Chapter #1

Three hundred men stood in anticipation, waiting for her arrival. Freya stepped onto the ground crouching, her gun in hand. As she gazed at the scene, Freya handed a cloak to Sid, her loyal second-in-command, using sign language to order him to conceal himself within the crowd. Despite the look of reluctance, Sid followed her instructions without protest, one of the qualities she admired the most about him. 

Crouched behind a column amidst the celebration of the Mardi Gras festival, New Orleans, Freya spotted around 251 members of the BST scattered among the crowd. Yet, something felt off. Where are the other members? she wondered, her senses on high alert. 

"Madam Freya! We've got company!" a voice crackled through her earphone. Gunfire erupted in the background; the explosive sound was unmistakable. 

"Goddam-" Freya cursed under her breath as an explosion tore through the middle of the square. Families screamed in panic; the festival was evolving into pure chaos. Racing toward the scene, Freya quickly scanned the area, but the BST members had vanished without a trace. 

"My, my, what a delightful surprise! You've saved us the trouble of finding you. How considerate," a man's voice called out, smooth and malicious, from within the flames. His smile was so disarmingly deceitful that Freya faltered for a moment. 

"D-Damian?" she stammered; her voice shaky with disbelief. Slowly stepping back, she felt the cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed against her spine. Her eyes widened as she turned to find herself surrounded by almost all three hundred members of the enemy. 

"Oh dear, Freya. Did you truly think I would come unprepared?" Damian's tone was mocking, as if her fear amused him. 

"Lord Damian, w-why are you here?" Freya managed to choke out, her mind racing. 

"Goodness, Freya Andeno. Have you not yet realized?" His voice was filled with disdain. 

Taking another step backward, Freya was shoved forward by one of Damian's men. She stumbled but quickly stood back up, though her legs trembled. Sweat trickled down her neck, her arms felt weak, and her head swirled with confusion. Could this truly be Lord Damian, the man behind the scenes? The mastermind of the war that ravaged our nations? The one responsible for selling classified Chinese intelligence to America, igniting a conflict that promised nothing but destruction? 

Before she could fully process the horror of the situation, a voice interrupted her thoughts. 

"Madam Freya, are you alright?" 

Freya jolted upright in her bed, her breath heavy, her palms slick with sweat. She quickly scanned the dark room, momentarily disoriented. 

"Madam Freya?" The voice was Sid, who stood next to her, his expression heavy with concern. 

"Oh, Sid..." Freya exhaled slowly, placing her feet on the ground. "What brings you here?" 

Sid hesitated, his eyes searching her face. "Madam Freya, I hope you're well," he said softly as he stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her forehead. 

"You are running a fever," he observed, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing the sweat from her brow and neck. 

Freya shook her head. "Thank you, Sid, but I am alright," she said, her voice steady as she took the handkerchief and slipped it back into his pocket. 

"Is something the matter?" she asked, 

"Yes, Madam. Scheld has called a meeting," Sid replied, stepping back and releasing her shoulder. "I just came to inform you." 

"I will be waiting for you outside," he added quickly, retreating toward the door with an awkward tilt of his head, then stepping out into the garden to give her space. 

Freya sat for a moment; her mind still tangled in the remnants of that awfully disturbing dream. A reflection of her worries that had weighed heavily on her in these fragile times. But even as she dressed, a sense of unease crept over her. Something big was coming, she could feel it. As she met Sid outside, it was clear that he sensed it too. 

The drive to the Harold Washington Library was unnervingly silent. Freya could not bear to tell Sid about her disturbing dream, it was... just a dream. The library, a landmark hiding 12,245 agents within its walls, was the perfect location for their operations and meetings. No one would ever suspect that the enemy might be hiding in plain sight, in one of the city's most famous public spaces. 

Upon arriving, Freya and Sid made their way to the end of the seventh floor. There, behind the heaviest book on the shelf, was a small button. Only those aware of its existence would ever notice it. Freya placed her hand on the button, awaiting the fingerprint recognition. Sid stood guard, watching the surroundings, although no one ever visited this area. 

With a soft click, the hidden door opened, revealing a narrow stairwell and a passageway that led between the sixth and seventh floors. It was a cramped, nerve-wracking space, but it had served as their headquarters for months, an uncomfortably close yet secure sanctuary amidst the chaos of the war. 

"Go on," Freya instructed Sid, motioning him to enter first. She lingered for a moment, scanning the surroundings one final time before stepping inside and sealing the door behind her. 

As they descended the stairs and walked through the dark hallway, the sound of voices grew louder with every step. At the end, a white door stood before them. Freya and Sid exchanged a glance before looking up at the security camera. Awaiting the device to scan their eyes and faces for recognition, confirming their identities. 

After a brief pause, a soft click echoed through the corridor as the door unlocked, allowing them to go through.