slipped a tracker signal into the global leak chain, encrypted to ping one person only: Ikenna. It contained only one line: "Mother is dying. Come clean up your mess." It was their loudest whisper yet. Within thirty minutes, they intercepted movement. A black ops team rerouted out of Abuja-unmarked, fast, surgical. No official channels. Just like ghosts. Inside the hospital, Zara moved like a shadow. Medical staff had been rotated out. The guards were ex-SIRS, one loyal, one scared. Leo sedated the frightened one. Zara killed the loyalist-quick, clean, necessary. Ayanda was in bed, pale but conscious. "You," she rasped, voice thin but sharp. "Of course." Zara sat beside her, the gun resting in her lap. "They sent someone to finish the job," Ayanda said. Zara shook her head. "No. I'm here to use you. Just like you used me." Ayanda laughed, then winced. "So now you understand." "I always understood," Zara replied. "I just finally decided who I want to be." Outside, Leo whispered into her comm. "They're two minutes out." Ayanda turned her head. "He's coming, isn't he?" Zara nodded. "The butcher." Ayanda sighed. "He won't hesitate. Not like me." "That's why he'll lose," Zara said, rising to her feet. She turned toward the door. "I'll leave your file behind when we go," she added. "Not for mercy. Just to remind you what you destroyed." Ayanda's eyes closed. Zara walked out. The strike team entered at 06:12 a.m. Leo met them on the third floor. Bullets flew within seconds-glass shattering, alarms blaring. Fire caught in the east wing. Zara circled from the rooftop, picking off targets through the skylight. Then, she saw him. Ikenna. Tall. Cold. Masked in black. He moved without speaking. He didn't direct his men-he hunted with them. Calculated. Mechanical. A viper with no pulse. Zara adjusted her aim, heart pounding. Leo's voice crackled in her comm: "I have him in sight." "Don't shoot," Zara said. "Let him come to her." They wanted the system to eat itself. And now it would. The hallway to Ayanda's roo