Chapter 186 The List
Chapter 186 The List
The Dominion compound never truly slept.
Even after midnight, the workshops echoed with the clatter of tools, the hiss of air compressors, and the low rumble of engines being rebuilt for the next stage of the Circuit Trials. Floodlights cast long shadows across the paddock, turning rows of motorcycles into silhouettes waiting for dawn.
Zara sat alone inside Garage Twelve.
The folded paper Ronan had given her rested on the workbench.
She had read the names half a dozen times.
None of them belonged to strangers.
Some had been mechanics.
Others were transport coordinators, accountants, and race officials.
People her brother had trusted.
People who had either disappeared, resigned without explanation, or died under suspicious circumstances within three years of his death.
A chill settled over her.
Her brother hadn’t been working alone.
He had been part of something much larger.
Footsteps approached.
Ronan entered carrying two mugs of coffee.
“I thought you’d still be awake.”
She accepted one gratefully.
“I keep thinking about the list.”
“So have I.”
He leaned against the workbench.
“The names have one thing in common.”
“They all questioned Dominion finances.”
Zara looked up.
“They were investigating the missing shipments.”
Ronan nodded.
“And every investigation ended the same way.”
“They vanished.”
Silence settled between them.
Finally, Zara spoke.
“My brother knew he was in danger.”
“I believe he did.”
“Then why didn’t he leave?”
Ronan’s answer came without hesitation.
“Because someone had to stay long enough to uncover the truth.”
She lowered her eyes.
“He thought he could stop it.”
“He probably believed exposing one man would save everyone else.”
Ronan took a slow sip of coffee.
“He underestimated how deeply corruption had spread.”
Across the compound, the Executive Tower remained brightly lit.
Marcus stood inside his private office overlooking the empty circuit.
A framed photograph rested in his hands.
It showed a much younger Ronan standing beside him after winning his first endurance championship.
Both of them were smiling.
The office door opened quietly.
A woman in a tailored black suit stepped inside.
“You wanted the latest report.”
Marcus placed the photograph back on the shelf.
“Go ahead.”
“The surveillance team confirms Zara and Ronan have become inseparable.”
“They’re sharing information.”
“They’ve stopped hiding their meetings.”
Marcus nodded as though hearing expected news.
“And the notebook?”
“We still haven’t located it.”
A faint crease appeared between his brows.
“So he kept a second record.”
“It seems so.”
The woman hesitated.
“Should we move forward with the contingency plan?”
Marcus walked toward the rain-speckled window.
“No.”
“Not yet.”
“If we act too soon…”
“…we’ll expose ourselves.”
He looked down at the empty starting grid below.
“Let them believe they’re getting closer.”
“Hope makes people careless.”
The following morning, the Dominion cafeteria buzzed with conversation.
Riders discussed tire choices, weather forecasts, and the brutal pace of the opening Trials.
As Zara entered, the room grew noticeably quieter.
Some riders nodded respectfully.
Others avoided eye contact altogether.
The attack during Trial One had changed the way they saw her.
She was no longer the outsider.
She was a genuine contender.
Samuel slid a tray across the table.
“I saved you breakfast.”
She smiled.
“Thanks.”
Kim joined them moments later carrying a folded newspaper.
“You’ll want to see this.”
The front page featured a photograph of Zara leaning into a corner during the previous night’s race.
The headline read:
BLACK PULSE SHAKES THE CIRCUIT TRIALS
Samuel grinned.
“Looks like you’re becoming famous.”
Zara sighed.
“That’s exactly what I didn’t want.”
Ronan arrived a few moments later.
He glanced briefly at the newspaper before looking toward Zara.
“Popularity makes you visible.”
She folded the paper.
“And visibility makes me a target.”
He didn’t disagree.
Later that afternoon, the qualifying schedule for Trial Three was posted.
Unlike the previous races, riders would compete individually against the clock through an abandoned freight district filled with narrow streets, blind intersections, and elevated rail crossings.
Samuel studied the map.
“This course is different.”
Kim nodded.
“No drafting.”
“No blocking.”
“No team tactics.”
Ronan examined the layout carefully.
“They’re testing precision.”
He traced one section with his finger.
“And there’s only one place where someone could stage an accident without witnesses.”
Zara followed his hand.
A long tunnel beneath an old rail terminal.
No cameras.
No spectators.
Only concrete walls.
She looked at Ronan.
“You think they’ll use it?”
“I think they chose the route because of it.”
That evening, Zara decided to inspect the tunnel herself.
She borrowed a small utility bike and rode through the deserted freight district while daylight remained.
The tunnel stretched nearly half a kilometer beneath the rail yards.
Its ceiling leaked steadily.
Water pooled along the edges of the road.
She stopped halfway through.
Something caught her attention.
Fresh scrape marks.
Not from ordinary traffic.
Motorcycle pegs.
Recent.
She crouched beside them.
Someone had practiced here.
Repeatedly.
Her eyes moved farther ahead.
Hidden behind a stack of abandoned pallets sat the remains of a broken side mirror.
She picked it up.
The back carried a small engraved symbol.
A black wolf.
She frowned.
The Dominion never used wolf insignias.
She slipped the mirror into her jacket pocket.
Back at the compound, Ronan was waiting.
“You were gone longer than expected.”
She placed the mirror on the workbench.
“I found this.”
He turned it over.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where?”
“In the freight tunnel.”
He stared at the symbol for several seconds.
“I haven’t seen this emblem in years.”
“What is it?”
“It isn’t Dominion.”
Samuel stepped closer.
“Then whose is it?”
Ronan looked at each of them before answering.
“A private enforcement unit.”
“They don’t officially exist.”
Kim folded her arms.
“What do they do?”
“They solve problems for people who don’t want their names connected to violence.”
The room fell silent.
Zara understood immediately.
“They’re hired.”
“Yes.”
“And expensive.”
Ronan placed the mirror carefully on the table.
“If they’re involved…”
“…then whoever orchestrated your brother’s death had resources far beyond the Dominion.”
The implications settled heavily over the room.
Everything they had uncovered pointed in the same direction.
The Syndicate had never been the true source of power.
It had been a tool.
A shield protecting someone wealthier.
Someone untouchable.
Or so they believed.
Ronan closed his notebook.
“We’re running out of time.”
“Trial Three isn’t just another race.”
He looked directly at Zara.
“I think they’re expecting you to enter that tunnel…”
“…and never come out.”
Zara met his gaze without hesitation.
“Then we’ll make sure they’re the ones caught by surprise.”
Outside, thunder rolled across the darkening sky as crews prepared the motorcycles for the next Trial.
Hidden in the executive tower, Marcus watched security footage from the freight district.
The corner of his mouth lifted into a faint smile.
Zara had found the mirror.
Exactly as he intended.
The game had entered its next phase.
And for the first time, the hunter and the hunted were walking toward the same trap—each believing they understood the rules better than the other.