Aboard the Black Swan | P.JM |

Anchors and Oaths

RM POV

The silence of my quarters was a stark contrast to the memory of the previous night's conversation. The image of Y/N's shattered composure and Jimin's pain-etched stoicism was a fresh, sobering data point in the ledger of this operation. The cost had been high. But the intelligence-the real intelligence, plucked from the web of panic the blank ledger had created-was invaluable.

The promise I had made to Y/N-to clear her name-was not mere comfort. It was a strategic necessity. A fractured crew is a vulnerable one. My next move was not to lead a charge, but to perform surgery: to carefully excise the tumor of blame and suspicion festering within my own officers.

A quiet knock. "Enter."

They filed in: Kim Taehyung, a contained storm of protective fury. Min Yoongi, his sharp eyes already analyzing, suspecting a dozen angles. Jung Hoseok, his usual sunny demeanor banked, replaced by a watchful, somber calm. Kim Seokjin, his face uncharacteristically serious, the weight of his role as medic and caretaker heavy upon him. And Jeon Jungkook, young and fiercely loyal, his confusion and anger a barely contained current rolling off him.

This was the council. The ones who knew the outline-the need to plant a rumor, to flush out spies-but not the brutal specifics. They had seen the bloody result without understanding the sterile logic of the operation. Their trust in my command was the bedrock of this crew, and yesterday, I had felt it tremble.

"Sit," I commanded, my voice leaving no room for debate. The air in the room was thick with unasked questions.

I did not wait for them to speak. In a situation like this, control of the narrative is everything.

"The operation to plant the rumor of the ledger was a success," I began, my tone flat, factual. "The information we have gathered from the ensuing panic among our enemies is precisely what we needed. We have identified three key safehouses and the primary handler operating in this port."

A flicker of interest in Yoongi's eyes. A slight, grim nod from Taehyung. Good. They were still soldiers who understood a victory, even a costly one.

"The operative, Heather, acted under my direct and explicit orders." I let the statement hang, heavy and absolute. "The plan, from inception to execution, was hers. The decision to use Beomgyu as the primary vector for the rumor, and the contingency that placed Jimin in a position to be the one to 'catch' him, was her design. But the order to proceed with the plan was mine."

The reaction was immediate and visceral.

Jungkook sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide with disbelief. Jin's mouth fell open slightly, a rare look of pure shock on his features. Hoseok went very still, the copper coin stopping its dance over his knuckles. Taehyung's head snapped up, his earlier anger now refocused, sharpened by this new information. Only Yoongi remained unmoved, though his eyes narrowed, calculating the brutal geometry of such a strategy.

"You... you ordered Heather to..." Jungkook couldn't finish the sentence, the betrayal in his voice palpable.

"I placed operatives where they needed to be to make the play believable," I corrected, my voice cool, dismantling his emotional response with logic. "The handler we are tracking is exceptionally cautious. He would have seen through a half-measure. He needed to see a real fracture, real blood, real betrayal within our ranks. He saw it. And he took the bait."

"You used them against each other," Hoseok said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual melody. It wasn't a question. It was a horrified realization. "You knew Jimin would react with definitive force. You calculated the level of violence required to be convincing."