CHAPTER 21 - The Aegis Thread

The cabin was no longer safe. It hadn't been the moment glass shattered and blood spilled across its wooden floor.

By dawn, Sebastian and Audrey had traveled north—off-road, off-grid. Through thickets and underbrush, down forest trails unmarked on any modern map. Hours later, they reached a shuttered ranger's outpost tucked into the base of a granite ridge.

Remote. Quiet. Not safe. Just hidden enough.

Sebastian pushed open the warped door, sweeping the corners with his weapon before signaling Audrey inside. She followed, dragging the unconscious man they'd taken from the cabin floor—hooded, zip-tied, bloodied but alive.

She dropped him onto the cracked tile like luggage.

"Wake him," she said flatly.

Sebastian closed the door behind them and braced a metal chair under the knob. Then he turned and delivered a sharp kick to the man's ribs—not enough to kill, just enough to make breathing hell.

The man gasped awake, coughing under the hood.

Audrey crouched before him, pulled the hood off slowly.

He was younger than she expected. Early twenties. Pale skin. Military buzz cut. And—oddly—no fear in his eyes. Just blankness. Trained. Conditioned.

"Name," Sebastian snapped.

The man said nothing.

"Unit?"

Silence.

Audrey leaned in, her fingers sliding behind the man's neck, applying subtle pressure to a nerve cluster just below the base of his skull. His jaw clenched. Sweat beaded his brow.

"Your pain tolerance doesn't impress me," she murmured. "Your silence doesn't scare me. What I want to know is simple. Why us?"

Still no answer.

Then, from him—calm, detached: "You were never the target."

Audrey's brow tightened. "What?"

"She is," he said, turning his gaze to Sebastian. "He's bait. You're the threat."

That stopped her cold.

Sebastian stood still as stone behind her. "Explain."

The man smiled. "You already know. Project Heretic never ended. They just changed the name."

Audrey grabbed his jaw, forcing his face toward hers. "What do you know about Aegis Protocol?"

His expression shifted. Just a flicker. Enough.

She stood. "He's not a soldier. He's a trigger."

Sebastian nodded grimly. "Then let's make him fire."

He crossed to the desk, opened a weathered drawer, and pulled out a small pouch. Inside—an injector pen. Fast-acting truth serum. Illegal. Effective.

The man's eyes widened for the first time.

But before the pen could reach his neck—he convulsed.

Audrey reacted instantly, checking for a pulse, prying his mouth open—but it was too late. Blood trickled from his lips. His eyes rolled back.

Sebastian cursed. "Cyanide. Implanted molar."

Audrey stood slowly. "He was never meant to talk. Just stall us."

And then… her phone vibrated.

She hadn't heard it ring in hours. A burner. One no one should've had the number for.

One message. No sender.

Just a video clip.

She tapped it open.

The screen flickered—and there, inside a familiar room in the Donovan estate, stood Clara, her back to the camera… speaking quietly to someone just outside the frame.

Lucien.

Audrey's stomach dropped.

Donovan Estate, San Francisco

45 Minutes Earlier

The silver tea tray trembled in Clara's hands as she set it on the counter. She was alone—or so anyone thought.

She glanced at the ornate clock ticking in the corner of the Donovan estate's grand kitchen. Then to the hallway.

"Two minutes," came the voice from the shadows.

She didn't jump. She didn't flinch. She just spoke softly. "You said no harm would come to him."

Lucien emerged, tailored in gray, his presence smooth and chilling. "And no harm will. As long as you do exactly what I ask."

Clara's jaw clenched. "I've raised him since he was eight. I taught him French. Held him when his mother died. You think I'd betray him for money?"

Lucien smiled. "No. Not for money. But for her."

That struck something.

Her eyes watered, lips tight. "She was my daughter."

"And she died because Audrey didn't follow orders. Aegis covered it up. But you didn't forget, Clara. You just waited."

Lucien pulled a small flash drive from his coat pocket, placing it beside her trembling hand.

"This holds the location of Audrey's last known safehouse. Deliver it to me, and I'll give you what the Agency never did—the unredacted file on what happened to your daughter in Damascus."

Clara looked down at the drive. Then at Lucien.

"You're a monster."

"No," he said, straightening his collar. "I'm what monsters fear."

Back in the ranger station

Audrey dropped the phone on the counter.

"Clara's compromised," she whispered.

Sebastian's hands balled into fists. "She raised me…"

Audrey met his eyes, cold fury simmering beneath her skin.

"We're out of time."

.....

UN Intelligence Summit in Geneva, Switzerland

 The Montreux Palace's ballroom glistened with refined elegance. Under a canopy of flags and covert security equipment, dignitaries and intelligence officials whispered in close circles as crystal chandeliers spilled light over glistening marble floors. The UN Intelligence Summit was always show, never diplomacy. A stage decked up in champagne, protocol, and rehearsed grins, all under the auspices of world peace.

Instead, it became Lucien Moreau's debut.

He didn't walk in as a shadow or a phantom. He arrived as Director Moreau of the EurSec Hybrid Threat Division, flanked by diplomats and enforcers, dressed in a tailored black coat with polished brass insignia stitched onto the breast.

His presence shifted the room like a pressure drop.

Sebastian once called him a ghost. Audrey had called him something worse: a survivor.

But now—Lucien wasn't hiding in shadows. He was stepping into the light.

As world leaders took their seats, the summit's main screen dimmed. A soft voice crackled through the speakers. "We now yield the floor to Director Lucien Moreau of the Eurasian Coalition."

He walked onto the stage slowly, commanding without theatrics. No notes. No hesitation.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice calm, accented, every syllable deliberate, "we live in an era of manufactured peace. And beneath that illusion, we have allowed a disease to grow—one that thrives in shadows. Insurgents. Rogue operatives. Programs buried by bureaucrats too cowardly to act."

He paused, letting the room still.

"I am not here to warn you. I am here to inform you: as of 0400 hours this morning, the Aegis Protocol has been reactivated under global cooperative defense authority. Not as a ghost file. Not as theory. But as law."

Murmurs erupted across the chamber.

Lucien continued. "This isn't conjecture. It's action. Operatives like Audrey Rousseau and Sebastian Donovan—names once hailed as heroes—have gone dark, weaponized their training, and compromised multiple civilian assets. They are now considered Tier-1 Rogue Entities."

He gestured, and the screens behind him lit up—surveillance images of Audrey and Sebastian, grainy but clear. Cabin footage. A thermal outline. Even a photo from Marseille—Audrey walking alone at night.

"She is already in play. He has joined her."

Then came the blow: "As per Article 9 of the Geneva Accord Amendments, all member states have been authorized to assist in the acquisition or elimination of rogue Tier-1s under the Aegis Protocol. Effective immediately."

A silence swallowed the hall.

Lucien stepped forward. "This is not an act of war. This is the restoration of order."

His eyes swept across the crowd, but his voice—his words—were aimed directly at her.

"If you are watching, Rousseau… you should have stayed buried."

Hidden Location

Audrey's POV

Audrey watched the broadcast on a cracked tablet, eyes locked, lips parted. Her breath was shallow, not from fear—but from recognition.

Lucien wasn't trying to kill her in the dark.

He was bringing her into the light—to paint her as the villain.

Sebastian stared over her shoulder. "He's put a global kill order on us."

"Not just us," Audrey said. "He's framing the collapse of the Heretic Project as a rogue operation. And making Aegis the solution."

She dropped the tablet, voice hardening.

"He wants to rewrite history. And burn us as the opening act."

Geneva (Post-Summit, Private Suite)

Lucien POV

Lucien stood at the balcony, wine untouched, fingers toying with a chess piece on the ledge—a white queen.

Behind him, a woman waited—older, severe, draped in gray silk.

"You understand what you've done," she said. "The Agency will retaliate. Audrey will retaliate."

Lucien didn't turn.

"They'll try," he murmured. "But now… I control the narrative."

He placed the queen on the board. Knocked over the black knight with a flick.

"The world just became my chessboard."