Chapter 148: First Blood

Forty-eight hours later, Anya had returned the favor.

The location had been a Syndicate safe house in Queens. An unmarked brownstone where three of Kozar's specialists had been bunkered.

The same three specialists who'd planted the bombs.

Viktor had led the team. Six soldiers. Ten minutes in. Ten minutes out.

Anya had watched from the Brooklyn command post. Multiple feeds from body cams. Audio from encrypted comms.

"Breach in progress," Viktor's voice crackled.

The video feed cut to a door. A flash of movement. Then mayhem.

Gunfire. Yelling. The three specialists were trained but they were few. Outgunned. Outnumbered.

Three minutes. All three targets eliminated.

"Clear," Viktor reported. "Package in custody."

"Package" was the bomb maker. Still alive. Barely. They'd need him for interrogation. Important information.

"Extraction," Anya said. "Get out."

The team was gone in eight minutes total. No civilian casualties. No police response.

Clean.

"Transport him to the safehouse," she said. "I'll be there in twenty."

Twenty minutes later, she was inside. The bomb maker zip-tied to a chair. His name was Sergei Volkov. Irina's sister had an ex-wife with a brother-in-law. The ways were many.

"Mr. Volkov." Anya sat across from him. "You blew up three of my buildings."

He spat blood. "Go to hell."

"Eventually. But not today." Anya leaned forward. "You're going to tell me everything. Who hired you. Where the explosives came from. What other targets the Syndicate is planning."

"I'm not telling you shit."

"Yes. You are." Anya nodded to Viktor.

It wasn't a pretty process. But it was effective.

Thirty minutes later, they had names. Locations. A network of Syndicate operations from the Bronx to Staten Island.

"Impressive reach," Anya said, digesting the information. "Kozar's been planning this for months."

"Since before Giorgi," Viktor agreed. "They've been going to war with us for a long time. Giorgi was just the advance scout."

"So we've been at war longer than we thought." Anya made notes on the map. "We've got a list of targets. How many of these can we strike at once?"

"Six. Maybe eight if we're willing to draw resources from elsewhere." Viktor went over tactical plans. "But to hit that many at once we spread ourselves too thin. If the Syndicate counter-attacks while we're busy—"

"They won't. They don't know we have this yet." Anya tapped the map. "We strike fast. Tonight. While they still think one of their specialists is holed up at a safehouse in Queens."

"Coordinated strike?"

"Coordinated strike. Each team gets one target. In and out. No heroics." Anya looked at him. "Can you organize that?"

"In four hours. Maybe less." Viktor started making calls.

Anya turned back to the bomb maker.

"You just gave us everything we need to gut Kozar's operations in New York. How do you feel about that?"

He glared at her. "They'll kill me for this."

"They won't get the chance." Anya stood. "You're going to spend the rest of your life in a very dark hole. But at least you'll be alive. Which is more than your friends are."

She left him there. Left for the command post to coordinate the strikes.

Eight targets. Eight teams. All at once.

This was the real war. Not bombs in the night. But organized destruction of the Syndicate's infrastructure.

The strike went live at 2 AM.

Anya watched from multiple feeds. Eight operations at once.

A Syndicate weapons cache in the Bronx. Cleared. Three guards eliminated.

A money laundering operation in Manhattan. Raided. 2 million in cash seized. No casualties.

A Syndicate meeting house in Staten Island. Team took casualties. Two Syndicate soldiers eliminated. One coalition soldier wounded but stable.

A shipping front at the docks. The hardest target. Had heavy security. Team pulled back rather than escalate.

"Smart call," Anya said into the comm. "Regroup and wait for backup."

Five minutes later, Roman's team arrived as reinforcements. They hit the shipping operation from two sides.

The dock guards never had a chance.

By 4 AM, seven of the eight targets had been secured.

The haul was substantial. Weapons. Cash. Documents. Equipment.

And prisoners. Twelve Syndicate soldiers in custody.

"Separate locations," Anya ordered. "Interrogate individually. I want everything they know."

The sun rose on a wounded Syndicate operation.

Kozar called at 8 AM.

"You've been busy," he said. Ice in his voice.

"Just returning the favor." Anya took a sip of coffee. "You hit three of my buildings. I hit seven of yours. I'd say we're even."

"Even." Kozar laughed. "You think this is even? I have resources you can't imagine."

"And I have something you don't."

"What?"

"Home field advantage." Anya set down her coffee. "You're fighting in my city. Against people who know every street."

"That won't save you."

"It already has." Anya's voice grew hard. "You've been here a month. No territory. No operations. Just losses."

Silence on the line.

"That's what I thought." Anya stood. "You can't win this, Kozar. You're fighting the wrong war."

"There's only one kind of war."

"No. The war you want and the war you get." Anya looked at the city. "You wanted a clean takeover. Instead you got coalition. United resistance."

"This isn't over."

"I know. But every day it continues, you lose more than me. You lose money. Soldiers. Credibility with your masters." Anya turned away from the window. "How long before they pull you out? Send someone else? Someone they trust to finish what you couldn't?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Anya smiled. "I've done my homework. The Syndicate doesn't tolerate failure. And you're failing. Publicly. Expensively."

The line went dead.

Anya set down the phone.

Viktor walked in.

"That was harsh."

"That was necessary." Anya sat down. "Kozar needs to know we're not intimidated. We can't be bought. We can't be worn down."

"So what can he do?"

"Escalate. Which is exactly what I want him to do." Anya pulled up intel reports. "The more he escalates, the more attention he draws. Federal attention. The Syndicate operates in the shadows. Escalation brings the light."

"You're trying to make this a war we can't hide from."

"Exactly. Force the Syndicate to choose between New York and exposure." Anya looked at him. "They'll choose to cut their losses. Pull Kozar. Retreat."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we keep bleeding them until they do." Anya's eyes were hard. "However long it takes."

Viktor nodded slowly.

"We lost twelve buildings in the last week. Four soldiers dead. Twenty wounded."

"I know."

"Can we sustain that?"

"Can they?" Anya met his eyes. "That's the real question. We're the defenders. They're the invaders. History favors the defenders."

"Not always."

"Often enough." Anya stood. "Get some rest. Tonight we hit them again."

"Where?"

"Everywhere."

Viktor left.