Behind the Veil
In a secluded corner of the café, a man sat waiting. His carefully disheveled appearance was a common disguise for intelligence operatives. Dominic Falk, code-named “Crow,” stirred his coffee absentmindedly, though his sharp, green eyes tracked every newcomer. When Mila approached, he didn’t rise, but his fingers stopped stirring. A faint smile touched his lips.
“You came alone,” she said, sliding into the seat opposite him. Her voice was velvet smooth, though her eyes betrayed flickers of suspicion.
“You wouldn’t have come otherwise,” Dominic replied, leaning back. “Though I notice you’ve brought your favorite accessory.” His gaze flickered to the burgundy handbag. To an untrained eye, it was an ordinary luxury accessory; to him, it was an electronically shielded carrier, likely concealing more than just lipstick.
“Trust is a currency I prefer not to gamble,” Mila quipped. Her tone was lighter, almost playful, though the tension between them was palpable. “You said you had something… delicate.”
Dominic handed her a small, folded piece of paper, seemingly unassuming. The world had gone digital, but some information was too dangerous to leave any traceable imprint. Mila unfolded it and froze. Her precise expression faltered for a microsecond as her piercing eyes scanned the hastily written words: They know. ELARA is compromised.
This was not a message; it was a death sentence.
A Shadow in Red
Outside the café, Mila’s calm façade betrayed no sign of the storm brewing within her. ELARA, the covert organization for which she operated, had always been unassailable—or so she thought. If it was compromised, every agent would be a target, every mission a trap.
She wrapped the paper tightly in her glove and discarded it into a nearby trash can. Within seconds, the synthetic ink had already dissolved, leaving nothing but a clean scrap of parchment behind. Had this been a setup? Crow was known for his double dealings, but there was no gain for him if she failed to act on this intel. Unless, of course, his endgame was chaos.
Mila dropped her burgundy handbag to the ground under a flickering lamppost. Casually, she stepped back as a shadow darted toward her—a silent figure clad in black, armed with a thin-bladed dagger. Her assailant had aimed for precision, but Mila was faster. In one smooth motion, she drove her stiletto heel into their foot with an audible crunch and twisted their wrist, forcing them to drop the blade. The figure crumpled to the ground with a guttural growl.
“If you were sent to kill me, you’ll have to do better than that,” she murmured before walking away, retrieving her bag without so much as a glance back. She knew there would be more. They would come for her, day and night. ELARA’s secrets ran too deep, and she had just become the guardian of them all.
The Game Begins
As Mila disappeared into the labyrinth of the city, Dominic watched from a distance, his hands deep in the pockets of his trench coat. A seedy figure joined him, handing him a phone with encrypted messages. Dominic read through them grimly.
“She knows they’re hunting her now,” he said under his breath. “That should buy us some time.”
The other man shifted nervously. “But how long before she realizes you’re the one who set this in motion?”
Dominic smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it. “By then, it won’t matter. The game will be over.”
Unseen by either of them, Mila had traced their movements to a corner alley, her red turtleneck like a beacon in the gloom. She narrowed her eyes. If she was to survive this game of shadows, there could be no allies—not even Dominic. Especially not Dominic.
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