Her Obsession (by Sheridan Hartin) novel Chapter 103

Her Obsession.

Let’s Get Bloody.

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Pa’s face hardened. “There’s a flaw,” he said. “If we choke him at that bridge, he’ll improvise. He’ll send decoys, scouts, even drones. We don’t have anti–air here. Our lads could get pinned on a road and be picked off from the sky. And there’s a town nearby, civilians get hurt, and then the authorities come down on us before we even start.”

Ari stepped forward from the doorway. She was calm and to the point.

“If you’re worried about drones and decoys,” she said, “don’t hit the bridge first. Hit the handlers and the eyes.” She swallowed hard. “Marek Petrov. He runs the relay at the eastern node outside the town. Small crew. Drinks alone. He does rounds alone on Thursday mornings because his boys are at the brewery. He feeds live footage to the drones when Yakov runs convoys. Cut Marek, the feed dies. Yakov can’t call in air assets if he can’t see the convoy.”

Pa looked straight at her. “You know this because?”

“I flagged the feeds,” Ari said flatly. “I moved channels and named them. Marek trusted me enough to let me watch the outposts. I kept notes.” She met Pa’s eyes. “Take Marek out, even for a short time, and the bridge is harmless on paper. He can’t direct drones if he has no eyes.”

I turned to Ari because the room had gone quiet, and whatever small mercy she was offering mattered. “You’re helping?” I asked, blunt as

ever.

She let out a slow sigh, the kind that sounded like weighing options. For a second, I thought she might fold, walk back to whatever corner of herself she preferred. Then Matteo nudged her, just enough, no words, an elbow, a look and something in her shifted.

Ari gave a half smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes but was real enough. “Well,” she said, voice low, almost tired, “I’m on his shit list now anyway. May as well help take him out so my friends and I can live a normal life, right?”

Friends.

The word hit me like a hand to the face. Ari, calling us friends. I felt my mouth go dry for the stupidest, smallest reason: she thought of us that way. It was…unexpected. Promising. Strange.

I let the thought sit, tasting it. Friends. Ari considers us friends. Interesting.

Conner cut through the tight silence with a grin that would’ve been dangerous anywhere else. “Alright,” he said, voice bright. “Looks like we’ve got an ambush to plan. Anyone else keen for a little bloodshed?”

Naomi didn’t hesitate. “Fuck yes!” she barked, chest heaving with a grin that promised she meant it.

Liam laughed, the sound easy, and leaned into the banter. I surprised myself, and probably everyone else, when I let the same edge come out of my mouth. “I could go for a little murder,” I said flatly.

That got Pa. He let out a deep, unexpected laugh that shook the maps on the desk. It was the kind of sound that meant approval and trouble both. The others loosened, the tension easing a fraction as the room found its sharp, dangerous humour again.

Conner’s smile turned serious in an instant. “Good. We’ll want people hungry for it.” He jabbed a finger at the map. “Details, teams, timing, withdrawal routes. No one dies because we get cocky.”

We organised teams right there in Pa’s office. Conner would lead the strike on the convoy once the feed went dark; Naomi and Liam would prep and run the rookies, set perimeter and holding positions; Nico would be our electronics man, ready to jam and blackout

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12:02 Tue, Oct 21

Let’s Get Bloody.

whatever feeds he could the moment we pulled the trigger. Ari, Matteo, and I would conduct a dusk reconnaissance of Marek’s nnde, walking the actual approach, noting doors, guards, routines, and the locations of cameras and power lines. Pa stayed the overall commander; he wanted verification before any move.

Logistics had to be quiet. We’d fly in staggered pairs on different tickets, meet at a safehouse out of town, and move in small groups. Gear would be hidden in normal luggage, while jammers and comm bits would be taken apart and carried as harmless pieces. Mien would assemble what he needed once we were clear of airport eyes. We’d do recon at dusk to confirm routines, and the strike on Marek would be at dawn during the brewery shift change, when he would likely do rounds alone. The moment Marek was down and the relay was blind, Conner’s team would intercept the convoy at the bottleneck. The goal wasn’t fireworks or a spectacle; it was capture or reroute, and only destruction if absolutely necessary. We’d pull back in small, staggered groups once the job was done.

Pa’s rules were as crucial as our moves: no big displays that drew drone attention, no standing on exposed roads, and civilian safety first. If drones appeared or the town heated up, the order was simple, abort and fall back to the pre–planned extraction routes. Pa wanted surgical patience, not bravado. We mapped exfil routes, pickup points, and fallback lines on the desk until the paper resembled a different kind of web. Standing there, listening to the plan slot into place and feeling the team’s line–up behind it, I felt something I hadn’t let myself think in a long time: this was a real plan, with real chances, and it started with a hand that knew the feeds and a bridge that would be harmless once the feed went dark. We’d fly in, walk the approaches at dusk, take Marek at dawn, and hit the convoy while Yakov groped in the dark. No empty promises. No martyr moves. Just work, tidy and sharp, the kind that might finally let us stop running.

Ari’s mouth curled the most minuscule fraction, and she leaned forward, voice flat.

“This is steady,” she said. “You blind the feed, Yakov slows convoys or reroutes. That gives you one clean window to hit a run with less risk. But you don’t stop there. You don’t treat this like one big score; you make it a drain.”

She tapped the map with one finger. “Plan multiple interdictions. Different times, different teams, staggered. Hit handlers, relay nodes, fuel caches, specialist shipments. Don’t let him re–establish the same route twice without cost. Keep pressure on rotation so he’s always rebuilding, always vulnerable.”

Ari looked up and met Pa’s eyes directly. “Spread your teams out so he can’t choke one point and expect safety elsewhere. Have reserves ready to move when a hole appears. Use false convoys as bait when you need to lure his handlers out. And when you do hit a convoy, capture what you can: manifests, phones, hard drives. Flip who you can. Use his own people to feed you more holes.”

She let the plan sit for a beat, then added, quieter, “Force him to show up.”

Conner’s grin returned, hungry. Oh yeah, things are about to get bloody.

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