218: Shadows in the Wind

Location: Tavara – Kane Estate, Secret East Wing Command Room

Damien stood before a massive digital war board, the backlit screen painting his features in blue light. The room was silent except for the quiet hum of servers and the low chatter of encrypted voice relays cycling through global feeds. A live satellite overlay displayed Tavara's borders, blinking red markers trailing enemy movements.

Nora entered, her stride purposeful, a crisp file in her hand. She'd just returned from the Bureau, her expression unreadable.

"I want every last movement of Blair tracked," she said, placing the file beside the screen. "He's not just an arms broker—he's an enabler. Vos is using him to fund off-grid paramilitary squads."

Damien glanced at the file, then met her eyes. "We neutralize his finances. Dry him out."

"And eliminate his options," she added coldly. "If Vos wants a war, let's remind him who trained the wolves."

Cyrus stepped into the room, nodding to both. "We have a ping. Blair left the embassy through an underground service tunnel—mapped through sewer routes, can you believe that? Someone smuggled him out like contraband."

Damien's expression darkened. "Get a drone over the route. If he's in motion, I want to intercept him without creating a diplomatic mess. Tavara's council is already watching Kane Global too closely."

"I've got Zion and Kelby tracking his trail," Cyrus replied. "We'll make it look like a car accident if needed."

Nora looked at Damien, her voice quiet but firm. "If they touch Elise—"

"They won't," Damien interrupted, stepping closer. "I'll turn every inch of Tavara into a graveyard before they get near her."

She looked at him then—deep, unwavering trust passing between them. War may be brewing outside, but the unbreakable bond they'd forged kept them grounded. Together, they weren't just strategists; they were the storm.

Just then, a soft chime echoed from the command wall. An alert.

"Perimeter alert on the west side," an AI voice reported.

Damien's expression sharpened. "Bring up the feed."

The screens changed to show grainy thermal footage—three figures in black, armed and moving swiftly through the tree line surrounding the estate.

Nora didn't hesitate. "Send Alpha squad. No survivors."

Cyrus moved fast, already giving silent orders through his earpiece.

Damien stared at the footage. "They're sending scouts. Measuring our response time."

"Then let's give them a performance they won't forget," Nora said, slipping a loaded pistol from her coat.