The SDC warehouse thrummed with servers and reeked of ozone. On the main monitor, Detective Anna Harris’s body cam froze on the last page of the OP-RETRIBUTION file. Sarah Miller’s name blazed at Devin, taunting him from beyond the grave.

  Devin sat motionless, his matte-black suit gauntlets clenched on the desk. He resembled a statue more than a man.

  "Devin, talk to me," Wesley’s voice came through the comms, hesitant and soft. "The biometric sensors in your suit are spiking. Your heart rate is sustained at 110. Your adrenaline levels are off the charts."

  "She was there, Wes," Devin said, voice harsh and hollow. "Three years ago. She stood in my uncle’s yard. She watched the fire. She’s the 'Primary Operator.'"

  "We knew it was the Red Knights, Dev. We knew it was Jones," Wesley pleaded, his typing speed increasing as he monitored the escalating situation at the Carlax building. "Finding the specific name doesn't change the mission. It just gives the monster a face."

  "It changes everything," Devin growled. He shot upright, his knee brace venting with a predator’s hiss. "The mission was about the system. Now it’s about the hand wielding the match."

  "Devin, wait! Project Aegis is fully operational in that sector," Wesley shouted, his voice cracking with genuine fear. "If you drop in there now, you aren't going in as a ghost. You’re going in as a target. You’re being reckless!"

  Devin didn’t answer. He gripped the cowl with both hands, pulling it over his face until the white eyes lit up and hid his features. He turned away from the monitors showing the mission parameters and Harris’s location, blocking them out. All he could think about was the cross burning in the dark, the fire consuming the yard, and the message left for his uncle.

  The Carlax building was lit up with flashing lights, and rain poured. side, Anna Harris moved toward the elevators, holding the James Stone folder tightly under her arm. She heard the heavy thud of tactical boots in the stairwell. The Red Knights weren’t coming to arrest her. They wanted the evidence and to silence the witness.

  Suddenly, the glass windows of the executive atrium shattered inward.

  The Black Ghost didn’t slip in or skulk through shadows. He burst through the glass, propelled by rage. He crashed onto the marble floor and never slowed.

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  "Where is she?" the Ghost roared, his voice-modulator glitching under the strain of his shouting.

  Red Knights rounded the corner, rifles raised. Devin usually used a flashbang or a smoke grenade. Tonight, he simply charged.

  A bullet slammed into his shoulder plating, making him stagger briefly, but he surged forward. He struck the group with such ferocity that Anna froze in the doorway. He wasn’t subduing threats; he was annihilating them. He hurled one man through a glass display case, shattering it, then spun and drove his elbow into another’s helmet with a sharp crack.

  "Devin, stop!" Wesley yelled in his ear. "The Aegis scanners have a lock! They’re routing a heavy response team to your exact coordinates! You’re going to get pinned down!"

  "I don't care!" Devin snarled back. He seized a Knight by the throat and slammed him against the wall, forcing out the words, "Where is Miller? Tell me where she is!"

  "She's not here, Ghost!" Anna shouted from across the room, her service weapon drawn but lowered as she watched the carnage. "She left the building ten minutes ago! You’re fighting ghosts!"

  Devin stopped, holding the limp Knight. He turned to Anna. The mask’s white eyes flickered; his shoulders slumped. The calm, focused SEAL was gone, replaced by someone shaken and broken.

  "She’s the one," Devin said, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and grief.

  "I know," Anna said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the chaos. "I have the file. We can do this the right way."

  "There is no right way in this city," the Ghost replied.

  A red laser dot appeared on Devin’s chest, showing that Aegis had finished locking on. A sniper in the building across the street fired. The bullet hit the floor just inches from Devin’s boot.

  "Devin, get out of there now!" Wesley’s voice was a frantic scream. "The net is closing! I’m losing the signal loop! Go!"

  Devin glanced at Anna, then at the folder in her arms. The anger in his eyes faded enough for instinct to kick in. Deciding not to respond, he sprinted toward the broken window and leaped into the Sumlin rain, dodging gunfire striking the marble behind him.

  Back at the bunker, silence reigned. Devin slumped on the floor, helmet off, his head resting against his gear locker. Blood seeped from a cut on his shoulder, and his right knee throbbed from the overworked exoskeleton.

  Wesley stood over him with his arms crossed, his face showing both disappointment and worry.

  Wesley spoke quietly. "You almost died for nothing. You didn't get Miller. You nearly let them take Anna. And you gave Jones more proof to call the Black Ghost a threat."

  Devin looked up, his eyes bloodshot and hollow. "She killed him, Wes. She hung him on a cross."

  "I know," Wesley said, kneeling down to meet Devin's gaze. "But if you become a monster to kill a monster, then Uncle James died for nothing. We finish this the right way, or not at all. Next time, I might not be able to pull you out."

  Devin closed his eyes, the file still clear in his mind. The urge for revenge remained, but recklessness was gone. In its place: something colder and more dangerous—a plan.

  "We do it right," Devin whispered. "But she won't walk away from this, Wes. Not this time."