Forty Eight

Forty Eight
"CALCULATED RISK"

Eagan's POV

The phone rings again, for the third time in an hour. I look at the display — another burner number from my Milan network.
“Report,” I reply, looking at Astrid sleeping next to me in the passenger seat as Liam takes us through mountain pass.

“Zurich target is a go,” my contact tells me. "Traveling with six men. Heavily armed."

"Destination?"

"Working on it. But there's something else. One of your men didn't report in—Marcus."

I process this. Marcus, he’s aware of the way we pull people out. Who handled communications. Who knew our safe house locations.

"Find him. Priority one."

"Found already," grimly says my contact. "In his apartment. Throat cut. Professional job."

"When?"

"ME puts it at two days ago. "Before we killed them in the chalet."

"Sweep the place. Every device, every surface."

"Already done. Discover something intriguing on his laptop. Some encrypted files, but we managed to get in. Consistently big payments from abroad. Going back six months."

My jaw tightens. “Push everything to my secure server.”

I end the call, mind racing. "Marcus' been leaking out information to somebody for months. Ever since before the sale in which I got Astrid. To be “struggling with their weight” as a woman “and what society is expecting of them”?

"Problem?" “What if people find out?” Liam asks, gazing at the serpentine road ahead.

"Marcus was compromised."

His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. "For how long?"

"Long enough. Pull in at the next available safe stop. I need to access the files."

20 minutes later, we stop in a predetermined place. The car eases to a stop and Astrid wakes.

"Where are we?" she mumbles, disoriented.

"Secure point," I tell her. "Stay with Liam."

I look through Marcus's computer files in private. Bank statements that reveal regular deposits from shell companies I swiftly track down to Kairos Brotherhood investments. Emails using coded language about “the package” and “bloodline verification.”

Even worse are the files from doctors’ and Google searches: detailed genetic studies about rare blood markers that correspond to Astrid’s profile. Covers experimental treatments produced from the same genetic material. The newest file has a short message:
Confirmation received. The Sage girl has an heir of Kings. Proceed to Phase Two.

I shut the laptop, cold-eyed with fury. They’ve been watching her long before I even knew she existed. You use my own people against me.

As I get back into the car, Astrid looks at me. "What's wrong?"

"Change of plans. Liam, contact the airfield. I want that jet to be ready in one hour.”

"Sir? What about the coordinates?"

"We're still going. But not directly. “They are going to be looking at all avenues.”

I spread out a satellite map between us. “The coords are to a destination in the northern mountains. Remote, difficult terrain. One way in, and a clearly observed one at that.”

"So how do we get there?" Astrid asks.

"We don't. Not yet." There are three spots I mark on the map. “And we send decoys to provoke surveillance first. Then we come from a different direction.”

“The ravine,” Liam says, following the tight passage with his finger. “Tough climb but unpatrolled!”

“They’re observing roads and airspace — we’ll come from underneath.

I see Astrid's eyes look to the path I've laid out. “At least a day’s walk in very rough countryside.”

“This is what you trained for,” I tell her. "Are you ready?"
The decision in her eyes already responds before she says anything. "Yes."

Less than an hour later, we’re in the air. I spend the rest of the flight making Astrid study everything we know about the Sage family history, territory maps, known associates.

“Remember these faces,” I say, pointing to photos of the well-known players. “Anybody you had any association with in your family. Anybody who might know you."

She takes it all in, with the most amazing concentration. “What are we even looking for at those coordinates?”

"The Sages are said to have kept a secret vault. Financial records, weapons, a blackmail file — everything required to restore power in the event of disaster.”

"And you believe the coordinates lead there? This vault?"

It’s also the only logical explanation. Your mother intended for you to find it when the time was right.”

She fingers the locket. “But how would she know I’d get this? That I'd survive at all?"

"She made arrangements. Sister Grace. The orphanage on Sage land. Your name alone a signpost for those who knew where to look.”

"And you think Ren knows about the vault as well?

"Marcus had been giving the Kairos Brotherhood intelligence for months. If they found out about the locket, the coordinates…”

“Then they’ll just have to wait for us,” she concludes.

The plane touches down at a private airstrip in the mountains. From there we ride in different vehicles—decoys moving in the other direction as we switch to special gear for the ravine approach.

We head up as night begins to fall. It’s surprising how quick Astrid it, mirroring my movements through this treacherous bit of landscape. We hike in six hours of challenging terrain to a small ledge below the coordinates.

“Rest,” I tell him, and index our location. "One hour, then we continue."

She sits down next to me, her heat radiating through multiple layers of tactical gear. “Do you ever wonder,” she murmurs, “if some things are meant to be? Predetermined?"

"No. I create my own destiny."

“Then what about this?” She gestures between us. You and you, buying me in that auction. My bloodline. This child. The words stamped on my locket.

I take her inquiry seriously. Men of power manoeuvre things to get their way. You didn’t just happen to be at that auction — you were placed there. Who, and for what purpose, is what we are trying to figure out.”

"And us? Was that orchestrated too?"

The question dangles between us, weightier than she seems to realize. I never trusted fate, only power as it is and can be wielded. But something in the way we are connected doesn’t add up.

“Some results,” I finally tell her, “outstrip their design.”

Before she can answer, my secured mobile buzzes. Liam.
“Three vehicles coming in toward the main road,” he says. "Men with guns setting up positions around the perimeters."

"Identification?"

"Mixed group. Some Kairos, some unknown. They’re establishing positions as if they’re expecting something.

"Or someone. Hold position. If they make a move toward that ravine, report it."

We climb again after our short break, we make it to the position a few minutes before dawn. The place looks uninspiring- a rock face like millions of others.

“There’s nothing here,” Astrid says, her frustration plain.

I search the area in an orderly way. There's not going to be any clear markers. Find the rocks that don’t match the other rocks in the pattern.”

We run till Astrid says quietly, "Here. The stone texture changes."

She's right. Another part of the rock surface is masterfully disguised. I trace my finger along the seam, discovering a tiny, near-hidden groove.

"The key," I tell her.

She takes the small key from her locket, her hand steady as she inserts it into the secret lock. A soft click, then silence.
“Nothing’s going on,” she whispers.

"Wait."

Gradually a rocky section slides inwards to reveal a narrow corridor. I flip on a tactical light, and it reveals roughly hewn stairs going down into darkness.

"Follow me," I command, pulling my gun out.

The passage leads into a chamber hewn from the mountain. As our lights pan across the space, details become clear — racks of weapons mounted along one wall. Filing cabinets. A massive safe. Curio cases with something like family treasures.

“They’re here,” Astrid exhales. "The Sage vault."

First, I close the door and then perform a systematic inventory of the contents. The weapons are good weapons which have been stopped for years properly. The files hold the deeds to property, account numbers, blackmail on every leading family in Love Island City.

“Enough leverage to build an empire,” I note.

Astrid goes and looks into one of the display cases to read the inscription on a silver box. Her hand shakes a little when she opens it, and inside, sitting atop the simple card containing the barely postmarked check, is a chunky signet ring embossed with the Sage family crest.

“My grandfather’s,” she whispers, slipping it on her thumb — the only finger that will fit. "I can feel them here. My family."

Where she’s in touch with her roots, I open the safe with the combination found in a secret compartment. Rather, they reveal the actual scale of Sage holdings — far greater than it has publicly admitted. Offshore accounts. Real estate under shell companies. And most importantly, research notes on the Sage genetic mishap.

This is what they’re really after, I realize as I scan the data from my labs. “Your family was creating treatments out of your own genetics. Experimental treatments for otherwise intractable conditions.”

“Becoming too addictive to the powerful or the desperate,” Astrid concludes.

“A billion-dollar market,” yes, I agree. “And now you’re the only game in town.”

She takes this in, comprehension breaking through. "And our child with blood on both his mother's and his father's sides..."

"A different genetic program altogether. Specialised maybe even more valuable.”

Our eyes lock in mutual recognition of the real stakes. This goes beyond land or revenge. It’s the battle for control of a biological resource that has the potential to reshape power structures worldwide.

I collect the most important papers. "We take what we can carry. Destroy the rest."

Astrid is rummaging through family heirlooms as my phone vibrates: the perimeter alarm from our approach route.
Surveillance video captures several cars driving up and down.
"Tact:" Professional tactical deploys at their best.

“Time to go,” I say, already working out exit strategies.

“There is no other way out,” she protests.

"There's always another way."

Just as we are about to execute what we hope will be our escape, the satellite phone rings. Unknown number.

I respond through speaker, weapon in hand.

“Did you seriously think I wasn’t aware of the vault?” It’s an exultant chortling in Ren’s voice. “And she’s not the only one with Sage blood. Meet your brother-in-law.”