Chapter 8 Shot

• Sarah's blood was still warm on Alexander's hands when he made the call that would reshape three continents.
• He knelt beside her unconscious form in the warehouse rubble, her pulse thread and irregular beneath his fingers.
• The Phoenix sniper's bullet had caught her in the shoulder…meant to wound, not kill. A message. They wanted her alive for leverage.
• The irony wasn't lost on him. She'd betrayed him to Phoenix, and now Phoenix had shot her anyway.
• "Marcus!" Alexander's voice carried across the smoke-filled warehouse. "Your people just put a bullet in an unarmed woman. That the Phoenix training standard now?"
• Marcus Steel emerged from behind an overturned table, assault rifle trained on Alexander's position.
• "She served her purpose. Got us your location, confirmed your operational capacity. Phoenix doesn't keep broken tools."
• Elena's voice crackled through Alexander's earpiece. "Ghost, I count twelve hostiles down, eight still active. We need to move before backup arrives."
• But Alexander wasn't moving. He stared down at Sarah's pale face, at the woman who'd chosen his enemies over him, and felt something cold settle in his chest.
• Not rage….rage was hot and messy.
• This was calculation. Strategy.
• Sarah had made her choice based on incomplete information. Phoenix had fed her Alexander Kane's war crimes but left out the context, the missions that had prevented genocide, the villages they'd saved by burning others.
• She'd been played. Just like he had, just like Jake, just like every operator who'd ever trusted that their government cared about anything beyond political expedience.
• Alexander pulled out his secure phone and dialed a number he hadn't used in four years.
• "Prometheus Command."
• The voice on the other end was crisp, professional, carrying the weight of vast resources and zero accountability.
• Alexander had hoped never to hear it again.
• "This is Ghost Six. Activation code Omega-Seven-Seven-Delta."
• A pause. "Ghost Six is deceased. Confirm identity."
• Alexander looked around the warehouse at the bodies of Phoenix operatives, at Elena and her team maintaining defensive positions, at Sarah bleeding on the concrete floor.
• "Damascus, October fifteenth. Operation Broken Arrow. Target was a chemical weapons facility, but intelligence was compromised. We walked into an ambush with Syrian forces and Russian contractors. I called in danger-close artillery strikes on my own position rather than let the chemical weapons fall into enemy hands."
• Another pause, longer this time.
• "Identity confirmed. Ghost Six, you've been dark for three years. What's your status?"
• "Fully operational. Requesting immediate activation of all Ghost Protocol assets."
• "All assets?" The voice carried a hint of surprise. "Ghost Six, that's five hundred operatives across forty-seven countries. The political ramifications alone—"
• "Phoenix Syndicate is active," Alexander interrupted. "They've been operating under corporate cover for years, manipulating conflicts and selling weapons to all sides.
• They just tried to kill a civilian to get to me."
• The line went quiet. Alexander could hear keyboards clicking, databases being accessed, threat assessments being run in real-time.
• "Ghost Six, stand by for verification."
• While he waited, Alexander watched Sarah's breathing. Shallow but steady. The bullet had missed major arteries, but she needed medical attention soon.
• Marcus was still advancing, using the conversation as cover to get closer.
• Professional mistake. He thought Alexander was distracted.
• "Prometheus Command to Ghost Six. Phoenix Syndicate is confirmed active. Intelligence suggests they've been operating autonomously for eighteen months, no longer under any government oversight."
• "Authorization?"
• "You have full operational authority. All assets, all resources. Phoenix is now classified as a rogue terrorist organization."
• Alexander felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders. The burden of command, of lives that would be lost because of decisions he was about to make.
• "Copy, Prometheus. Ghost Six assuming operational command."
• He ended the call and immediately began dialing another number.
• Marcus chose that moment to make his move, sprinting across the open space between their positions.
• Fast, tactical, exactly what Alexander would have taught him three years ago.
• Alexander didn't even look up from his phone.
• Elena's sniper rifle barked once. Marcus went down hard, his assault rifle clattering across the concrete.
• "Thought you'd forgotten about overwatch," Elena said through the earpiece.
• "Never," Alexander replied, stepping over Marcus's body. Still alive, but not going anywhere with a shattered kneecap.
• The phone connected.
• "Rodriguez."
• "Marcus, it's Ghost Six. How fast can you get to New York?"
• "Already en route. Heard about the safe house. ETA four hours."
• "Change of plans. I need you to mobilize everyone. Full deployment, every asset we have."
• Marcus Rodriguez had been Alexander's right hand for six years, had followed him through three wars and a dozen conflicts that never made the news. He didn't question orders.
• "Everyone? Alex, that's…"
• "I know what it is. Do it anyway."
• Alexander ended the call and dialed the next number. Then the next. London, Singapore, Moscow, Dubai.
• Every major city where Ghost Squadron had left assets, friends, people who owed Alexander Kane favors that could never be repaid.
• By the time he finished, the warehouse had fallen silent.
• Elena and her team had eliminated the remaining Phoenix operatives, secured the perimeter, called for medical evacuation.
• But Alexander wasn't thinking about tactical victories anymore.
• "Ma'am," Elena said quietly, "what did you just do?"
• Alexander looked at his phone, at the secure military-grade device that connected him to the deadliest network of operators ever assembled.
• Men and women who'd followed him into hell and would do it again without question.
• "I woke up the monster," he said.
• His phone buzzed with confirmations.
• Singapore: twelve operators mobilizing.
• London: eighteen assets activated. Moscow: former Spetsnaz contractors dropping current contracts to answer Ghost Six's call.
• Sarah stirred beside him, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment she looked confused, disoriented.
• Then memory returned and her face hardened.
• "David?" Her voice was weak but steady.
• "Alexander," he corrected gently. "David Miller died tonight. You made sure of that."
• Sarah tried to sit up, winced at the pain in her shoulder. "The Phoenix people... they said they were government agents. They said you were a terrorist."
• "They lied."
• "Did they?" Sarah's eyes found his, searching for something she'd lost. "The files they showed me, the classified documents. Those missions in Damascus, Kandahar. Were those lies too?"
• Alexander knelt beside her, careful not to touch the wound. "No. Those were real."
• "Then you are what they said you are. A killer."
• "Yes."
• The simple acknowledgment seemed to hit Sarah harder than any justification would have.
• She'd been expecting denials, explanations, the kind of defensive responses that would let her maintain her moral certainty.
• "Those people you killed," she said quietly. "Did they have families?"
• "Some of them."
• "Children?"
• Alexander's throat felt tight. "Yes."
• Sarah closed her eyes. "I can't... I can't be married to someone who kills children."
• "The children were already dead," Alexander said. "Chemical weapons don't discriminate by age. The families I killed were manufacturing nerve agents for terrorist groups. The villages I burned were staging areas for mass genocide."
• "But you still killed them."
• "Yes."
• Sarah opened her eyes, and Alexander saw the moment she made peace with her decision.
• The moment she chose moral purity over complexity, certainty over the messy gray areas where Alexander lived.
• "I want a divorce," she said.
• Alexander nodded. He'd been expecting it since the moment she'd walked out of Jonathan Blake's office.
• "Sarah, there's something you need to understand. Phoenix shot you tonight. Not by accident, not because you got in the way. Because you were no longer useful to them."
• "What do you mean?"
• "I mean they used you to find me, and now they're going to kill you to hurt me. The tracking device in your shoulder isn't just for location. It's a message. They can find you anywhere, anytime."
• Sarah's face went pale. "You're lying."
• Alexander showed her his phone, pulled up the GPS tracking display Jonathan had shown him hours earlier. The signal was still active, still broadcasting from somewhere inside her body.
• "They turned you into bait," he said. "And now you're stuck being bait for the rest of your life. Unless..."
• "Unless what?"
• Alexander stood, his decision made. "Unless I kill every Phoenix operative on the planet."
• Sarah stared at him like he'd suggested burning down the world. Which, in a way, he had.
• "You're talking about war," she said.
• "No. I'm talking about extermination."
• His secure phone buzzed with another confirmation. Tokyo: six operators standing by. Tel Aviv: former Mossad contractors activated. The network was responding faster than he'd expected.
• "Alexander," Sarah said, and for the first time since the warehouse, her voice carried fear. Not of him, but of what he was about to unleash. "You can't do this. You can't just decide to kill hundreds of people."
• "Phoenix decided that when they shot you."
• "I chose to work with them! I betrayed you! This is my fault!"
• Alexander looked down at his wife…soon to be ex-wife…lying wounded on a warehouse floor because she'd believed she was doing the right thing.
• "No," he said. "This is mine."
• His phone rang. Jake Morrison's number.
• "Jake."
• "Alex, I'm ten minutes out. What's your status?"
• "Sarah's been shot. Phoenix has gone active worldwide. I've mobilized everyone."
• "Everyone? Jesus, Alex, that's a lot of firepower to put in motion."
• "Not enough," Alexander said, watching Sarah's face as she processed what he'd just said. "Jake, I need you to do something for me."
• "Name it."
• Alexander looked at Sarah one last time, memorizing her face. After tonight, she'd never look at him without seeing a monster.
• But she'd be alive to make that choice.
• "I need you to find Sarah's father," he said. "Richard Morrison. Bring him to me alive."