Valkyrie had somehow managed to drag Brown out for a night of clubbing. Not only that, but their best friend—the one man who strictly avoided the flashing lights and suffocating noise of the nightlife—was actually joining them. Who else could it be but Travis?
"Hey, RV, are you seriously tagging along?" Valkyrie asked as Travis threw on his tailored coat. Valkyrie always called him RV, a lingering habit and a nickname he'd coined back when they were still drilling together in the Eagles Detachment. "I thought you absolutely loathed strobe lights and noisy crowds."
Brown rolled his eyes at Valkyrie's dense nature, stepping into the room while adjusting a sleek Bluetooth earpiece—their secure lifeline for the night's operations. "Why shouldn't he come out? Travis needs to let loose and enjoy himself once in a while."
It was true that Travis normally detested chaotic, neon-drenched environments, but tonight, a strange urge had pulled at him. He felt a pressing need to blow off some steam and, more importantly, to ensure he was physically there the exact moment his squad might need him.
"You don't need to worry about me. I'll be perfectly fine," Travis said calmly, walking past them and straight toward the garage to claim his car.
Brown and Valkyrie trailed closely behind to grab their own deployment vehicle.
"So, boss, are you planning to hit on a gorgeous lady tonight? Because I am officially volunteering to be your wingman!" Valkyrie offered with boundless enthusiasm, entirely oblivious to the lethal glare Brown was currently shooting into the back of his head.
Travis caught the murderous vibe vibrating off their beloved doctor and chuckled softly. "No thanks. And if I were you, I'd refrain from hitting on anyone tonight either—that is, if you plan on seeing the sun rise tomorrow morning."
Travis slid into the driver's seat and shut the door before Valkyrie could process the threat.
Left standing in the garage, Valkyrie's face contorted in utter confusion. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" he yelled, his voice crackling loudly through the synchronized Bluetooth network.
Just then, Savannah stepped into the garage, looking absolutely dazzling. She wore a striking, backless black dress that molded perfectly to her dangerous curves, paired with black silk gloves that clung to her hands like a second skin. Hidden seamlessly beneath the elegant fabric of her dress were a military-grade dagger and a compact handgun.
Hawk walked at her side, looking impeccably sharp in a midnight-black suit and a crisp bow tie. Like Savannah, his formal attire concealed a lethal arsenal: a tactical blade, a concealed firearm, and a high-voltage taser.
"Why are you still asking dumb questions? He meant exactly what he said. Do not hook up with anyone tonight," Savannah warned, throwing a sharp glare at Valkyrie before sliding into the front passenger seat of the black SUV Brown had just brought to life.
"Fine, fine. I will be on strict standby mode. No hooking up. Maybe I'll just play a little, or—"
"No playing either," Hawk cut him off flatly, throwing a brief, knowing glance toward Brown in the driver's seat.
Savannah tapped her earpiece, routing a encrypted line directly to Travis's vehicle. "We are officially en route. Make sure your comms stay wide open tonight, boss," she reminded him, earning a brief click of acknowledgment.
"Understood," Travis's firm, authoritative voice resonated clearly through their earpieces. "Make sure you all come back in one piece. If the tide turns and you find yourselves outnumbered, do not take unnecessary risks. I expect everyone back at the villa before 3:00 AM."
The underlying weight of his protective warning made Savannah sniffle quietly, fighting back a wave of sudden emotion.
"Yes, sir. We'll be home," the squad responded in flawless unison, completely locking into tactical mode for the incoming operation.
Their target for the evening was a newly ascendant underground player who had been aggressively trafficking illegal firearms across borders; the squad had been handed direct military orders to permanently eliminate him.
According to fresh intelligence and surveillance reports, the target was attending a high-society gala tonight. The luxury hotel hosting the event sat just a ten-minute walk away from the Aviary Bar. Coincidentally, the bar's exclusive second floor featured massive glass windows that offered an unobstructed, panoramic view directly into the hotel's grand ballroom—the absolute paradise for a sniper.
"I'll be hovering on standby inside the vehicle," Brown reminded the team as they approached the drop-off zone. "Keep the comms hot. If things go south, I want to hear about it the split second it happens."
This operation wasn't a solo venture; a full contingent of covert military personnel was stationed on the surrounding perimeter, ready to breach if things got messy.
Travis had arrived at the Aviary Bar well ahead of them. He had intentionally selected a dark, secluded corner table, nursing a drink while silently monitoring his squad's chatter over the wireless feed.
"Alright, team. Let's make our move," Savannah announced.
Brown pulled the black SUV up to the hotel's grand entrance, acting every bit the professional private chauffeur. Hawk stepped out first, offering his hand to Savannah and seamlessly linking his arm through hers to present the flawless illusion of an elite power couple.
At the grand ballroom threshold, a security detail stepped forward to check their credentials. Savannah flashed a devastatingly beautiful smile, handing over a gold-and-black embossed invitation card. The guard cross-referenced the name on his digital manifest before stepping aside with a polite nod.
Hawk remained perfectly silent at her side, but beneath his calm exterior, his eyes were moving like a machine, instantly memorizing the structural layout, camera blind spots, and primary escape routes.
"Don't worry, we're going home tonight," Savannah whispered, keeping her voice low beneath the roar of the crowd. "You've got my back, and I've got yours. We're a team, remember?"
The reminder brought a rare, genuine smile to Hawk's face.
They began circulating through the high-society crowd, effortlessly conversing with corporate executives and dropping casual details about current commercial developments under Travis's real estate firm. While the gala attendees were loosely acquainted with the criminal element they were hunting, the majority were legitimate tycoons, which was exactly why Savannah played the role of a corporate representative so beautifully.
A few minutes later, a heavy hush rippled through the grand hall as a man in his mid-forties sauntered through the double doors. He was flanked by a heavy security entourage, soaking in the sycophantic praises of the crowd with a look of pure, arrogant vanity.
"That's our guy, right? The one who supposedly struck gold overnight? He looks entirely too comfortable," Savannah murmured, her observation transmitting directly into the earpieces of her squad.
A businessman standing nearby, who had been pitching a commercial proposal to Hawk regarding a vacant lot in the Venus Industrial Park, let out a cynical, quiet scoff.
"Oh, look at him. The man of the hour with the long hair—Sudein Blaze," the businessman whispered sarcastically to them. "The media claims he made a fortune in mining operations, but anyone with a brain knows mining takes years to yield that kind of liquid capital. Personally, I don't care to make enemies with people like that. If you'll excuse me, I'm heading out." The man offered a brief wave and exited the hall, entirely ignoring the rest of the social climbers.
Savannah smiled elegantly, tilting her head up to meet Hawk's steady, protective gaze. "Isn't he admirable? I think Travis might actually enjoy doing legitimate business with a man like that."
Hawk reached over, gently smoothing a stray lock of her hair with a fondness that defied the dangerous environment. "You're pretty amazing yourself, Princess."
"Will you two please stop flaunting your romance in my ear? Not only do I have to listen to this, but I can see you perfectly through my lens!" Valkyrie complained loudly over the comms, his finger resting lightly on the trigger of his rifle as he scanned the ballroom floor through his high-powered sniper scope.
Hawk and Savannah simply shared a quiet, amused laugh. Savannah pulled out her phone, mimicking a woman casually checking the time, while her fingers flying across the screen to send a green-light confirmation to all perimeter military units.
Meanwhile, in the dimly lit, pulse-pounding atmosphere of the Aviary Bar just down the street, a new group of patrons slipped through the entrance.
Jillyanna and Cielo had grabbed a quiet dinner before embarking on a spontaneous bar-hopping excursion. But despite checking out several venues, neither had touched a drop of hard liquor; Cielo and Jillyanna had strictly stuck to fruit juices and light, low-alcohol beers.
"Yanna, I already texted Lucian to pick us up at 1:00 AM sharp," Cielo called out over the thumping bass, playfully tugging at her friend's wrist. "We still have plenty of time left, so let's hit the dance floor right now, okay?"
Without waiting for an answer, Cielo dragged her into the crowd, instantly losing herself to the heavy rhythm of the music. Her hands swayed above her head as she danced with free-spirited energy, while Jillyanna stood just on the edge of the floor, smiling and clapping along enthusiastically to cheer her on.
After a few songs, Jillyanna decided she wanted to grab a proper, heavy cocktail—something strong enough to give her a good buzz before Lucian arrived to take them home.
As her eyes scanned the crowded room for an open seat at the bar, her gaze suddenly locked onto a figure sitting in the dim shadows of a corner booth. Her smile instantly widened, turning predatory and bright.
"My eyes just found a prime target," Jillyanna whispered into Cielo's ear, causing her best friend's eyes to go completely wide with shock.
"Oh my god, Jillyanna! Do not do this!" Cielo hissed, grabbing her forearm in a tight grip. "I was totally joking earlier when I said I'd support a hookup!"
Jillyanna merely flashed her a devastating wink, gently breaking free from her hold. "I am completely serious about this one. See you in a bit."
Ignoring the lingering stares and attempts from several men trying to intercept her path, Jillyanna walked with absolute purpose toward the secluded corner.
Travis, who had been quietly analyzing his squad's tactical feeds, suddenly caught a whisper of a very familiar, intoxicating scent. He raised his head, his dark eyes tracking a breathtakingly gorgeous woman cutting straight through the crowd toward his table.
"It's you," Jillyanna greeted him smoothly, sliding into the booth and taking the empty seat right next to him without an ounce of hesitation.
Travis slowly arched a brow, a quiet, amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that the latest pickup line ladies are practicing these days?"
Jillyanna let out a soft, sultry laugh, lifting her glass to take a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. "What can I say? I liked what I saw the very first moment I laid eyes on you. I practiced that line as fast as I humanly could just for tonight."
Her voice was low, rich, and dripping with confidence. Travis found himself entirely captivated by her forwardness. He couldn't quite tell if she genuinely recognized him from their crossing paths earlier or if she was simply playing a dangerous game of seduction—but either way, he found himself thoroughly enjoying the view.