"Which doesn't mean he'll follow through," Nadia argues. "Threats are leverage. If he destroys the network, he has nothing left to bargain with."
"Unless destroying the network was always the goal," Marcellus says quietly. "And the bargaining is just entertainment."
We all consider that for a moment. The thought of Konstantin playing with us, drawing out our suffering for his own amusement, feels disturbingly plausible.
"We go," Maximus says finally. "As demanded. Both of us."
"That's exactly what he wants," Nadia protests.
"Yes. And if we don't give him what he wants, people die." Maximus's voice is hard. "The coordinators. The donors. Everyone who depends on this network. I won't sacrifice them because walking into a trap makes me uncomfortable."
"It's not about comfort. It's about survival."
"It's about both." He looks around the table, meeting each pair of eyes in turn. "We go. But we go prepared. Strike team positioned nearby, ready to extract us if things go wrong. Secondary forces at the distribution hub in case this meeting is a diversion. And everyone else here, defending the compound."
"That spreads us thin," Julian observes.
"We're already thin. We've been thin since this war started." Maximus's jaw tightens. "This is the best we can do with what we have."
"What about the daylight issue?" Elena asks. "If Konstantin can really walk in sunlight…"
"Then we deal with that when we have confirmation." Maximus stands, signaling the meeting's end. "Right now, it's a fragment of a memory from a mind that's been manipulated. We can't plan around something we're not sure is real."
The others file out, each to their assigned tasks. I stay behind, watching Maximus stare at the map on the wall. The weight on his shoulders is visible in every line of his body.
"You don't have to go," I say quietly. "I could meet with him alone. You're too important to risk."
He turns to look at me, something fierce in his eyes. "You think I'd let you face him alone?"
"I think you're the one holding this network together. If something happens to you…"
"If something happens to me, Marcellus takes over. He's been preparing for that possibility for two centuries." He crosses to me, takes my face in his hands. "I'm not sending you into that warehouse without me. We're partners. We face this together."
"Even if it's a trap?"
"Especially if it's a trap." He kisses me, brief but firm. "Now come. We have preparations to make."
The hours before the meeting pass too quickly.
Marcellus rigs trackers for both of us, small devices hidden in our clothing. Nadia provides panic signals, buttons that look innocuous but send an emergency alert to the strike team. Julian briefs the extraction squad on every possible approach to the warehouse, every exit, every contingency.
Through it all, Maximus and I work side by side. Checkingweapons. Reviewing plans. Preparing for every scenario we can imagine.
An hour before the meeting,we find ourselves alone in his quarters.
Maximus stands by the window, looking out through a gap in the blackout curtains. The moonlight casts faint illumination across the sharp planes of his face, softening them. He looks younger in this light. More human.
I cross to him, and he opens his arms without looking. I step into them like I've been doing it for centuries.
"I'm scared," I admit.
The vulnerability of the admission surprises me. I don't usually confess to fear. In the underground fighting circuit, fear was weakness. You swallowed it, buried it, used it as fuel. You never, ever named it out loud.
But I'm not in the ring anymore. And this man has seen my worst memories through my own blood. There's nothing left to hide.
"Good," he says, his voice rumbling through his chest where my ear presses against it. "Fear keeps you sharp."
"What if we can't get out? What if he's planned for everything?"
