Harrington paced the length of his office, his footsteps echoing off the polished hardwood floor. The screens lining the walls displayed redacted messages, data logs, and fragments of information. Each flashing notification brought bad news: another asset compromised, another piece of his empire crumbling.

  He paused by the desk, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the decrypted file sent by one of his analysts. The Horsemen had struck the Dehloran hub, leaving nothing but bodies and ashes. Worse, they had extracted the contingency file—a file Harrington had built as his final safeguard.

  “Idiots,” he muttered, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. “How did they even access it?”

  He knew the Horsemen’s reputation, their unmatched skill, but this was beyond even his calculations. They were tearing through his operations with precision, unraveling years of work in a matter of days. And Marcus—always Marcus—was at the center of it.

  The secure phone on his desk buzzed. Harrington snatched it up, his voice sharp. “Report.”

  “They’ve decrypted part of the contingency file,” the analyst on the other end said, his voice tense. “We’re tracking the leak, but it’s clear they have operational data on Tier-One hubs. If they move quickly—”

  “They will,” Harrington interrupted. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to think clearly. “Shut down all Tier-One locations immediately. I want assets redeployed to Tier-Two hubs. We’re burning everything that isn’t essential.”

  “Understood.”

  “And Daniels?” Harrington asked, referring to the financier Amir had named.

  “Still unaccounted for.”

  Harrington’s lips pressed into a thin line. Logan Daniels was weak—useful but expendable. If the Horsemen reached him, they would use him to dig deeper. Harrington couldn’t allow that.

  “Find him,” Harrington ordered. “And silence him.”

  The call ended, leaving Harrington in the deafening quiet of his office. He stared at the screens again, his mind racing. The Horsemen were relentless, but they were still human. They had to have a weakness. He just needed to find it before they found him.

  ---

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  The Horsemen regrouped in a safe house tucked away in the rugged hills outside Dehloran. The air inside was heavy with the scent of dust and sweat, the dim glow of laptops and screens casting long shadows on the walls.

  Famine was hunched over a terminal, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he sifted through the decrypted data. Conquest stood by the window, his rifle resting casually against his shoulder as he kept an eye on the perimeter. War and Marcus sat at the table, their expressions grim.

  “This isn’t just a network,” Famine said, his voice cutting through the silence. “It’s a goddamn hydra. Every time we take out one node, three more pop up.”

  “Focus,” War said sharply. “What do we have on Harrington?”

  Famine exhaled, scrolling through the files. “Locations for two Tier-One hubs in Europe—Vienna and Zurich. Central America’s another story. The data’s fragmented, but it’s enough to suggest a hub near San Salvador.”

  “What about Harrington himself?” Marcus asked, his voice cold.

  Famine shook his head. “Nothing concrete. He’s a ghost. No fixed location, no direct communications. He’s using intermediaries and burner accounts to stay ahead of us.”

  Marcus leaned forward, his gaze burning. “Then we hit the hubs. Force him to show his hand.”

  Conquest turned from the window, his voice measured. “That’s a lot of ground to cover. If we hit them all at once, we’re spreading ourselves thin.”

  War nodded. “Then we prioritize. Zurich’s the largest, likely his financial backbone. Vienna’s communications. San Salvador? It’s logistics. We hit Zurich first, cut off the money.”

  Famine smirked faintly. “Always about the money.”

  Marcus’s voice was a low growl. “We’re not just cutting off the money. We’re sending a message. Harrington’s not untouchable.”

  ---

  Kessler leaned back in his chair, the quiet hum of his secure office a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding on his screens. The intel from Dehloran had landed in his lap hours ago, and his analysts were already working to exploit it.

  One of his aides entered the room, holding a tablet. “We’ve confirmed Harrington’s Tier-One hubs. Zurich and Vienna are operational, but Central America’s hub is already in the process of being relocated.”

  “Typical Harrington,” Kessler muttered, taking the tablet. “He’s burning the edges to protect the center.”

  The aide hesitated. “Do you think the Horsemen can hit all three?”

  Kessler looked up, his gaze sharp. “They don’t need to. Harrington’s greatest strength is his network, but it’s also his vulnerability. He relies on layers of separation to stay hidden. Take out the right nodes, and the entire thing collapses.”

  He studied the map on the tablet, his mind already working through the possibilities. Harrington was on the defensive now, reacting instead of planning. It was the perfect time to press the advantage.

  “Leak the Zurich hub’s location to local intelligence,” Kessler said finally. “Make it look like an anonymous tip. That’ll keep Harrington guessing.”

  “And Vienna?” the aide asked.

  “Nothing yet,” Kessler replied. “We let the Horsemen handle it. They’ll know what to do.”

  The aide nodded and left, leaving Kessler alone with his thoughts. He tapped a finger against the edge of the desk, his gaze distant. This wasn’t just about Marcus or the Horsemen anymore. It was about dismantling something far bigger—a system that had operated in the shadows for too long.

  Kessler’s voice was quiet but firm. “Your move, Harrington.”