Cole's expression tightened the moment the news landed.
"Is Vegh a mole?"
It wasn't paranoia — it was instinct. The explanation she'd given Owen didn't ring clean. An intelligence analyst "just happening" to escape while everyone else died? That wasn't luck. That was design.
"Or she's a mole," Cole said again, quieter this time.
Owen exhaled sharply. "I'm not sure. But you're thinking exactly what I'm thinking."
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. "It felt like she came back just to deliver a message — like she wanted me to stop pushing."
Cole leaned forward. "How did she end up with you in the first place?"
Owen's jaw tightened. "I tore through a criminal organization years back. She was working their network security. I spared her. After I left the Service, I recruited her."
"Because she was that good?"
"She was better than Lester," Owen admitted. "That's how she stole the list. That's how she got me intel nobody else could scrape."
Cole went still.
Cipher.
The ghost in every mainframe. The hacker who could hijack anything with a signal. A world-class manipulator who lived inside the networks of nations.
And Vegh was a hacker.
The thought sharpened into a conclusion.
Cipher planted her.
Cipher wanted eyes on Owen.
Cipher wanted the chips.
And Vegh alone walked away untouched. Too clean. Too convenient.
"Don't contact Vegh again," Cole said, voice firm. "Jace — you and Owen get to work. Synthesize the Night Shadow system."
He passed Owen the final chip component and motioned Jason Tate over.
⸻⸻
Inside the Ghost Plane
Above the clouds, an invisible aircraft drifted through the sky — not cloaked, but untraceable. Its signature didn't reflect, didn't ping, didn't echo off radar or satellites. It simply wasn't there.
Inside, Cipher stood in a fitted suit, blonde ponytail sharp, eyes colder than code itself.
Kneeling in front of her was Vegh.
Exactly as Cole had feared — Cipher's embedded operative.
After learning Owen and Cole had secured all three chip components, Cipher made her move. Her team killed everyone Owen left behind in Barcelona. Letty was "rescued" — collateral for leverage. Vegh survived because she was meant to survive.
And the call she made? Not emotional. Not accidental.
A trace attempt.
"Nothing," Vegh reported, head lowered. "No exact location. Only that it's somewhere in the Sahara."
Cipher's lips curved. The smile was beautiful and terrifying.
"Fascinating. Cole Shaw continues to surprise me."
Her heels clicked as she stepped toward the holographic map.
"Just like last time — no footprint, no trace, no metadata. And again, he ends up in the Sahara."
Her voice carried the irritation of someone accustomed to omnipotence. Cipher built empires on stolen secrets. She dismantled governments with keystrokes. She could hunt anyone.
Except Cole Shaw — twice now.
"When he intersected with Deckard Shaw, I looked into him," Cipher continued. "He stole Rabbit's Foot and caught my attention. I hired the Continental to test him. They couldn't locate him for a week."
The contract expired. Cipher checked again — still nothing. No digital trail.
And that alone made Cole more dangerous than either of his older brothers.
"Cipher, there's a video clip you'll want to see," Vegh said suddenly.
"Show me."
The footage played: a tunnel, a Humvee, an armoured vehicle — and a mounted silver device firing a pulse of dark-blue energy that tore the armoured vehicle apart.
Cole versus Luke Hobbs.
Cipher's eyes locked on the weapon.
Nightshade paralysed power grids. EMP weapons could shut down military bases. But this? This was refined destruction — reproducible, scalable, weaponizable.
Exactly her type.
"Whose vehicle?" Cipher asked.
"Cole Shaw's," Vegh answered.
Cipher's smile sharpened to a blade.
"Him again. Looks like it's time I met this man."
She turned away. "Separate Dominic, Brian, and Letty. Isolate them. And bring me their closest family members."
"Yes, Cipher."
She admired Dominic and Brian's driving artistry. They were specialists in vehicular heists — talent she could weaponize.
And leverage? Even better.
⸻⸻
Round Table base, Sahara Desert
Cole waited until Owen and Jace moved toward the engineering bay with the chip components before stepping aside and switching his comm channel.
He connected to Jacob Croft — the Continental's Africa Representative.
Croft answered almost immediately, voice cool and dry as ever.
After hearing Cole's request, Croft let out a low laugh.
"You're efficient, Mr. Shaw. And you truly need me to handle something this minor? Your mother could clear this with a single call."
Cole smirked. "My mother's favours aren't something you burn on routine paperwork. What about your assignment? Has the High Table thrown an S-class your way yet?"
"S-levels don't grow on trees," Croft replied. "But it's coming. They'll want a justification to push heat in my direction."
"How long?"
"A month, give or take."
Cole nodded. "Fine. I'll wait."
Croft continued, "Send a representative to the Continental in Casablanca in two days. I'll have the documentation prepared — clean, legitimate, airtight."
"Thanks, Croft."
"Mutual benefit," Croft said. "Just don't give me a reason to regret backing you."