Location: Tavara – Midtown, Undercover Intelligence Bureau
Rain lashed against the glass windows of the high-security building nestled in Tavara's government quarter. The city was cloaked in a gloomy veil, the perfect cover for secrets best left unspoken.
Nora adjusted her coat and stepped into the dimly lit hallway of the Undercover Intelligence Bureau. Her presence was a rare one here, but recent developments demanded more than encrypted messages and shadow operatives.
At the far end, Director Arlo Simmons rose as she entered. "Dr. Ashford," he greeted with a solemn nod. "Or should I say, Lady Kane?"
"I'm still Nora," she said, her voice calm. "Titles mean little when the bullets start flying."
Simmons didn't smile. He handed her a sealed folder. "We confirmed it. Vos has a double-agent in our ranks. Embedded deep. And worse, we believe he was briefed on Elise."
Nora's spine stiffened. "Where is he?"
"Gone. Vanished last night."
The file in her hands burned like fire. Elise—her child—was the one thing she would raze the world to protect.
"We're pulling up satellite heatmaps," Simmons continued. "But Vos is using tech we can't trace through standard military networks. It's ghost-coded."
Nora's eyes narrowed. "Which means he's using private funding. Likely from his foreign investors."
She opened the folder and scanned the names. One caught her attention—Antoine Blair. A UK arms dealer with ties to the syndicates that tried to blackmail Damien last year. A ghost from their past, now re-emerging with blood in his eyes.
"I need to get back to Damien," she said sharply, already moving. "And activate Project Eclipse. Immediately."
Simmons froze. "You're invoking Eclipse?"
"It's no longer a suggestion, Arlo. They're coming for our child. Vos crossed a line."
Back at Kane Global's top floor, Damien sat with Cyrus, one of his most trusted operatives. The atmosphere was icy, the table between them covered with surveillance photos, bank transfer receipts, and red-marked dossiers.
"She activated Project Eclipse," Cyrus informed him.
Damien leaned back in his seat. "Good."
"But that means she expects a direct hit."
"She's right. Vos will try something reckless now. He's losing ground too fast."
Cyrus tapped a photo—one taken just hours ago at Tavara International. "This man—Antoine Blair—landed with a diplomatic passport. British consulate. Vos greased the system."
Damien's jaw set like steel. "Then he doesn't leave Tavara."
"I'll handle it."
Damien stood, walking to the floor-to-ceiling windows as lightning cracked across the skyline. His reflection stared back—eyes harder than steel, heart burning with vengeance.
"The moment they threaten Nora or Elise, this stops being a chess game," he said. "We burn their board."
That night, at a heavily guarded Kane estate, Nora checked in on Elise, sleeping peacefully. But peace was an illusion.
She turned to the shadows behind her. "Did you trace the sniper's perch?"
An agent stepped forward. "Yes, ma'am. Northwest hill. Empty when we arrived. Clean. Professional."
"They're testing our perimeter."
"They won't succeed."
"They better not," she whispered, brushing Elise's hair. "Because the next time they try, I'll become the nightmare they fear."