The Rialto's back alley smelled like garbage and fear. Marcus sat on a crate, his arm bandaged by a paramedic. Claire stood beside him, her dad's notebook open to a page marked "Ivan Petrov." Miller stood in front of them, his face red.
"Ivan's a ghost," Miller said, slamming a file down. "No photos, no addresses. Just a name. He runs the Petrov Syndicate—smuggles drugs and weapons between Europe and the US."
Sophia leaned against a wall, her switchblade in her hand. "My dad heard of him. Said he's ruthless. Kills anyone who crosses him."
Marcus's phone buzzed. A text from his mom: "The restaurant's fine. But a man left a note—'Tell Marcus Ivan's waiting.'"
He showed it to the group. Claire's face paled. "He's targeting your mom. To get to you."
Marcus stood, his arm throbbing. "I need to go back to LA. Protect her."
Claire nodded. "I'll come with you. NYU can wait—this is more important."
Miller shook his head. "Ivan's men will be watching the airports. Take my car. It's unmarked."
They left an hour later. Marcus drove Miller's black sedan, Claire in the passenger seat. Sophia had stayed in New York, to help Miller question Viktor.
"He won't talk," Claire said, flipping through her dad's notebook. "Dad wrote that Ivan's men never talk. They'd rather die than give up info."
Marcus nodded, gripping the steering wheel. He thought of his mom, alone at the restaurant. Of Ivan, waiting. Of the game that just kept getting bigger.
They reached LA at 6 AM. The sun was rising, painting the sky orange. Marcus drove straight to his mom's restaurant. She was inside, making dumplings, a police officer standing by the door—Miller had sent him to guard her.
"Marcus!" she said, running to hug him. "You're back."
He hugged her tight. "I'm not leaving again. Not until Ivan's caught."
Claire smiled, sitting at a table. "I brought my dad's notes. We can find Ivan. Together."
That afternoon, they spread the notes across the restaurant's tables. Raymond joined them, Skyping from his apartment.
"Dad's notes mention a warehouse in Long Beach," Claire said, pointing to a map. "Ivan uses it to store drugs. My dad was gonna raid it, but he died before he could."
Marcus nodded. "We need to check it out. Tonight."
Raymond shook his head on the screen. "Too dangerous. Ivan's men will be there. You need a plan."
"I have one," Sophia said, joining the call. "I got Viktor to talk. Ivan's meeting his men at the warehouse tonight. 10 PM. He's bringing the drugs for LA."
Marcus grinned. "Then we'll be there. With Miller's team."
They met Miller at the Long Beach warehouse at 9:30 PM. The warehouse was dark, its windows boarded up. Miller's agents surrounded the building, their guns drawn.
"Marcus, Claire—you go in first. Find Ivan. We'll cover you."
They slipped through a gap in the fence. The warehouse door was unlocked. Inside, rows of shipping containers lined the walls. Ivan stood in the center, talking to two men.
"Stay behind me," Marcus whispered.
They crept closer. Ivan turned, his eyes sharp. "Marcus Chen. I've heard a lot about you."
Marcus stepped forward. "It's over, Ivan. The FBI's outside."
Ivan laughed, pulling a gun. "You think I'm stupid? I have a boat waiting. And your mom—"
"Is safe," Claire said, pulling out her phone. A live feed from the restaurant—Miller's agent was still guarding her.
Ivan's jaw tightened. He fired a shot, missing Marcus by inches. Marcus tackled him, and they rolled onto the floor. Ivan's gun slid across the floor, and Claire grabbed it.
"Freeze!" she yelled.
Ivan struggled, but Marcus cuffed him. Miller's agents ran in, arresting the other men.
As Ivan was led away, he looked at Marcus. "This isn't over. The syndicate will find you. In LA, in New York—everywhere."
Marcus nodded. He knew. The syndicate was big. But he had Claire. Sophia. Raymond. Miller.
He wasn't alone.
Outside, the sun was setting. Claire hugged Marcus, her head on his shoulder. "We did it. For my dad. For your mom."
Marcus hugged her back. "We did it together."
Raymond's voice came over the phone: "You're a hero, kid. But don't get cocky. There's always another game."
Marcus smiled. He knew. But for now, he was content to stand there, with Claire beside him, the warehouse behind them, and the promise of a quiet life ahead.
The game would wait.
For tonight, they were safe.