Seven Targets Novels & Stories

Outside the safehouse, a shadow lingered in the alley across the street, eyes fixed on Serena’s window as the light inside flickered off. He raised a communicator to his lips. “Target has read the letter. Project Harbinger is compromised.” A pause. “Initiate Phase Seven.”

He did not trust me after seven years together. The clock on the wall struck three. It was the last day of my bet with Bailey. It was also the date that Jeremy had planned to propose to me.

Benjamin had also shot up in height and was starting to look like a teenager. They said they started this foundation because of me and Margot. They had done things that hurt me, and they said they would be happy if this could make up for even a little of it. Margot’s eyes widened. “Mom, it’s that man and that boy again! But why is my name on TV?” I gently pinched her cheek and said, “Because they did something wrong, and they want us to forgive them. Do you want to forgive them?” Margot said firmly, “No.

Nevio's POV War is cleanest at the moment of ignition. Before screams, before blood smell thickens the air, before survivors start making choices they can't undo. Right now it is still math. Three targets. Three strike teams. Three simultaneous collapses of what remained of Hale's trade. I stood over the operations table while coordinates, satellite pulls, and route overlays glowed across the glass surface. Aurora leaned opposite me, palms braced on the edge, eyes moving across the three red-marked sites with predatory focus. Cannery. Trucking depot. Rail yard.

“Tomorrow will be our revenge day. You may kill the ones who are on the list, but you also can injure those who weren’t. Make sure that they would not lose any of their limbs, though.” The air amongst them became heavy. “Our ultimate goal is twins. But, whoever meets them, please run away. Why?” Eagle cracked his knuckles. “Those bitches are our targets.” Our targets. All of them understood who was ‘our’. It was for someone who was on the podium. The Hyenas and also to that The Unknown members. “Roger!”

They moved past our hiding spot, close enough that I could smell gun oil and coffee. "Target last seen in sector seven," one said into his radio. "Female, early twenties, accompanied by an injured male. Requesting permission to neutralize the male." My heart stopped. Neutralize. That was such a clean word for murder. The static crackled. Then a voice responded, cold and professional. "Negative. Bring them both alive if possible. The male's bloodline may also be valuable." They wanted Dalton too. Whatever this breeding program was, we were both prizes to be collected. The mercenaries passed, continuing their grid search deeper into the forest.

Seriously I just wanted some rest and shopping sprees. Either way I'm resuming on Monday and that bitch better get ready. "Hello black Thunder" Hello miss Cecile" "I need your help dealing with a little bitch" "interesting" "I'll text you the details. Do you wanna help or not" "I'm not really into bitches " "name your price" "700 000" "deal". The next day Ellie's pov **********

Eight different agendas wearing the same direction. "He'll use the advantage gap like a scalpel," Elder Mira said. Seventy-two years old. Sharp as the day she was born. "Targeted pressure, not open conflict. He wants you destabilized, not defeated." "Agreed." I marked the map. "He has at least five viable strike points based on our current patrols. The eastern supply route, the southern garrison, the secondary gate communication line—" "The secondary gate is my concern." Kayden's voice came from behind my left shoulder.

My chest heaves, and my control begins to waver. Sebastian shrugs, giving me a smug smile. “What do you think I mean? Think about it, Argent. You work for a company that dealt with shutting down Terrorist cells, and your wife and daughter are conveniently killed. Someone killed them because of what we do. It was because you were so dead set on finding those men who bombed that embassy. You killed them!”

Numb and transparent, much like the growing apathetic gloss to amethyst orbs. The denim stepped back, a glint of metal piercing through the dense landscape as Damon tried to scramble backwards, his tiny fists raw and bleeding as they hovered over his face in an act of self-defense. Silver lashes folding downward to mask his fear as laughter rang in his ears. "...Just as I thought..." Leaves crunched all around him, and the black ankle boots Damon adorned on occasion drew to his shivering body in haste. Why was he so numb? Why did everyone hate him? He peeked out from beneath his lashes to trail his gaze over the twisted grins hidden beneath the fog, cerulean eyes, smoldering brown, children'