Chapter 43: The Spider’s Web

John leaned against Edward's massive oak desk, arms crossed, while I poured over a digital map of the city on Edward's holographic projector. We were gathered in Edward's private study, the opulence of the room contrasting sharply with the conversation we were having.

"Our next target is Sergeant Megan Ortiz," I said, tapping a point on the map where her patrol routes overlapped with known narcotics hot spots. "She's slippery, and by now, she knows we're coming."

John smirked, his voice laced with confidence. "Let me guess. You've already got her cornered."

"Not yet," I admitted, "but I will. Ortiz is smart, but her fatal flaw is emotion. She doesn't care about Cassandra's empire. She cares about him."

I brought up an image on the screen: a young man in his early twenties, well-dressed, with a charming smile. "Marcus Raynor," I said. "Her sugar baby. He's her Achilles' heel."

Edward raised an eyebrow. "You're going to use him to lure her out?"

"Exactly," I said, leaning back in my chair. "Ortiz is careful. She doesn't take risks unless it involves Marcus. If we get to him, we get to her."

Step 1: Identify Marcus's Routine

"I had Graves dig into Marcus's life," I said, pulling up a detailed profile. "He frequents a luxury gym in the city center, attends private parties, and has a penchant for exclusive boutiques. He's a creature of habit, which makes him predictable."

Step 2: Create a Diversion

"We'll plant false intel about a potential ambush on Ortiz's drug routes," I continued. "Make it look like we're going for her operations directly. That'll put her on high alert and divert her attention away from Marcus."

Step 3: Isolate Marcus

"Meanwhile, we'll have Graves' tail Marcus. When he's at his most vulnerable—leaving the gym, for example—we'll intercept. He won't even know what hit him."

Step 4: The Bait

"Once we have Marcus, we'll contact Ortiz and make her believe he's in real danger. She'll come running, but only on our terms."

Step 5: Outplay Her

"Ortiz will assume it's a straightforward exchange," I said, a sly smile forming. "She doesn't know that by the time she arrives, her entire network will be dismantled. Without her connections, she's powerless."

John whistled, clearly impressed. "You've thought of everything."

"Not everything," I admitted. "Ortiz is clever. She might have contingencies. That's why we're keeping snipers on standby and using Graves as a decoy. If she tries anything, we'll be ready."

The next day, Graves sent me a message: Marcus is leaving the gym, heading to his car.

"Let's move," I said, signaling to John.

We tailed Marcus from a distance, using an unmarked SUV equipped with advanced surveillance tech. Marcus, oblivious to the world around him, was busy texting on his phone as he walked toward his sleek sports car.

"Wait for it," I muttered, watching the screen.

The moment Marcus reached his car, Graves, dressed as a jogger, casually approached him. With a quick injection of a sedative, Marcus was unconscious before he could react. Graves and his team bundled him into a second vehicle and disappeared into the traffic.

Ortiz's phone rang an hour later.

"Who is this?" she demanded, her tone sharp.

"A friend," I replied smoothly. "I believe you're looking for someone."

There was a pause. "If you've touched Marcus—"

"He's safe," I interrupted, "for now. But that depends on you. Meet me at the old warehouse on Seventh. Alone."

"You think I'm stupid?" she hissed.

"No," I said calmly. "I think you care about Marcus more than you care about your own safety. And I think you'll do whatever it takes to keep him alive."

Another pause. Then, quietly: "I'll be there."

The warehouse was dark, lit only by the faint glow of streetlights filtering through broken windows. Marcus sat tied to a chair in the center of the room, unharmed but visibly shaken.

Ortiz arrived exactly on time, her expression a mix of fury and fear. She was alone, as instructed, but I knew she wouldn't have come unprepared.

"Where is he?" she demanded, her hand hovering near her concealed weapon.

I stepped out of the shadows, John at my side. "Relax, Sergeant," I said. "He's right here."

Marcus looked up, relief flooding his face. "Megan!"

Ortiz's eyes darted between us, calculating. "What do you want?"

"Simple," I said. "Your loyalty. Join me, and Marcus walks out of here unharmed."

Her lips curled into a sneer. "You think I'll betray Cassandra just because you've got Marcus? You don't know me."

"No," I said, my voice steady. "But I know Cassandra. And I know she's already written you off."

I stepped closer, handing her a tablet. "This is a transcript of a conversation between Cassandra and Victor Kane. They're discussing the narcotics division—and your expendability."

Ortiz's eyes scanned the document, her face hardening with every line. "This... this could be fake," she said, but her voice wavered.

"It's not," I said. "And here's the proof."

I played an audio recording, Cassandra's voice echoing through the warehouse. "Ortiz has gotten too comfortable. If she's compromised, cut her loose. We can't afford dead weight."

Ortiz's hand trembled as she lowered the tablet. "She wouldn't…"

"She did," I said softly. "You've given her everything, and this is how she repays you."

Ortiz's loyalty meter hovered at 50%. I needed one final push.

"You have a choice," I said. "Keep serving someone who sees you as disposable, or join me and protect the one person who actually matters to you."

She looked at Marcus, then back at me. "If I do this," she said slowly, "how do I know you won't betray me too?"

"You don't," I admitted. "But I've never lied to you. Can you say the same for Cassandra?"

The meter ticked upward. 70%. 80%. 90%.

Finally, she nodded. "Fine. I'm in."

As Ortiz untied Marcus, she suddenly stood, her composure snapping back into place. Her hand hovered near her badge.

"You know," she said, her tone sharper now, "I should arrest you. Kidnapping, coercion, tampering with evidence—hell, I could list a dozen charges right now."

John stepped forward, his face hardening, but I held up a hand to stop him.

"You could arrest me," I replied calmly, folding my arms across my chest. "You could haul me into that precinct and slap cuffs on me right here, right now." I paused, a faint smirk playing on my lips. "But what happens after that, Megan?"

Ortiz's expression faltered.

I took a step closer, lowering my voice so it was just between us. "You're part of Cassandra's network, Sergeant. You've been complicit in covering up crimes for years. If you arrest me, you'll bring attention to yourself—and to Marcus." I gestured to him, still shaken in his chair. "And let's not forget, Cassandra won't come rushing to your aid. She'll cut you loose the second she senses trouble."

Ortiz's jaw clenched, but she didn't say anything.

"You think I'm bluffing?" I said, pulling out a USB drive and holding it up. "On here is everything I need to take you down. Bank records. Call logs. Surveillance footage. You arrest me, and this goes to every news outlet in the city."

Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't."

I tilted my head. "Wouldn't I? I'm not the one with something to lose here, Megan. You are. So go ahead—call your precinct. See who really wins this game."

Ortiz took a step back, her hand lowering from her badge. For a moment, I could see the conflict in her eyes—the anger, the fear, the calculation. She was weighing her options, trying to figure out a way out of the trap I'd set.

"You're a manipulative little bastard, you know that?" Ortiz said, her voice tinged with equal parts frustration and reluctant admiration.

I smirked, unfazed by her words. "I've heard that one before, Sergeant. It doesn't hurt my feelings."

Ortiz crossed her arms, glaring at me with narrowed eyes. "That's what's unsettling about you, kid. You don't act like a teenager. Hell, you don't even think like one. Most 15-year-olds are worried about grades, sports, or their next Facebook post—not dismantling criminal empires."

John chuckled beside me, but I didn't break eye contact with Ortiz. "Is that so hard to believe? Maybe I'm just a prodigy."

Ortiz shook her head. "No, it's more than that. The way you plan, the way you talk, the way you manipulate people—it's like you've lived through all of this before." She took a step closer, her gaze piercing. "So tell me, William. Who the hell are you, really?"

I could feel John tense beside me, ready to intervene, but I raised a hand to stop him. This was a delicate moment. If I brushed her off, it could breed distrust. But if I gave her too much, it might make her wary of staying on my side.

I sighed, letting a flicker of vulnerability seep into my tone. "You're right, Megan. I'm not a normal 15-year-old. But does it really matter who I am? What matters is what I'm doing—what we're doing. Cassandra's empire is a disease, and you know it. You've seen it rot this city from the inside out."

Ortiz frowned, her posture stiffening. "That doesn't answer my question."

"It doesn't have to," I replied smoothly. "Because at the end of the day, what I can do for you, for this city, outweighs whatever secrets I might be keeping. I know you've been part of this game for a long time, Megan. You've seen how Cassandra operates. Do you honestly believe she'll protect you when things go south?"

She hesitated, the cracks in her tough exterior showing. "No. I don't."

"Exactly," I said, stepping closer. "You know Cassandra doesn't care about anyone but herself. She uses people like pawns and tosses them aside when they're no longer useful. You've worked for her, covered for her, done her dirty work—and for what? A paycheck? A few hollow promises?"

Her jaw tightened, but she didn't argue.

Ortiz's eyes flicked toward Marcus, who was still seated, visibly shaken but quiet. She then turned her gaze back to me, studying me like she was trying to solve a puzzle.

"I'll admit, you've got a point," she said finally. "But I still don't trust you, William. For all I know, you're just another puppet master trying to pull my strings. How do I know you're not just using me the same way Cassandra has?"

I shrugged, my voice calm and measured. "You don't. Not yet. Trust isn't something I can demand—it's something I have to earn. But let me ask you this: Have I lied to you so far? Have I given you any reason to doubt that I'll follow through on my promises?"

She didn't respond immediately, and I knew I had her thinking.

"I'll give you the truth, Megan," I continued, my tone softening. "I don't need you because you're a pawn. I need you because you're smart, capable, and because you care. You might not want to admit it, but deep down, you've always wanted to do the right thing. You're just stuck in a system that doesn't reward people like you for having a conscience."

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—maybe hope, maybe regret.

"You don't know me," she said quietly.

"I know enough," I replied. "And I know that you don't have to keep walking down the same path. Work with me, Megan. Not because I'm forcing you, but because you know it's the right thing to do."

Ortiz let out a long sigh, her shoulders sagging as the weight of years of compromise and moral conflict seemed to press down on her all at once.

"You're good at this," she admitted. "Too good. No normal teenager talks like this. I don't know what your deal is, William, but…" She hesitated, then looked me directly in the eye. "I'll bite—for now. But if you screw me over, you'll regret it."

I smiled, the system chiming in my mind as her loyalty meter climbed higher.

[Loyalty Meter: Megan Ortiz – 95%.]

"Fair enough," I said, extending a hand. "Welcome to the team, Sergeant."

She hesitated for a second before shaking my hand.

As we left the warehouse, John glanced over at me, his expression a mix of amusement and admiration. "You sure have a way with words, William."

"It's not about words," I replied, glancing back at Ortiz, who was walking with Marcus. "It's about knowing what makes people tick—and giving them a reason to believe in something better."

John snorted. "And here I thought you were just a manipulative little bastard."

I grinned. "I can be both."

With Ortiz officially on our side, Cassandra's network was starting to collapse under its own weight. But the game was far from over—and I was already thinking ten steps ahead to what came next.

The system chimed.

[Loyalty Meter: Megan Ortiz – 100%.]

[Hidden Mission Complete! Reward Unlocked: Legendary-Rank Skill – Tactical Subjugation.]