Chapter 5 - The Face from the Past
The tactical light swept across the ruined library, catching the drifting dust motes and the fallen operators sprawled across the Persian rug.
The lead operator lowered his rifle slightly, blinking against the glare, staring at the woman standing in the doorway.
“Stand down,” she ordered, her voice cutting through the smoky room with the cold, absolute authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed without question.
She stepped further into the light. Tall, wearing a tailored federal trench coat over a dark tactical suit, her sharp cheekbones and piercing blue eyes were unmistakable even beneath the flickering shadows.
Special Agent Evelyn Vance. Federal Bureau of Investigation, Organized Crime Division.
The woman who had built her entire career trying to put Damon Reyes behind bars—and the woman who had walked out of his life six years ago without a single word of explanation.
Damon slowly lowered his rifle, stepping out from behind the shattered mahogany desk, his eyes locked onto hers across the ruined room.
“Evelyn,” Damon said, his voice dangerously low, stripped of all surprise, leaving only a cold, hard edge. “You’ve developed terrible manners when entering a private residence.”
Evelyn didn't smile. She kept her shotgun leveled at the center of the room, though her eyes flicked quickly over Damon to ensure he wasn't bleeding.
“Save the charm, Damon,” Evelyn said sharply. “You think a tactical team from the Delgato family broke into your house tonight? Look at their patches.”
Damon’s gaze shifted down to the sleeve of the unconscious operator groaning near the bookcase. There was no Delgato scorpion crest. Instead, stitched onto the black tactical fabric was an emblem he recognized instantly—the Department of Justice Strike Force insignia.
A cold shock ran down his spine.
“They aren't hit squads,” Evelyn continued, stepping over a pile of broken glass. “They’re a corrupt federal asset squad operating under an unauthorized warrant. And they didn't come here to kill you, Damon.”
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She stopped three feet away from him, her expression grim.
“They came here because someone inside your own syndicate uploaded the entire federal indictment database to your private server an hour ago—framing you for crimes the Delgatos committed thirty years ago. And right now, a federal tactical team with orders to shoot on sight is five minutes away from your front gate.”
