The mansion's garage had been transformed into a staging area.
Eleven PM. The witching hour.
Ryan stood among forty armed men, all dressed in black tactical gear, their faces set with grim determination. Weapons were being checked one final time, slides racking, magazines clicking into place, the metallic symphony of preparation for war.
Matt moved through the group, doing final equipment inspections, Kane coordinated communications, his radio crackling with position reports from scouts already watching Jasper's headquarters.
This was it. Twenty years of waiting and planning, all coming down to tonight.
Ryan's hands were steady as he checked his Glock 19, he felt Ray stirring beneath his consciousness, eager and ready, but this time, Ryan wasn't afraid of him. This time, they were working together.
"All teams ready," Kane reported, approaching Ryan. "Scouts confirm Jasper is inside, approximately sixty guards on site, heavy security at all entrances."
