Travis breaks the silence.
“I got into another Collective archive,” he says. “Different build. Different security.”
Brooke leans forward slightly. “Meaning?”
He taps a key and turns one of the monitors toward us.
Kristie Talbert’s face fills the screen. Smiling like she is not a fucking demon.
Brooke goes still.
“She put out a contract,” Travis says. “On both of you.”
My jaw tightens. “Amount?”
“Two million each,” Travis replies. “Dead only.”
Beau exhales through his nose.
Travis keeps going. “One more condition. It has to be recorded. She wants proof.”
Brooke’s mouth curves. “She wants to watch.”
Travis nods. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
The room goes quiet.
I lean forward, palms flat on the slate. “Who else is in?”
Travis pulls up another screen.
Names. Handles. Flags. Locations.
“This is where Beau’s assassin intel comes in,” Travis types something. “Since Knox died, the Collective assumes you’re actively hunting. That moved you from a minor problem to priority.”
Beau steps closer and taps the screen. “These are confirmed entries. Ten so far.”
Brooke scans the list, her eyes moving slowly over each name. “Any familiar ones?”
I nod once. “Elliot. Sophie. Don. Joe.”
I barely pause on them.
“They’re amateurs,” I add. “Easy to deal with. Just harder to find.”
My gaze moves lower on the list, then stops.
“And him,” I tap the screen. “Rafe Calder.”
Brooke looks up. “Who’s that?”
“Claims he’s a sniper,” I scoff. “Has a reputation, but it’s mostly noise. He hits what’s standing still. That’s about it.”
Her posture shifts as she leans in slightly.
I keep reading.
“Sergei Volkov.”
