POV: Hunter
"Get back!" Hunter barked at Tessa, his voice leaving no room for argument.
He strode to the coffee table, snatched up Morgan's sleek laptop, and lifted it high over his head.
"What are you doing?!" Morgan shrieked, leaping from the couch.
Hunter ignored her. He brought the laptop down on the corner of her granite-topped coffee table with all his strength. The plastic casing exploded with a sickening crunch. He did it again. And again, until the device was a twisted mess of metal and shattered screen.
"Hunter, stop!" Tessa yelled, horrified.
He didn't stop. He moved to the kitchen counter, grabbing Morgan's smartphone. He ripped it from its charger, yanked open the sliding door to the small patio, and hurled the phone like a fastball into the concrete wall of the neighboring building. It shattered into a dozen pieces.
"My data! My life is on those!" Morgan wailed, collapsing back onto the couch.
"Your life is what almost got us killed last night!" Hunter roared, turning on her, the fury and fear finally breaking through his control. "They weren't here to scare me, Morgan! They were here to execute me! And you gave them the keys!" He loomed over her. "Is there anything else? A tablet? A backup drive? THINK!"
Terrified, she pointed a trembling finger at a small decorative box on a bookshelf. "A-a USB drive. With photos…"
Hunter smashed the box, retrieving a small blue thumb drive. He snapped it in half between his fingers.
The room was silent except for Morgan's ragged sobs. Tessa stared at him as if she'd never seen him before. The kind, steady man she'd married was gone, replaced by this terrifying, efficient instrument of destruction.
His own phone buzzed again.
<< Good. Sterilize yourself next. Your personal phone. Ditch it. Use burner only. They may have tagged you at the house. >>
She was right. If they were this sophisticated, they could have planted tracking software on any device in his home during the breach. His phone, his laptop, Tessa's tablet. All compromised.
He pulled out his personal smartphone. It held pictures of him and Alex. Of his wedding. His last link to a normal life. Without a word, he dropped it to the tile floor and stomped on it with his boot heel, grinding it to pieces.
Tessa gasped. "Hunter… what is happening? Who are you texting?"
He couldn't answer her. Not truthfully. He looked at the two crying women one a traitor, one a victim and felt the canyon between them and him widen into an abyss. He was in the operational darkness now. They were still in the light.
"Pack a bag for your mother, Tessa. Essentials only. You're both leaving. Now."
"Going where?" Tessa asked, bewildered.
"Somewhere safe. A hotel. Not the one we were at. Pay in cash. Don't use your credit cards. Don't contact anyone." He fished his wallet out, took all the cash he had—about three hundred dollars and shoved it into her hand. "Take this. Listen to me. The men last night worked for a very powerful, very dangerous company. They used your mother to get to me. They might try to use you two to get to me again. You need to disappear until I tell you it's safe."
He was giving her a version of the truth, enough to scare her into compliance. The maternal instinct to protect her mother overrode her confusion. She nodded numbly and began throwing clothes into a suitcase for Morgan.
Hunter pulled Morgan to her feet. Her eyes were wide with animal fear. "If you contact Julian Sterling, or anyone from his company, if you so much as whisper my name, I will know. And I will leave you to them. Do you understand?"
She nodded, mute with terror.
Fifteen minutes later, he loaded them into Tessa's car. He gave Tessa a quick, hard kiss. It felt like a goodbye. "Drive. Don't stop. I'll find you when it's over."
He watched her taillights disappear around the corner, a profound loneliness settling in his bones. He was alone. Cut off from his wife, his home, his old life.
He walked back into Morgan's silent, trashed condo. From the wreckage of her laptop, he carefully removed the internal hard drive. He pocketed the shattered pieces of the phones and the USB drive. He would dispose of them far away.
Then, he pulled the new burner phone from his pocket. The one Riley had provided. He sent his first text.
>> Assets secured and isolated. Primary source (M) confirmed Julian Sterling as point of contact. Her devices sterilized. I am clean. What's the next objective?
The reply was instantaneous.
<< The objective is Julian Sterling. We turn the predator into the prey. Meet me. Coordinates following. Welcome to the war, Hunter. >>
A map location pinged onto his screen. An abandoned industrial park on the outskirts of the city. A perfect place for planning an ambush.
Hunter took one last look around the ruined condo. This was the point of no return. By walking out that door to meet Riley, he was leaving the law, his marriage, and his old self behind.
He was no longer Hunter the husband, the homeowner, the victim.
He was a weapon, and someone had just pointed him at a target.
He turned off the light and stepped into the gathering dusk, closing the door softly on the last remnants of his ordinary life.
Hunter, now fully committed to Riley's off-the-books war, leaves to rendezvous with her, having severed all ties to his old life and embraced his new role as a hunter of those who targeted him.