Page 21 of Controlled Drift
Keanu closed the distance on the first man before he could turn, one arm locking around his throat, blade flashing once at the base of the skull.The body sagged bonelessly, caught and lowered so it never hit the deck hard enough to sound.
To Niko’s left, Luca drove forward with brutal precision—an elbow to the sternum to steal breath, a knee that buckled the man’s leg, followed by a short, vicious strike that dropped him face-first into the planks.The crack of bone was soft, ugly.
Niko took the third himself.
The man saw him half a second too late.Niko slammed into him shoulder-first, carried him backward into the railing, and drove the hilt of his knife up under the rib cage.The resistance was brief.Warm.Final.He held the man upright until the struggle left him, then eased him down.
Another body hit the ground behind him—someone grunting once before going still.Suppressed gunfire coughed twice, close and contained, ending the last threat before it could fully form.
One man reached for his weapon.
Victor crossed the distance in two strides and broke his wrist with a sharp twist, disarming him before driving him to the ground.A knee to the throat ended it.Clean.
Five men down.
No shouting.No warning shots.Just breath, impact, and silence reclaiming the space.
Niko stood over the last one for half a second longer than necessary, chest tight.
Don't let us be too late, he thought.Please God, don't let it be too late.
“South team closing,” Luca warned.
“Split,” Niko ordered.“I’m going inside.Breaker, Torch on me.The rest of you head to the south side of the house.”
Luca and Keanu ran onto the desk and approached the door with him, angling for the house.Tane, Victor, Kael, and Drew peeled off, moving fast and wide to intercept the incoming threat.
Niko vaulted the deck railing and landed hard, pain flaring sharp at his side.He ignored it again.The sliding doors were unlocked.
That worried him more than if they’d been forced.
Inside, the house was all clean lines and controlled space.Concrete floors.Steel beams.Furniture chosen for function, not comfort.The walls held aviation photographs—aircraft in impossible attitudes, frozen moments of mastery.
Ethan lived here.
The thought hit harder than expected.
“Clear,” Keanu whispered from the far hall.
Niko moved deeper, heart hammering.Every shadow felt charged.Every sound carried weight.He didn’t know what he was hoping to find—Ethan standing alive and furious, or signs that they’d already been too late.
Outside, gunfire cracked.
Short bursts.Controlled.Victor and Tane doing what they did best.
Niko forced himself to keep moving.
Whoever was coming for Ethan wasn’t subtle.They weren’t hiding anymore.That meant either desperation—or confidence.
Both were bad.
He reached the staircase and paused, listening.Nothing.No movement.No voices.Just the distant sound of conflict bleeding through the walls.
“First floor cleared,” Luca murmured.
Niko nodded, jaw tight.
He already knew Ethan wasn’t on the first floor.
