"What are we going to do now?" Bella asked then pulled out her phone. "We have to Inform Levi immediately, he will know what to do."

Lyse reached out and held Bella’s hand, stopping her from dialing the number. Bella looked at her in surprise and then her face hardened at the expression on Lyse’s face.

"You can’t be serious." Bella huffed.

"Bella is right." Ken reached a hand and placed on Lyse’s shoulder.

"There is no way that you can do this on your own, Ophelia has laid a trap, she will surely kill you and the child."

"Then let her kill me!" Lyse exclaimed angrily. "I could not bear it if anything happened to that little girl."

"Life would no longer be worth living if i remain alive after knowing that I did not do all I can to save her."

Ken sighed, the sound heavy with years of regret. He looked at Bella, then back at Lyse, and in his eyes, she saw the same stubborn resolve she felt churning in her own gut.

"Alright," he said, his voice low and firm. "Alright. But you’re not going alone. And we’re not walking into her trap blind."

Bella stared at him, aghast. "Ken, you can’t be serious. We have to call Levi."

"And tell him what?" Ken countered, his tone sharp. "That she’s walking into a trap? He’ll charge in there like a bull and get her, the girl, and probably himself killed. Ophelia is counting on that. We have to be smarter than that."

He pulled out his own phone. "I know a guy. Ex-military. He owes me a big one. He can get us some gear. Some eyes. And he knows those docks like the back of his hand."

While Ken made the call, pacing at the mouth of the alley, Bella wrapped her arms around Lyse.

"I don’t like this," she whispered, her chin trembling. "I don’t like this one bit."

"Me neither," Lyse admitted, leaning into the embrace. "But we don’t have a choice, and time is running out fast."

Lyse could not help thinking about Levi.

A tear leaked out of her eye as she glanced down at the ring Levi had placed on her finger mere weeks ago.

She had not even gotten a chance to enjoy the idea of getting back with Levi, now all her dreams were being squashed.

That was why she was determined to go in herself. She could not remain a bystander while things just happened to her.

Ophelia had to be stopped once and for all, even if it meant she died in the process. She had accepted that fact.

She just wished that she had more time with Levi, more time to love him.

Ken returned a few minutes later, his expression grimly determined.

"Okay. We have a plan. He’s meeting us with a car near the fish market, a ten-minute walk from here. We’ll get kitted out there. He’s also looping in a contact of his on the inside, a security guard at Pier 12. He’ll be our eyes."

He looked at both of them, his gaze hard. "This is not a game. We do exactly as he says. We move as a team. If one of us says pull back, we all pull back. No heroics."

He looked specifically at Lyse, and she met his gaze, nodding once. No heroics. Just survival.

The walk to the fish market was a blur of sensory overload—the stench of salt and fresh fish guts, the cacophony of shouting men and sqwaking gulls. A black SUV, identical to the one Lyse had fled from, was idling in a shadowed alley behind a row of shuttered stalls. The driver’s side door opened, and a mountain of a man got out. He was older, maybe fifty, with a face like a crumpled old newspaper and hands the size of hams.

"Ken," the man grunted, his voice a gravelly rumble.

"Jax. Thanks for coming." Ken turned to the women. "This is Lyse and Bella."

Jax’s eyes, pale grey and surprisingly sharp, assessed them in a single sweep. He grunted again, a non-committal sound, and opened the rear door. "Get in. No time to waste."

The inside of the SUV was a mobile armory. Rifles, handguns, tactical vests, and rows of ammunition were laid out on black felt.

Jax handed each of them a slim, black object. "Earpieces. Micro-transmitters. Linked to a private, encrypted channel. My contact inside is ’Echo.’ You hear anything he says, you listen. He’s got eyes on the main warehouse floor."

He looked at Bella. "You will be our comms. You stay in the car. You monitor the channel and the exterior cameras. You are our way out. You see anything you don’t like, you tell us. You don’t hesitate."

Bella’s face was pale, but her jaw was set. She nodded, taking the device.

Jax then turned to Lyse. "You’re the bait. You wear this." He held up what looked like a simple silver necklace, but a tiny, pulsing blue light flickered from its clasp. "GPS tracker. Heart rate monitor. If your pulse flatlines, we know you’re in trouble. You’ll also carry this." He passed her a small, compact pistol. "You know how to use one of these?"

Lyse took the cool, heavy metal in her hand, nodding. "My father made sure I learned." Ken had taken her to a shooting range every summer for years. For fun, he’d called it. Now, she understood.

He then passed a larger handgun to Ken. "You’re the overwatch. You hang back. You provide cover. You don’t engage unless you have to. Your job is to get Lyse in and get her and the girl out."

Finally, he pulled on a tactical vest himself, checking the straps. "I’m the breach. If things go south, I’m the one who kicks the door in."

A new voice crackled through the earpieces, tinny and tense. "Echo here. I’m in place. Security room on the west side. Ophelia is here. She’s on the catwalks above the main floor. She has the girl with her. She’s alone, but she looks wired. Pacing. There’s no sign of the other one, the enforcer."

"Copy that, Echo," Jax said. "Lyse is on her way in now. Keep me posted."

Jax looked at Lyse, his gaze surprisingly gentle. "You’re up, kid. Remember, she wants you to see her. She wants the drama. Walk in there like you own the place. Don’t show fear. Be your mother’s daughter."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Be your mother’s daughter. Maeve. The woman who had stood up to monsters and paid the ultimate price. Lyse straightened her shoulders, the fear in her blood crystallizing into a sharp, clear purpose.

She nodded, her expression hardening. She looked at Ken and Bella, a silent goodbye in her eyes. Then she turned and walked out of the alley, towards the hulking silhouette of Pier 12.

The doors to the Oceanic Imports warehouse were massive steel things, streaked with rust. One of them stood slightly ajar, a dark, inviting mouth. As she approached, the breeze blew her hair in her face and it swung open with a groan, as if welcoming her to her fate.

The inside of the warehouse was a cavern of shadows. Towering stacks of shipping containers formed a canyon, disappearing into the gloom above.