Chapter 74 *
Scarlett's POV
I used that. Stayed mobile. Didn't let him pin me down.
He lunged. I dodged.
He swung. I ducked.
Back and forth. A deadly dance.
Then his boot caught my ribs.
I flew backward. Hit the wall. Air knocked out of my lungs.
Got up. Tasted blood.
He was coming again.
I grabbed a microscope off the desk. Threw it at his face.
He blocked it with his forearm. Didn't even slow down.
Grabbed my throat. Slammed me against the wall.
His knife came up. Aimed at my stomach.
I twisted. The blade grazed my side.
Warm wetness spread across my abdomen.
Not from the knife.
Something else.
Oh no.
That familiar cramping. The heavy, dragging sensation low in my pelvis.
I'd felt it before. In Yemen. After I got shot in the hip.
Internal bleeding.
My hand went to my stomach. Came away red.
The baby.
The leader saw it too. His eyes flicked down.
Smiled.
"Guess that kick did some damage."
He adjusted his grip. Knife pointing at my belly now.
"This'll be quick."
I couldn't move like before. Every sharp motion sent pain through my abdomen.
Had to protect it. Had to keep the baby safe.
I shifted my stance. More defensive. Less aggressive.
He noticed immediately.
"There it is." His grin widened. "The weakness."
He came at me harder. Every strike aimed low.
Stomach. Hips. Lower back.
I blocked. Dodged. But I couldn't counter.
Couldn't risk the baby.
He drove me backward. Step by step.
My back hit the desk. Nowhere left to go.
His elbow came up. Caught my shoulder.
I felt something tear. Sharp, blinding pain.
Then his knife was there. Driving into my shoulder.
I screamed.
He twisted the blade. Pulled it out.
Blood sprayed across his chest.
I kicked him. Hard as I could.
He stumbled backward. Hit a filing cabinet.
But he was already coming back.
I tried to move. My legs wouldn't cooperate.
Too much blood loss. Too much pain.
He grabbed me. Threw me against the wall.
My head bounced off concrete. Stars exploded across my vision.
His hand closed around my throat.
Squeezed.
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
My hands clawed at his grip. Useless.
He leaned in close. His breath hot on my face.
"Hand-to-hand? You're not in my league."
Then his other hand came up.
Elbow strike. Right to my stomach.
The pain was instant. Overwhelming.
Something inside me shifted. Wrong. All wrong.
Warm liquid ran down my legs. Too much. Too fast.
That's my baby.
The thought hit me like a physical blow.
The only baby I'll ever have.
The genetic counselors had been clear. My condition. The mutations.
This pregnancy was a miracle. A one-in-a-million chance.
If I lost this baby...
There would never be another.
Something snapped inside me. A switch flipping. A door opening.
The part of me I'd locked away.
Sable.
Heat crawled up from the soles of my feet. Through my legs. My spine. My chest.
Spreading like wildfire.
My vision sharpened. Colors became more vivid. Sounds crystallized.
The leader was still talking. Saying something.
I didn't hear it.
All I could hear was my own heartbeat. Steady. Calm.
All I could feel was rage.
Pure. Focused. Lethal.
If this baby dies...
I'll burn your entire organization to the ground. Every single member. Every safe house. Every contact.
And whoever hired you?
I'll make them beg for death.
The leader must've seen something in my face. His expression changed.
Uncertainty flickered in his eyes.
Too late.
My hand moved. Calm. Deliberate.
Pressed the hidden clasp on my watch.
The metal band separated. Came apart in my fingers.
Revealed what was hidden inside.
Fifty feet of braided steel wire. Thinner than dental floss. Stronger than aircraft cable.
My signature.
The leader's eyes went wide.
"Wait—"
I pulled.
The wire came free. Caught the light for just a second.
Then it was around his throat.
His hands flew up. Clawing at his neck.
Too late.
I crossed my wrists. Applied pressure.
The wire bit into his skin. Drew blood.
"People in your line of work..." My voice came out flat. Dead. "They call me Sable."
His eyes bulged. Recognition. Horror.
He knew the stories.
Everyone in his world knew the stories.
Sable. The ghost. The one who killed without a trace.
Victims found with barely a mark. Just a thin red line around their necks.
No one had ever seen the weapon.
Until now.
I pulled tighter. The wire cut deeper.
He thrashed. Tried to throw me off.
His elbow caught my ribs. My shoulder. My face.
I tasted blood. Felt something crack.
Didn't matter.
I held on.
"Now you know why they call me Sable." I leaned in close. Whispered in his ear. "I specialize in ambushes."
His movements got weaker. More desperate.
Face turning purple. Then gray.
His knees buckled.
I rode him down. Kept the pressure steady.
He tried to speak. Couldn't.
Just a wet gurgling sound.
His hands clawed at the wire. Tore his own skin trying to get purchase.
Nothing worked.
I kept pulling. Watched the light fade from his eyes.
He kicked once. Twice.
Then stopped.
I held on for another thirty seconds. Making sure.
Never leave a job unfinished.
Never leave loose ends.
Finally, I let go.
The wire released. Sprang back into my palm.
He collapsed. Face-down on the floor.
I stood up. Swayed.
Walked over to where his knife had fallen.
Picked it up.
Rolled him over with my foot.
He was dead. I could see that.
But I'd learned a long time ago. Dead isn't always dead enough.
I knelt down. Positioned the blade over his heart.
Drove it in. Deep.
Twisted.
Made sure.
Once you're on Sable's list, there's no coming back.
No second chances.
No miraculous recoveries.
Just death.
I pulled the knife out. Let it clatter to the floor.
I tried to stand. My legs gave out. Hit the floor hard.
The adrenaline was wearing off. The pain rushing back in.
I heard glass crunch under boots.