The villa perched on the cliffs outside Split was the definition of discreet wealth Italian stonework, high security walls, and an unbroken view of the Adriatic. To the untrained eye, it belonged to a retired CEO or an eccentric reclusive aristocrat. But inside, Gavrik, one of Lysander's most trusted logistics coordinators, coordinated dozens of Vega Syndicate shipments across Eastern Europe with chilling efficiency.
He was also the key to flipping the political storm into a strategic win.
But timing was everything.
Split, Croatia
Michael adjusted his earpiece as he crouched in the brush, eyes locked on the thermal silhouettes moving through the villa.
"Six inside," Juliet whispered from her position on overwatch. "Two on patrol. Gavrik is in the eastern wing he hasn't moved in over an hour. Could be asleep."
Magnum's voice crackled through comms. "I'd sleep like a baby too if I had twenty million in stolen tech running through my ports."
"Focus," Michael murmured. "No casualties. In and out. Duval, status?"
From her mobile control point nearby, Isabelle Duval's voice came through steady and low. "Croatian authorities are officially unaware. But my contact says we've got a five-minute window max before a routine coast guard drone sweep hits the area. That's our exfil limit."
Michael signaled the team forward.
Juliet covered the rooftop as Magnum breached the perimeter silently, neutralizing a guard with a chokehold and dragging him into the darkness. Michael slipped through the garden archway, reaching the back corridor of the villa.
Inside, the op played out with practiced precision. They swept room by room, silenced guards, avoided cameras. When they reached Gavrik's quarters, he was still asleep, oblivious.
That didn't last.
He awoke to the muzzle of Juliet's suppressed pistol and Magnum zip-tying his wrists with brutal efficiency.
Michael leaned in. "You're going to tell us everything you know about Lysander. Or you're going to disappear into a hole so dark your own people forget you existed."
Gavrik's eyes flashed with arrogance… until Juliet held up a tablet showing live feed from a secure cloud server every shipping manifest, every encrypted note Chloe had extracted from the Drakon Freight servers.
His defiance cracked.
"You have no idea what you're stepping into," he muttered. "Lysander isn't just one man. He's a doctrine. A system. And you're already inside it."
Michael tightened the zip ties. "Then you'd better start teaching us how it works."
Duval stood by the window as Gavrik sat handcuffed in a reinforced chair, guarded by Magnum. Juliet paced behind Michael, who was reading the first page of Gavrik's dictated intel.
"He's confirming the identity of several shell companies," Michael said. "But there's more. He mentions internal protection says Lysander has eyes inside intelligence services. Not just observers levers."
Juliet crossed her arms. "That matches Chloe's report about the leak from Interpol."
Duval tensed. "I've narrowed it down to two potential suspects. Both had access to the operation logs in the twenty-four hours before the Drakon raid. One of them's stationed in Lyon. The other " she hesitated, " is in Brussels. A senior liaison officer with clearance to every international coordination channel we use."
Michael's expression darkened. "So either we've got a passive leak or an active saboteur."
Duval nodded. "And either way, we can't move until we know which one. If we push too fast, we risk tipping off the mole and losing Gavrik's value."
Juliet leaned forward. "Then we use Gavrik to set a trap."
Over the next 36 hours, Chloe and Duval built a honeypot operation one that involved feeding carefully crafted disinformation to select Interpol channels, tagging each version slightly differently.
The bait: a forged transfer schedule implying Gavrik was being moved from Dubrovnik to a black site in Montenegro.
The response: silence at first.
Then, Chloe pinged the alert.
"The Lyon contact viewed the file but never downloaded it. Safe."
"But the Brussels liaison?" she continued, "He opened it twice. Then attempted to send an encrypted message to a private server in Belgium."
Juliet's eyes lit with vindication. "There's our mole."
Duval didn't blink. "His name's Lucien Drosset. Twenty years in intelligence. No red flags, no debt, no criminal ties. But if Gavrik's right, Lysander doesn't recruit with bribes. He recruits with ideology."
Michael stood. "Then let's break his faith."
As Gavrik continued to give up names and routes, and Lucien Drosset unknowingly stepped into the net, the task force began preparing the next phase of their offensive.
But the pressure was mounting.
Interpol was demanding clarity. Politicians were calling for inquiries. And Lysander's network was beginning to shift in response to Gavrik's disappearance.
Still, the team had momentum.
And more importantly they had control of the narrative again.
Duval stared at a board filled with new leads. "Gavrik's intel will buy us time. But if Drosset's truly embedded in Interpol we'll need to root him out carefully. Quietly. One misstep, and the whole system turns against us."
Michael nodded slowly. "Then we don't give them a misstep."
Juliet added, "No shadows. No guesswork. We make our next move in daylight and we hit harder than ever."
From the shadows of a fractured alliance and a corrupt institution, a new battle was rising.