Chapter 97 Chapter 97
Lianas pov
The room was dimly lit, the only sound was the quiet hum of the air conditioner and the occasional flick of Stanley’s pen against the worn notepad in front of him. I sat across from him at the table. The walls were lined with whiteboards, pins, and threads of different colors mapping out timelines and connections that would give any outsider a migraine. Yet, in this chaos, I felt a strange sense of control.
"We can't keep playing defense," I said, my voice low but firm. "We need to bait him. Make him think he’s found something valuable. And we use that window to strike him."
Stanley leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "That's why I suggested Mason."
I nodded. "He still has Dominic’s ear. If we give him a piece of intel, something Dominic would bite on but make it false, we can track the fallout."
Stanley’s eyes narrowed slightly. "And if Mason flips or turns his back on us?"
"Then we burn him."
He sighed. "A rat is still a rat, even if it switches ships. I don't trust him."
I gave a tight smile. "We watch him. Let's give him just enough rope."
We spent the next two hours drafting a plan. The bait would be a fabricated internal memo marked top-secret detailing a "witness relocation" tied to Dominic’s last criminal prosecution. It would suggest that a new witness had surfaced, and it was one capable of sinking him with testimony and forensic proof. The name would be redacted, the location faked, but the narrative real enough to get Dominic moving.
Stanley typed the document, formatting it to mirror official federal documents they had seen before. I added subtle touches, a slightly smudged signature, a watermark from a long-retired department, and a unique seal code that would make it seem urgent. It would be printed, folded, and slipped into a red envelope marked CLASSIFIED.
"Now we sit back and let Mason deliver it," I said. "We track who Dominic calls next, who he sends, and where they go."
"Or," Stanley muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "we wake up and realize Mason was playing us all along.
………..
SERENA
I lay curled on the hospital bed, her fingers twitching against the sheet as if trying to catch something slipping through them. Her breath was shaky, sweat glistening on her brow. In her dreams, Elia stood in a corridor bathed in shadows, reaching out, saying something she couldn’t hear. Behind Elia was a woman, face blurred, presence suffocating who yanked Elia backward into the darkness.
I bolted upright with a strangled cry. Her pulse raced.
It took several seconds for me to realize I was alone in the room. The sunlight pushing through the dusty blinds painted stripes across the walls. My breathing slowed, but the panic didn’t fade.
I reached for the journal Liana had given me, flipping through the blank pages until I reached the middle. There, I began to write.
I dreamt of her again. Elia. She looked... tired. Thin. But she reached out to me. Like she wanted me to remember something.
And that woman. The one with the scar on her chin. The more I see her, the more real she feels. But when I try to focus, her face becomes fog.
I tapped the pen anxiously trying to recollect.
Something is wrong with my memory. Some parts feel like they were never mine. Some days, I’m sure of what happened. Others... not at all.
I closed the journal, heart thudding. And just then, a knock startled me but there was no one. Maybe it the wind against the windows. Or was it?
I heard the sound again but this time it was real. Someone was tapping at my windows, I was alone in the room and helpless, it was getting quite dark and there was no way I could see or call for help. Was anyone near by?
The window slide stretched slowly as someone pulled at it softly, I wanted to call for help but I couldn't find my voice and just as a hand began to emerge, the door burst open and Stanley came in. Immediately, the hand vanished.
“There was someone there” I said immediately and his face shifted there with concern.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, he pulled the window and tried to stretch his hand.”
Stanley went closer and investigated the area, the window was truly open. He didn't say a word, instead he turned around and left the room.
Liana's Pov
The first threads of deception were manageable and even predictable. But now, with each passing hour, the web around us tightened. And I could feel it, like hands pressing against my throat. The second mole wasn’t hiding anymore. They were watching.
That morning, Mason sent a message. .
CODE YELLOW. Retrieval operation. Coordinates unclear.
I barely had time to digest it before Stanley stormed into my office, dark circles under his eyes and a folder clutched in one hand.
"We’ve got movement," he said without greeting. "Dominic might be sniffing around one of the safe houses in Sector 4. Your boy Mason says he heard something about a ‘package pickup.’"
My blood turned cold. "You think it has to do with Elia?"
He didn’t answer right away. He just stared at me, as if trying to decide whether to lie. "It fits the pattern. Every time we push Dominic into a corner, he gets desperate. I think there's a secret we don't know. Maybe Elia's alive..."
I stood shocked but trying to process. "Then we have to find him first."
Stanley handed me the file. Inside were names, photos, printouts of surveillance reports. He had mobilized three teams overnight to monitor Dominic’s safe houses. I flipped through the pages, my eyes narrowing at a particular image of Dominic talking to a man in a red cap outside a bakery. It meant nothing at first glance. But then, behind the man, a blurry figure hovered near a car watching.
Not one of ours. "Did you see this?" I pointed to the figure.
Stanley peered over my shoulder. "Enhance it. If it's the same guy from the previous recon, we’ve got overlap. We could be dealing with a tail."
I turned to my computer, uploading the image to our secure visual analysis software. It would take a while. In the meantime, we had another issue.
Mason. I met him in the maintenance tunnel behind our offices, a hidden checkpoint we’d used during covert drops. He looked like hell, sweat lining his forehead, shirt wrinkled and damp.
"You told Dominic about the relocation memo. Now it's all over the goddamn news," I snapped.
He held up both hands. "I didn’t leak it! I only gave it to Dominic. He promised he’d keep it quiet and said he needed it to confirm something."
I stepped forward, eyes locked on his. "If you're lying…."
"I’m not! Jesus, Liana. I'm risking my neck here."
"Then who else knew?"
He blinked. "No one. Just me."