The rain didn't let up for the rest of the night. By the time Emily and Claire made it back to the hideout, their coats clung to their skin, water pooling in the cracks of the wooden floor as they stepped inside. No one spoke. The silence in the safehouse had shifted from wary to suffocating, the kind of quiet that meant people had started thinking about escape.
Emily closed the door behind her and leaned against it, staring into the dimly lit room. Faces turned toward her — Daniel's, tense but unreadable; two young recruits huddled together by the stove; an older woman with her hands wrapped around a chipped mug, eyes fixed on the floor. The air smelled faintly of boiled potatoes and damp wool.
Claire peeled off her wet jacket and tossed it over a chair. "We have a problem," she said flatly.
Daniel's gaze sharpened. "Another one?"
"Bigger," Emily said. She stepped forward, letting her voice carry, but not enough to reach the rooms beyond. "Lukas is the leak. Kane's been holding his mother."
The words hung there, heavy. No one gasped, no one spoke. They just absorbed it, the way people absorb bad weather — with resignation, because they knew it would come eventually.
Daniel finally broke the silence. "Then we end it. We take him in before—"
"No." Emily's tone cut him off. "We're not executing a man for being used as a weapon. If Kane can force Lukas, he can force anyone. We deal with the cause, not the symptom."
Claire crossed her arms. "You're talking about going after Kane's holding sites."
"I'm talking about breaking his grip entirely," Emily said. She moved to the table in the center of the room and spread out the map of the city. Rainwater dripped from her sleeves onto the paper, smudging the ink, but she didn't care. "Lukas's mother is at this warehouse." She tapped the industrial district. "If Kane has others, they're spread across multiple sites — places close enough to control but hidden enough to avoid patrols."
Daniel shook his head. "We can't hit them all at once."
"Then we don't," Emily replied. "We hit the one that matters most. We make Kane understand that hostages aren't leverage anymore. Once the rest see that, maybe they'll stop bending to him."
Claire studied her. "And if we're wrong? If the rest just… die because we can't reach them in time?"
Emily met her eyes. "Then we take that risk. Because doing nothing guarantees the same outcome — just slower."
There was no argument after that. Only the sound of rain against the roof and the low hiss of the stove.
By midnight, they were ready.
The plan was rough, stitched together in the space of a few hours. Claire would take a two-person team to create a distraction on the south side of the district, drawing out as many of Kane's guards as possible. Daniel would stay behind to coordinate from the safehouse, monitoring any signals they could intercept. Emily would lead the infiltration herself.
It wasn't trust that made her take the most dangerous role. It was necessity. If this failed, she wanted the failure to land on her.
She left the hideout with two others — Marcus, broad-shouldered and steady, and Ana, wiry and quiet, with eyes that missed nothing. The streets between the safehouse and the warehouse were slick and empty, save for the occasional hum of a distant generator. Somewhere far away, the echo of gunfire rolled across the city, muffled by the rain.
When they reached the perimeter, Emily crouched behind a stack of rusted crates. The warehouse loomed above them, its windows dark, its doors locked with chains thick enough to stop a truck.
Marcus whispered, "Two guards at the west entrance, one patrolling the east."
Ana nodded toward the roof. "And one sniper."
Emily's heartbeat stayed steady. Fear had a way of sharpening her focus. "Marcus, you take the patrol. Ana, you're with me on the west side. Quiet."
The first guard didn't see her coming. She moved like water — fluid, without hesitation — her hand clamping over his mouth as she drove the knife under his ribs. She eased him to the ground as his body went slack, her breath fogging in the cold air. Ana was just as quick, silencing the second before he could even reach for his weapon.
They slipped inside.
The air inside the warehouse was stale, heavy with the scent of mold and oil. Shadows stretched across the floor, broken only by the thin beams of light slipping through cracks in the roof. Somewhere deeper in the building, Emily heard the faint hum of a generator, the quiet murmur of voices.
She followed the sound, her boots barely making a sound on the concrete.
They found the hostages in a room at the far end — six of them, chained to metal chairs, their eyes hollow with exhaustion. Lukas's mother was there, head bowed, her breathing shallow.
Emily moved fast, cutting through the chains with the bolt cutters they'd brought. Marcus kept watch at the door while Ana checked for injuries.
When Emily touched the woman's shoulder, her head lifted — and her lips curled into a smile that didn't belong on someone rescued.
Emily froze.
"Too easy," the woman said. Her voice was wrong — deeper, colder.
The next moment, the lights in the warehouse blazed to life, and the sound of boots thundered against the floor. Marcus swore. Ana raised her weapon.
They were surrounded.
Kane stepped out from behind the doorway, his coat dry despite the rain outside, his eyes locked on Emily's. "You've been chasing shadows, Emily," he said. "I decided it was time you saw the real picture."
He gestured toward the woman in the chair. "This? This is nothing but bait. Lukas was never your leak. The one you've been protecting, the one you've been confiding in… they've been mine from the start."
Emily's stomach dropped. She didn't want to believe it — but she saw the truth in his smirk. And the moment he stepped aside, she saw who emerged from the shadows.