Chapter 996
“We have to go,” Skye said. “If we can’t catch Gemma, we can cut off her supply line.”
“Skye, you’re not dressed for a gala,” Julian pointed out, gesturing at her tactical gear.
“I’m not going as a guest,” Skye said. “I’m going as the main event.”
Two hours later, the Crystal Gardens hummed with socialites whispering behind their champagne flutes. On the screen above the stage, Gemma was tearfully thanking attendees for their bravery in supporting her cause.
Skye came through the service entrance, flanked by Alistair. She had changed into a simple, severe white suit she kept in the car for emergencies.
She didn’t take the stage. She took the projection booth.
“Parker, now,” Skye commanded into her earpiece.
On the giant screen, the foundation logo flickered and died. In its place, a spreadsheet materialized — a forensic accounting trail laid out in damning columns.
The crowd gasped. The spreadsheet traced the flow of donations directly into accounts flagged by Interpol for arms trafficking.
“She’s funding a war!” Skye’s voice boomed across the PA system. She stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom. “Gemma Sterling is a front for illegal arms trade. Every dollar you gave tonight bought a bullet!”
𝘘𝗎𝖺𝗹𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝗍𝗋𝘢n𝘀la𝘁𝗂𝗼𝗇𝗌 on 𝗀𝖺l𝗇𝗈𝗏𝘦𝘭𝘴.𝗰𝗼𝗆
On screen, Gemma’s projection froze, then dissolved into static.
In the ballroom, the real danger was just beginning.
The fire alarm erupted. The sprinklers followed, unleashing a torrent of cold water across the crowd. Women in gowns stumbled over chairs. Men shoved toward the exits. Within seconds, the room had collapsed into chaos.
Through the spray and confusion, Skye caught movement in the shadows of the mezzanine. Three men dressed as waiters, moving with the precise economy of soldiers — not toward the exits, but converging on a VIP booth near the stage, a booth ringed by heavy private security.
Skye squinted through the water. “Wait. She’s actually here.”
Sitting in the booth, terrified and surrounded by bodyguards, was Gemma. The secure location broadcast had been a decoy to deter threats, but she had attended in person, hidden behind a wall of muscle, unable to resist the pull of the crowd’s adoration. Now her cover was gone.
“They’re scrubbing the asset,” Alistair said into Skye’s ear, gripping her arm. “The Administrator knows she’s burned. He sent a cleanup crew.”
“No.” Skye pointed. “They’re going to kill her.”
Gemma sat frozen, sobbing, clutching the table. The waiters were drawing suppressors from beneath their trays. The bodyguards were already down, dropped by precise shots that had been swallowed by the alarm.
“Let them,” Alistair said, his voice cold. “She’s an enemy.”
“If she dies, the link to the Administrator dies with her!” Skye snapped. “And she becomes a martyr!”
Across the room, she spotted Liam — he must have followed them. He was directing people toward the fire escape, his back to the mezzanine. He hadn’t seen the assassins.
“Liam!” Skye screamed. “Gemma! Three o’clock!”
Liam turned. He saw the gun.
.