Chapter 167 Friday

Chapter 167 Friday
Cade was awake before the sun, already dressed, checking his gun with the same careful precision he'd used every morning that week, except today his hands moved slightly faster.

Lyra watched him from the bed, saying nothing until he finished. "Come here," she said.

He crossed the room and sat beside her, and she cupped his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her fully. "You come back to me," she said. "That's the only thing that matters today."

"I will."

"Say it like you mean it, not like you're saying it to make me feel better."

Cade held her gaze. "I will come back to you. I promise."

She kissed him, memorizing the feel of it the way she had every quiet moment since the deadline first landed on them weeks ago. When he pulled back, his eyes were dark and steady.

"Stay here today," he said. "Dante's orders and mine."

"I know."

"I mean it, Lyra."

"I know," she said again, softer. "I'm not fighting you on this one."

He nodded, some tension easing slightly, and stood, pulling his jacket on. At the door he stopped and looked back at her one more time, like he was storing the image up against whatever the day held, then he was gone.

Renzo met Cade and Dante at the south fence just as the sun cleared the horizon, the morning cold enough that their breath showed in the air. His shoulder was wrapped tight under his jacket, movement still stiff, but he carried himself like a man ready for whatever came.

"Positions confirmed," he said. "East and west flanks covered, north's the weak point same as always."

"Then north's where I'll be," Cade said.

"Figured you'd say that." Renzo checked his own weapon, wincing slightly at the movement of his shoulder. "Lina brought extra coffee this morning. Said it was for everyone, but she made sure I got mine first."

"Focus," Dante said, though there was the faintest thread of something warm underneath the word.

They spread out across the fence line as the morning stretched on, tension building with every passing hour of silence. Nothing moved on the access road and the warehouse sat quiet in the distance, giving away nothing.

"Maybe he's not coming," one of the younger members said near noon, hopeful in a way that made Renzo shake his head.

"He's coming," Renzo said. "Just waiting for us to get complacent."

He was right. It started just past two in the afternoon, the exact window they'd watched for days, the sedan appearing on the access road followed by two more vehicles Cade hadn't seen before.

"Multiple vehicles," Renzo's voice came sharp through the radio. "North approach, moving fast."

Cade's pulse spiked, every sense sharpening at once. "How many."

"Three cars, could be more behind them."

Dante's voice cut in, steady despite the tension. "Everyone hold position, nobody engages until they cross the fence line."

The vehicles reached the boundary and stopped short of it, doors opening, figures emerging, more than Cade had expected, moving with the kind of coordination that told him this wasn't improvised.

"That's Garza," Renzo said, his voice tight. "Front car, stepping out now."

Cade watched through his scope from his position at the north corner, confirming it. Garza stood tall, unhurried, surveying the fence line like a man who already believed the land belonged to him.

"He's not hiding," Cade said into the radio. "He wants us to see him."

"Let him see us too," Dante said. "Hold. Don't fire first."

The standoff stretched, both sides visible to each other now across the fence, nobody moving, the afternoon air thick with the kind of silence that comes right before something breaks.

Garza's voice carried across the distance, amplified by something, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"This was always going to happen," he called out. "The filing was just paperwork, this is how it actually gets decided."

"Hold," Dante repeated over the radio, steady even now.

Garza raised a hand, and Cade's whole body tensed, waiting for the signal that would break everything open.

The first shot came from Garza's side, not aimed at anyone, just into the air, a declaration more than an attack.

Cade moved on instinct, dropping low behind cover as return positions activated across the fence line, radio chatter exploding into overlapping voices, the calm of minutes earlier shattering completely.

"East flank engaged," someone called.

"Hold the north," Dante's voice cut through, somehow steady even now. "Don't let them push through the weak point."

Cade fired only when he had to, aiming to disable rather than kill wherever possible, the training of years taking over even as his heart pounded loud enough to drown out everything except the radio and the immediate threat in front of him.

A figure broke from Garza's line, running low toward the north fence exactly where Cade was positioned. Cade tracked him, fired once, watched the man drop with a cry that told him the shot had landed in the leg, not fatal, but enough to stop him.

"North holding," he called into the radio.

"Copy," Renzo's voice came back, strained. "West's getting pushed. I need support."

Cade glanced toward the west flank, torn between holding his position and moving to help, when Dante's voice cut through again.

"I've got west. Cade, hold north. Renzo, fall back to secondary position, you're exposed."

"I'm fine," Renzo said, but Cade heard the strain in it, heard something that told him the shoulder wasn't holding up the way Renzo wanted it to.

"Fall back," Dante repeated, harder now. "That's an order, not a suggestion."



The fighting stretched for what felt like far longer than the actual minutes it lasted, chaotic and loud, the careful strategy of the morning dissolving into the immediate reality of bodies moving and weapons firing and radios crackling with updates too fast to fully process.

Cade held the north position, watching two more attempts to push through fail against the reinforced fence line, the preparation of the past four days finally paying off in ways that mattered.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it began to break. "They're pulling back," someone called. "West side's retreating."

Cade watched through his scope as Garza's people started falling back toward their vehicles, the assault losing momentum as casualties mounted on their side without matching success.

"Hold positions," Dante ordered. "Let them retreat. Don't chase."

Garza himself was the last to move, standing his ground a moment longer than his men, staring across the fence line at where Dante stood visible now, having stepped forward from cover.

"This isn't over," Garza called, before finally turning toward his car.

"It is for today," Dante called back.

The vehicles pulled away down the access road, the same route they'd watched for days, retreating now with far less confidence than they'd arrived with.

The fence line went quiet in the aftermath, everyone checking themselves and each other for damage, the adrenaline slowly draining into exhaustion.

Cade found Renzo near the west position, sitting against a fence post, breathing hard, one hand pressed hard against his shoulder, blood seeping through the wrap he'd insisted was fine that morning.

"You're hit," Cade said, crouching beside him.

"Same shoulder," Renzo said through gritted teeth. "Reopened whatever the doctor was holding together yesterday and it feels worse than the original."

"That's not good."

"No," Renzo admitted, wincing as Cade helped ease him upright. "But we held that's what matters."

"Yeah." Cade agreed, relief flooding through him despite the exhaustion.

Dante approached, checking each of them over with the same careful attention he'd given the map weeks earlier. "Casualties on our side?"

"A few injuries, nothing fatal," someone called back. "Garza's side took worse."

Dante nodded slowly, some of the tension in his shoulders easing. "Get everyone patched up. We'll debrief properly tomorrow."

Cade helped Renzo toward the medical area, the adrenaline finally fading enough that exhaustion took over completely, his whole body aching in ways he hadn't noticed during the fight itself.

His phone buzzed. Lyra.

Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay.

He typed back with unsteady hands. I'm okay. It's over. I'm coming home. Renzo's hurt but stable, shoulder again.

The reply came instantly. I love you, come home. Tell Lina about Renzo, she'll want to be there.

Cade looked at the words for a long moment, then he put the phone away and helped Renzo the rest of the way to the medical tent, already thinking about the drive home.