She Joked That Everyone Forgot Her Birthday

The rain began to fall in heavy, freezing sheets, mixing with the smoke that hung thick over Pier 44. We advanced through the shipping container yard in a tight, lethal formation—Nicholas and Julian taking point, Victoria providing technical overwatch, Arthur anchoring our rear, and me moving between them, my sidearm ready.

The Consortium mercenaries were organized, but they were fighting on Sterling territory. Every stack of rusted steel, every blind corner, every crane track was etched into Nicholas’s memory.

"Suppressing fire on the left flank!" Nicholas commanded as a hail of automatic fire tore through a stack of wooden crates ahead, sending splinters flying like shrapnel.

Julian stepped out, firing three rapid, rhythmic shots that took down two gunmen attempting to flank us around a yellow cargo container.

"Elena! Victoria! Move to the tower base!" Nicholas ordered, laying down a blistering volley of rifle fire to cover our advance across the open tarmac.

Victoria and I sprinted through the mud and standing water, sliding behind the reinforced concrete footings of the crane tower just as heavy machine-gun fire stitched the ground where we had stood a heartbeat before.

"They've got a heavy caliber mounted on the second-story catwalk!" Victoria shouted over the deafening clatter of gunfire. "We can't get up the exterior stairs!"

From behind us, a booming roar answered.

Arthur Sterling stepped out into the open rain, utterly fearless, his trench coat billowing in the wind. He fired three rapid rounds from his heavy shotgun into the support cables holding a hanging steel cargo beam directly above the gun nest.

With a terrifying screech of shearing steel, the four-ton beam snapped free, crashing down through the catwalk. The machine-gun nest, the weapon, and the two mercenaries collapsed into the mud below in a violent tangle of twisted metal.

"Old age hasn't slowed down your aim, old man!" Julian laughed, advancing through the smoke.

"Old age just makes me less patient," Arthur grunted, reloading with brutal efficiency. "Elena, get up those stairs and trip those breakers! Nicholas, watch the gantry!"

We fought our way up the spiral steel staircase of the crane tower, step by bloody step. The air was thick with the scent of ozone and burning plastic. Mercenaries attempted to hold the narrow landings, but Nicholas moved with a cold, terrifying ferocity, clearing rooms with ruthless precision to keep the path clear for me.

We reached the third floor—the high-voltage substation.

The steel door was blasted off its hinges. Inside, standing before the humming, massive green transformer banks, stood Vance. He was heavily armored, clutching a combat rifle, a sneer twisting his scarred face as he saw us enter.

"The Sovereign and his little stray," Vance mocked, raising his rifle. "Vivienne was right about you, Nicholas. You threw away an empire for a sentimental nobody."

Before Nicholas could raise his weapon, Vance pulled the trigger.

Nicholas lunged in front of me, taking the impact of the round directly in his tactical vest. The force knocked him backward against the steel console, his breath escaping in a violent gasp.

"Nicholas!" I screamed.

Vance shifted his aim toward Nicholas’s head.

He never got the chance.

I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. The weeks of training, the months of surviving the harbor's brutal underworld, surged through my veins. I raised my Kimber, stepped forward, and fired three rounds into Vance’s chest before he could depress his trigger.

Vance stumbled backward into the humming electrical transformer, sparks erupting across his armor before he collapsed limp to the grated floor.

I dropped to my knees beside Nicholas, tearing at his vest. "Nicholas! Look at me! Look at me!"

Nicholas coughed, spitting a trace of blood, but his dark eyes snapped open, locking onto mine. He caught my hand—the hand still bearing the deadly transponder ring.

"I'm fine... vest took the plate..." he wheezed, sitting up with a grimace. He looked at Vance's body, then up at me, a mixture of awe and profound devotion in his eyes. "Remind me never to make you angry, Elena."

"We aren't done yet," I said, my voice trembling with adrenaline as I pulled him to his feet.

Across the room, the primary breaker levers glowed bright orange under the emergency lighting. Outside the window, the two Consortium corvettes were turning their heavy guns directly toward Pier 44, preparing to level the entire complex.

"Together," Nicholas said, putting his blood-stained hand over mine on the master breaker handle.

"Together," I replied.