The city lights flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across the rooftop where Ochieng stood. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the railing, his mind racing. Victoria had been taken. Walter had made his move.
Jeff leaned against the wall, his face bruised but determined. "We need a plan."
"No," Ochieng growled, turning to face him. "We need to send a message."
Lucy stepped forward, her voice cold. "I tapped into Walter's communications. He's holding Victoria at the abandoned hotel on Glowtune Street. Heavy security. No easy way in."
Ochieng exhaled sharply. "Then we make our own way in."
---
A black SUV rolled to a stop a block away from the hotel. The team moved in silence—Jeff, Paul, Gideon, and Bruno—each armed and ready.
Inside, Walter lounged in a leather chair, swirling a glass of whiskey. Victoria was bound to a chair, her eyes sharp despite the bruises on her cheek.
"You think Ochieng won't come for me?" she smirked.
Walter chuckled. "Oh, I'm counting on it."
Then the power cut out.
A second later, gunfire erupted.
Ochieng moved like a shadow through the chaos, taking down guards with ruthless precision. Jeff covered his flank, while Gideon cleared the hallway.
They reached Victoria just as Walter grabbed her by the hair, pressing a knife to her throat.
"Step any closer, and she dies."
Ochieng's voice was ice. "Then you die right after."
A tense silence filled the room.
Then, in a blur of movement, Victoria bit down on Walter's wrist. He cursed, the knife slipping—just long enough for Ochieng to strike.
A single shot rang out.
Walter staggered back, clutching his chest. "This… isn't over."
Ochieng holstered his gun. "Yes, it is."
Victoria stumbled into his arms as Walter crumpled to the floor.
But as sirens wailed in the distance, Ochieng knew this was just the beginning.