Chapter #3

Freya felt uneasy since the beginning of her search. Nothing felt right, every lead seemed almost too convenient, as if someone was guiding them. She tried to shake the thought. Doubts would not help her find Timothy Banks. 

The dock lurked ahead, quiet except for the annoying hum of machinery and the sound of crashing waves. Sid parked the car behind a wall of stacked cargo containers, killing the engine to avoid drawing attention. Freya slid out, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the phantom ship. 

It was docked under lighting; it was massive and shadowy against the foggy night. Around it, six guards patrolled, their movements organized. Rifles hung from their shoulders, and holstered pistols glinted under the glow of overhead lamps. 

Freya crouched, motioning for Sid to join her. "Do you see him?" she whispered. 

Sid shook his head, his fingers tapping quickly on his tablet. The device emitted a soft light as he scanned for thermal signatures. "No sign of him. If he's here, they've kept him out of sight." Freya took a slow breath, her mind racing. "We need to get closer. What's the ship's layout?" 

Sid pulled up the closest reference to the ship's model. "There's a hatch at the stern," he said, pointing to the screen. "It leads to the lower decks. If they've hidden Tim, it's probably there. The guards do not seem to be watching that side too closely." 

Freya adjusted the dark cloak over her shoulders "We use the containers for cover and head for the stern. Stay quiet." 

Sid nodded, and they began making their way through the maze of cargo. Every step was calculated, their movements timed with the guards' patrols. Freya led the way, her instincts leading her as she paused at each corner to check the situation. 

When they finally reached the stern, Freya examined the hatch Sid had mentioned. It was locked, as expected. She pulled a slim toolkit from her belt and got to work; her hands steady despite the tension in the air. Within seconds, the lock clicked open. 

The air inside the lower deck was damp and heavy. Freya descended first; her boots silent against the metal steps. Sid followed, holding his tablet tightly. The space was dimly lit, the faint yellow glow of overhead lights casting long shadows over the rows of crates and equipment. 

"Start searching," Freya whispered. Her voice might have been calm, but her eyes showed her urgency. 

Sid nodded, scanning the area with his tablet. "Still nothing," he said quietly. 

Freya moved through the aisles, scanning every corner. She checked behind crates, under tarps, and even inside a few unlocked storage units. The silence was suffocating. 

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, but their search led to nothing. No sign of Timothy Banks. 

"Nothing," Sid said, his frustration evident as he rechecked his readings. 

Freya's jaw tightened. Her fists curled at her sides, she had the urge to scream and punch the wall, but she forced herself to remain composed. "They've already moved him," she muttered, her voice low. "Or... this was never about him being here at all, he was probably shipped days ago. This ship must be the one he rode." 

Before Sid could respond, the faint vibration of engines echoed through the ship. Freya froze, her ears straining to identify the sound. 

"Madam Freya," Sid whispered, a note of urgency in his voice. "The ship's moving. We're leaving the dock." 

Freya's gaze snapped toward the hatch they'd entered through. It was too late to retreat without being seen. "We stay on board," she said firmly. "Wherever they're going, we'll follow." 

The ship's journey was long and tense. Freya and Sid remained hidden in the shadows, tucked between crates to avoid being seen. The rhythmic vibrations of the engine were their only indication that they were moving farther from Chicago. 

Freya spent the hours replaying the mission in her head, searching for anything she might have overlooked. Had they been lured here intentionally? Was Timothy even part of the equation, or was this something else entirely? Or was she just overthinking it? Timothy was taken a week ago, perhaps they were too late? 

When the ship finally stopped, Freya felt a flicker of hope. She motioned for Sid to follow her as they crept back toward the hatch. The air outside was colder, and the distant traffic of a city suggested they were far from their starting point. 

Sid squinted at the street signs in the distance. "We're not in Chicago anymore," he muttered. 

Freya scanned the dock, her sharp eyes locking onto several black SUVs parked nearby. Armed men were loading supplies into the vehicles, their movements hurried but organized. 

"They're leaving," Freya said, her tone clipped. 

Sid hesitated. "What's the plan? We cannot follow on foot." 

Freya pulled Sid along, heading toward a line of parked taxis. "We follow them." 

The taxi driver gave her a curious look as they climbed in, but Freya silenced him with a wad of cash. "Those SUVs," she said firmly, pointing. "Stay back, but don't lose them." 

The chase through the unfamiliar city was nerve-wracking. The SUVs wove through narrow streets, and the taxi struggled to keep up without drawing attention. Freya leaned forward; her eyes locked on the vehicles ahead. She felt they were so close, too close to lose them now. 

But her hopes were dashed when the SUVs turned sharply into a gated industrial area. By the time the taxi reached the gate, it had shut tight, leaving them stranded outside. 

Freya stepped out of the taxi; her fists clenched. She stared at the gate as if willing it to open, but deeep down, she knew they had lost their trail. 

Sid approached cautiously. "Madam Freya, we'll find him," he said softly. 

Freya didn't respond immediately. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forced her frustration to the back of her mind. "They're smart," she said finally, her voice cold. "But so am I. This isn't over." 

Her gaze shifted to the horizon as she considered their next move. Somewhere out there, Timothy Banks was waiting, and Freya would stop at nothing to bring him back. This is a war, there was no time for mistakes... 

As they returned to the taxi, Freya slid into the back seat, her pulse quickening as unease crept over her. She leaned forward to the driver, her voice tight. "Where are we?" 

The driver turned his head slightly, giving her a puzzled glance through the rearview mirror. "Where do you think you are, love?" he replied, his accent sang the words like a foreign melody. 

Freya stiffened, her breath hitching. That was no American accent. Her gaze darted out the window, catching the sight of narrow streets lined with brick buildings and lampposts that looked straight out of an old drama. 

"England," she muttered, the word laced with disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me." 

The driver chuckled, clearly amused. "You sound like you weren't expecting to end up here." 

Freya sank back into the seat, her heart pounding. This wasn't part of the plan, they do not have many agents in England, if they ever needed backup... 

Sid did not seem very bothered as he watched the streets with a smile "This doesn't seem so bad..." Freya sighed "I hope so" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Cathleen started to pace room, her fingers twisting the ring on her hand as her team worked tirelessly to locate Freya and Sid. Despite their efforts, they had found nothing. Two days had passed since the pair had vanished without a trace, and they might have found Tim. 

Cathleen's assistant, Elena Cruz, entered the room, carrying a stack of papers. "Captain, we've reviewed the last known data from their communication devices. There's nothing unusual, but their signal ends near the harbor." 

Cathleen slammed her fist on the table, causing the papers to scatter around. "That's not good enough! Freya doesn't just vanish without reason. She must have left something behind, something we have missed." 

Elena hesitated before speaking. "There was something in the satellite footage. A ship left the harbor around the same time Freya's team was active. It was unregistered, and no flag. We're trying to locate its destination." 

Cathleen turned sharply. "Why am I only hearing about this now? I want every resource on this, find me that ship." 

Elena nodded, turning to the main computer. Cathleen exhaled sharply moving to one of the workstations and dismissed the operator, taking over the controls. She pulled up surveillance footage from the harbor, rewinding to the night Freya disappeared. 

Minutes stretched into hours, and the silence grew unbearably loud. Cathleen leaned back in her chair, her mind racing. She couldn't afford to lose Freya, not when the stakes were this high. 

Suddenly, Elena rushed back in, her face pale. "Captain, we've intercepted a communication. It's encrypted, but it's using Freya's Division's frequency." 

Cathleen jumped off her chair. "Play it. Now." 

Moments later, a distorted voice crackled through the speakers. It was barely understandable, but a few words stood out: "...England... location... compromised..." 

Cathleen's heart sank. England? Compromised?? 

She clenched her fists. "Trace that signal. I don't care what you do, just find out where it came from..." 

Another operator joined in. "Captain, we've picked up a heat signature with Division 5's standard equipment. It's faint, but it's moving through a residential area in London." 

Cathleen's mind raced. "London... They're in London." She turned to Elena. "Get me a secure line to our contacts in England. I want shoes on the ground within an hour." 

Elena hesitated. "Captain, our staff in England are low. It might take longer to-" 

"I don't want excuses." Cathleen snapped. "If we can't send our own people, then we'll hire locals. Freya and Sid are out there, and we're running out of time." 

Elena nodded and hurried out, leaving Cathleen alone to think. If Sid and Freya found Tim, it's only a matter of time for her to find them. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 

Freya and Sid walked through the streets of London, their steps slow and tired. The roads were quiet, much quieter than they expected. Streetlights glowed faintly, some of them started flickering. The air was damp and cold, carrying the smell of rain and something burnt, like an old fire that had gone out. 

Sid dragged his feet a little, "We've been walking forever," he said, his voice low. "My legs are sore, and we haven't found anything." 

Freya glanced at him. Her face looked calm, but her eyes showed how tired she was. "We can't stop now. Timothy is out there. We just must keep looking." 

Sid didn't argue, but he let out a small sigh. They had been searching for hours, and the city felt so big. Every street looked the same, tall old buildings with windows that almost looked broken. There were no people walking around, just silence and the sound of their footsteps. 

After a long while, Freya stopped and pointed ahead. "Look. There's something over there." 

Sid squinted; a small neon sign flashed. It read Rosewood Inn, though some of the letters were broken, making the sign looked half-lit. Below it was a building that looked old and worn out. The paint on the walls was peeling, and the windows were dark and dusty, as if no one had cleaned them in years. 

"You sure about this place?" Sid asked, raising an eyebrow. "It looks like it hasn't been used in a while." 

Freya shrugged. "We don't have a lot of options. Maybe someone inside can tell us something." 

As they walked closer, the uneasy feeling in Freya's stomach grew stronger. The hotel didn't look very welcoming. 

When they reached the door, Freya pushed it open. The hinges creaked loudly, like they hadn't been used in a long time. Inside, the lobby was dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were covered in faded wallpaper that might have been colorful once but was now dirty and torn in places. 

The air inside smelled musty, and dusty, at the back of the room was a small desk, and behind it stood a thin man with pale skin. He had dark circles under his eyes and a strange smile on his face. The smile didn't feel friendly, it was stiff, like he was forcing it. 

"Welcome," the man said in a calm, flat voice. 

Freya gave him a small nod, unsure of what to say. "We're just passing through," she said, her voice cautious. 

The man didn't seem bothered. He just kept smiling. "Of course. Please, take your time." 

As they stepped farther inside, Freya and Sid noticed other people in the lobby. A few sat on old chairs placed near the walls. They didn't talk or move much. 

No... they barely moved at all. They sat stiffly, with their hands resting on their laps, staring at nothing in particular. Their faces were blank, like they weren't there. 

Sid leaned closer to Freya and whispered, "What's happening right now...?" 

Freya didn't reply. She kept glancing around the room, her unease growing stronger. The whole place felt wrong. Even the staff moving around seemed strange. They walked slowly and quietly, with the same forced smiles as the man at the desk. 

Freya pretended to look around the lobby, keeping her movements casual, but her eyes stayed sharp. She noticed the peeling carpet, the cracked mirrors on the walls, and the faint sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance. Everything about the place felt off. 

"I don't like this," Sid said, his voice low. "Let's leave." 

Freya hesitated, but she felt the same way. "Yeah," she said softly. "Let's go." 

As they turned to leave, the man at the desk spoke again. "Are you sure you don't want to stay? We have many rooms available." 

His tone was polite, but there was something about it that sent a chill down Freya's spine. She shook her head quickly. "No, thanks. Maybe next time." 

The man's smile didn't waver. "Very well. Safe travels." 

They stepped out of the hotel, and the cold night air hit them immediately. Freya looked back through the glass door. The man at the desk was still there, and it felt as if his eyes were following them as they walked away. 

"That was interesting," Sid said, rubbing his arms. "Something was seriously wrong with those people." 

Freya nodded. "Yeah. I don't think they were normal. We should find a place to stay and investigate it later." 

The city stretched on before them, dark and gloomy as Freya and Sid made their way to Bloomsbury hotel.