Silence followed the gunshot.

Everyone waited for Gideon to fall. He didn't. He stood there, the blood trickling down his cheek, looking bored.

The Davidson guards raised their rifles.

Then the first man coughed.

It was a wet, hacking sound. He dropped his rifle. It clattered loudly on the floor. He grabbed his throat, his eyes bulging.

Then the second man dropped to his knees. He was clawing at his tactical vest, gasping for air that wouldn't come.

Gasper stared down from the balcony. His elite squad was falling like dominoes. There was no blood. No wounds. Just instant, incapacitating weakness.

Gideon moved.

He wasn't looking at the guards. He sprinted to the stage.

Chelsea was trying to crawl away. Gideon grabbed her wrist and yanked her up.

"Open," he commanded.

She struggled. He squeezed her jaw. The pain forced her mouth open.

He dropped a small white pill onto her tongue. He clamped her mouth shut and stroked her throat. It was a reflex. She swallowed.

Chelsea gagged. She shoved him away, clawing at her mouth.

"What did you do?" she shrieked. "What is that?"

Gideon leaned in. His eyes were dark voids.

"Judas Kiss," he whispered. "It contains a protein marker. Inert for now. But if you betray the contract again, it binds to your nervous system. The pain will be... educational."

It was a lie. The pill was a harmless composite, but it contained a trace isotope that would show up as an anomaly on any standard scan, confusing any doctor she hired without actually harming her.

"If you ever try to break the contract again," Gideon said, his voice smooth as silk, "the toxin activates. You'll bleed out from every pore."

Chelsea collapsed. She was sobbing, hysterical, clutching her stomach.

Julian saw her fall. The rage overtook the pain in his ribs.

He raised the gun again. "I'll kill you!"

He fired blindly.

The bullet went wide. It hit the chain of the massive crystal chandelier above them.

The chain snapped.

Gravity took over. Two tons of crystal and steel plummeted.

It crashed between the Singleton shields and the Davidson guards. Shards of glass flew like shrapnel. Dust billowed up.

Gasper was coughing now. He held a handkerchief to his mouth.

"Gas!" Gasper wheezed. "Masks! Put on your masks!"

The Davidson guards who were still standing fumbled for their masks. Their movements were sluggish, uncoordinated.

Gideon walked back to Celestia. She was staring at him with horror. The gas hadn't reached her yet; the airflow was pushing it away from the door.

"You did this?" she whispered.

"Sedatives," Gideon said. "Short half-life. They'll wake up with a headache."

A deep, rhythmic thumping sound vibrated through the floor. It grew louder.

Helicopter rotors.

Bright, blinding searchlights cut through the tall windows, washing the ballroom in stark white light.

A voice boomed from a loudspeaker outside.

"THIS IS THE DEPARTMENT OF DEFENSE. DROP YOUR WEAPONS. THIS AREA IS UNDER MILITARY LOCKDOWN."

Gasper's face went gray. The police he could buy. The FBI he could stall. The military? That was a different beast.

Gideon looked at the window. He wiped the blood from his cheek.

"Finally," he muttered.

The windows shattered inward.

Ropes dropped. Men in black tactical gear rappelled into the ballroom. They moved with a fluidity that made the private security look like amateurs.

Within seconds, every armed man in the room was face down on the carpet, zip-tied.

The double doors opened again.

General Mullins walked in.

He was a mountain of a man in a dress uniform. Four stars on his shoulder. His face was a map of old scars.

Gasper Davidson stumbled down the stairs. He was sweating profusely, the effects of the gas making him wobble.

"General!" Gasper shouted. "Thank God. This terrorist attacked us! He used a biological weapon!"

Mullins stopped. He looked at Gasper.

"Silence," Mullins barked.

He walked past Gasper. He walked past the sobbing Chelsea. He walked straight to Gideon.

Gideon stood next to Celestia. He had his hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed.

Celestia stepped in front of him. Her voice was shaking, but her chin was up.

"General," she said. "He is my employee. He was acting in self-defense."

Mullins looked at her. Then he looked at Gideon.

His eyes fell on Gideon's left hand, specifically the ring on his ring finger. It was a simple band of black iron. But etched into the metal was a tiny symbol. A wolf's head with three eyes. The Shura.

Mullins's eyes widened. His spine snapped straight, the muscles in his neck cording with sudden tension. His right hand twitched upward, a reflex honed by decades of service, beginning to form a salute.

Gideon locked eyes with him. He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.

Mullins froze. He caught the motion mid-air. He awkwardly turned the salute into a gesture of smoothing his lapel, clearing his throat loudly to cover the lapse.

He turned to Gasper.

"Who fired the first shot?" Mullins asked.

"It was him!" Gasper pointed at Gideon.

"Ballistics will tell us," Mullins said coldly. "But I see automatic rifles on your men, Mr. Davidson. Those are illegal in a civilian zone."

Gasper sputtered. "General, I am a donor to your-"

"You are a suspect," Mullins cut him off. He stepped into Gasper's personal space. "If you say one more word, I will have you arrested for domestic terrorism."

The room went dead silent.

Mullins turned back to Gideon. His voice changed. It was softer, respectful.

"Sir, we need to take you in for questioning."

"Of course," Gideon said. "I have nothing to hide."

Julian was being loaded onto a stretcher. He lifted his head.

"He poisoned her!" Julian screamed. "He fed her poison!"

Mullins looked at Gideon.

"Vitamin C," Gideon said. "She looked pale."

Mullins didn't smile, but his eyes crinkled.

"Clear the room," Mullins ordered. "Seize all footage. No one speaks to the press."

The conference room on the second floor of the Plaza was quiet.

Mullins closed the door. He locked it.

He turned around and snapped a salute so sharp it vibrated.

"Young Warlord," Mullins said.

"Don't call me that," Gideon said. He sat down heavily in a chair. "I'm retired."

"We thought you died with your father," Mullins said. His voice was thick with emotion. "The unit... we mourned you."

"I'm hunting," Gideon said. "The people who killed him are still out there. Today was just the bait."

There was a banging on the door.

"Let them in," Gideon said. "Time for the show."

Mullins opened the door. Marcus, Gasper, Celestia, and a phalanx of lawyers spilled in.

"This is an outrage!" Marcus yelled. He slammed a briefcase on the table. "That man is a criminal!"

Gideon reached into his coat. He pulled out a folded piece of paper. He slid it across the table.

"Read it," Gideon said.

Marcus grabbed it. It was a copy of the original pact.

"Erich House saved your father's life," Gideon said. "In exchange, he got 10% of Grimes Industries or a marriage alliance. You chose the alliance."

"That was fifty years ago!" Marcus shouted. "House is dead!"

"Contract law doesn't expire with a heartbeat," Mullins said. He glanced at the paper. "The heir inherits the claim. It's valid."

Gasper slammed his fist on the table.

"He killed my man!" Gasper yelled. "One of my guards is dead! The one he cut!"

Gideon looked at Gasper.

"He bled out?" Gideon asked. "Shame. He should have applied a tourniquet."

"Murder!" Gasper pointed a shaking finger. "You are going to prison."

Mullins picked up a tablet. He tapped the screen.

"Actually," Mullins said. "The deceased has been identified as Gregor Vanko. An Interpol Red Notice fugitive. Wanted for war crimes in Serbia."

Gasper's jaw dropped. "What?"

"By neutralizing him, Mr. Combs actually performed a public service," Mullins said. "And since Vanko drew a hidden blade first-as seen on security footage-it was self-defense."

Gasper turned purple. "You're rigging this!"

Mullins leaned forward.

"Are you accusing the Department of Defense of corruption, Mr. Davidson?"

Gasper choked. He looked at his lawyers. They shook their heads. You couldn't fight the military.

"Fine," Gasper hissed. He looked at Celestia. "You chose your side, girl. Singleton Global depends on Davidson microchips. As of now, that supply chain is cut."

Celestia paled, but she didn't look down.

"We'll find other suppliers," she said.

"Good luck," Gasper sneered.

He stormed out. Marcus followed, shooting Gideon a look of pure venom.

The room emptied until only Gideon, Celestia, and Mullins remained.

Celestia looked at Gideon. She looked at the General.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why is a General protecting a bodyguard?"

Gideon stood up.

"I'm your partner," he said.

Mullins stepped in. "Miss Singleton, Mr. Combs is... a national asset. His safety is paramount. We trust you to keep his location discreet."

Celestia nodded slowly. She thought he meant Gideon was a scientist, like his mentor.

"Let's go," Gideon said. "Take me to your home."