CHAPTER 35: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

I was up before dawn, and the sunrise was stunning—vivid streaks of pink, orange, yellow, and red melting into the crisp blue sky. After checking the monitors which were still fully charged, I called my mates to run through today’s plan, which was as dull as usual: more watching and recording.

Once we hung up, I reviewed last night’s footage, tracking the guards’ movements. Same routine as always—12-hour shifts, rotating every three hours. The inside guys swap with the outside ones, two at the front, one on each other side. Most overlap during rotation, but a few slack off—those gaps would be my way in after dark.

At one point, a woman matching Moulsa’s description stepped out to a car with bodyguards. I noted the time. Two hours later, Urk and his crew left. Both returned by 5 p.m.

The next two days were identical. I spotted plenty of daytime openings—times when Urk and Moulsa were out—where I could slip inside and wait for Moulsa to leave before making my move.

When my phone rang, I grabbed it without looking. “Hello.”

“Max, how’s the assignment coming?” John’s voice caught me off guard—he never checks in.

“Uh, working another case while I wait for a callback. Should hear back soon,” I lied.

“Better hurry. Contract goes from closed to open tomorrow,” he reminded me.

“Yeah, I know. Any chance you can push it back two days?” I asked, though I didn’t actually need it. Something about this call felt wrong.

“I’ll see what I can do,” John said before hanging up.

I powered off my phone and yanked the battery. The call lasted under 15 seconds, but with the phone dead, they couldn’t trace it further. Thankful I’d gotten a phone on my mate’s plan, I figured I could ditch the work line for good once I was out.

I dial Zane, and he answers immediately. "Mi alma, we’re all here—the General and Captain included."

“I’ll be ready to strike in two hours. Moulsa leaves in an hour, and there’s a two-hour window before Urk follows. If I hit the house an hour after Moulsa’s gone, that gives me sixty minutes to eliminate everyone before going after Urk. Right before I breach, I’ll activate my sensors near the house to handle the exterior guards first.” It seems solid—until a realization hits me.

“Actually, hold off until I give the signal to breach.” A pause stretches as I reconsider. “If we attack simultaneously, someone might call Valentine or Urk, scrambling reinforcements. That could ruin everything. If they leave the house and spot bodies—or the absence of them—they’ll lock everything down. No, wait for me to clear Urk’s place first, then I’ll call you in.”

Jason cuts in, “You don’t think someone inside will warn the facility?”

“Not if I hide the bodies as I go. When the camera loops end and switch back to live feeds, nothing will seem off to surveillance. If I time it right, I’ll call you 30-45 minutes after my breach.”

Zane considers it. “Makes sense. We’ll stick to your plan and wait.”

Relief washes over me—Zane trusts me, though I suspect that won’t always be true. Maybe he’s humoring me because it’s my mission.

“Okay, I’ll call once Moulsa’s clear. That’ll give you time to mobilize. Did anyone scout for cameras?” I don’t want the facility spotting us because we missed a hidden lens.

Zane confirms, “Several along the drive. We’ll use a four-wheeler to disable them discreetly. Two vehicles will ride side by side to shorten the convoy.”

“Smart move. Stay sharp—call me if anything goes wrong. After Urk’s down, I’ll summon the coven. If I need to bail, I will. Against witches, I’m only good for non-magical backup.”

My mates and pack come first. Alexis will get it. We linger on logistics before hanging up.

Hmm. Could I just snipe her and be done?

Cece chimes in, “That’d be easiest, but with witches? Doubtful.”

But what if it works? I counter. She wouldn’t expect a bullet if she’s not on guard. Should we ask Alexis to try sniping before sending them in?

“Worth a shot. Bring it up when they arrive,” Cece muses.

What’s on your mind? I ask.

“Well, can they even block bullets without anticipating them? If her guard’s down, a clean hit might solve everything,” Cece ventures, hopeful.

Let’s find out, I reply, reaching for my phone.

"Mi alma, did you miss me already?" Luke replies.

“Always.” I exhale. “But listen—I had an idea, and it got Cece thinking. What if we used a sniper to take out Moulsa? When she gets home, the grounds are usually clear, so her guard might be down. A clean headshot could do it. Then the coven could confirm the kill. What do you think?”

Of all my mates, Dean and Luke are the scholars—Luke especially. He travels to study cultures, their histories. Witches are secretive, but records exist—wars, lost covens. After our talk with Deek about the dark witch, he’d been digging through old texts.

“I’m not sure,” he muses. “I’ll research defensive spells against bullets. But like you said, we might get lucky if she’s unprepared. Better to act and apologize later, right?” He chuckles. “You want to keep this between us?”

“For now, yes.” I shift gears. “Are you set for my call, or are you still there?”

“Team’s almost in position, then they’ll hold for your signal. I stayed back to assist if needed. Just say the word when you breach—I’ll head over. Hopefully, you’re done by the time I arrive.”

“Perfect. Wait—” Binoculars in hand, I spot Moulsa exiting the front door, right on schedule. “She’s leaving. I’ll move in after 45 minutes. Leave at 5:45. See you then.” I hang up and prep.

Knives. Extra holsters. Arrowheads tightened, blades strapped. I draw my swords, hone them for thirty minutes—steady strokes to quiet my nerves.

When the timer buzzes, I breathe deep. Meditate. Thoughts dissolve. Only calm remains. No fear, no doubt. Reality fades.

Minutes pass. My eyes open filled with cold emptiness.

I feel nothing.

I’m ready.