Truth That Cuts Deeper Than Bullets
The office door opened softly.
Vermouth stepped inside, already preparing a teasing remark—
but the words died in her throat.
Jodie rushed forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her.
"Auntie…!"
Vermouth stiffened for a fraction of a second—then relaxed.
"I'm sorry," Jodie choked.
"I tried to kill you. I hated you for years… I—"
Vermouth raised a hand and gently patted Jodie's head, the way she once did when Jodie was small.
"You're my brother's child," Vermouth said quietly.
"I will protect you. Always."
Jodie broke down completely then, crying into her shoulder.
Vermouth's eyes softened—but when she looked up at Keith, they sharpened again.
"You didn't call her here just for a reunion," she said calmly.
Keith nodded.
"No."
He gestured to the sofa.
"Sit. Both of you."
They did.
Keith activated the screen embedded in the desk. Two profiles appeared.
FBI AGENT:
Daniel Ross Michelle Carter
Jodie leaned forward.
"I know them," she said immediately.
"Elite field agents. Clean records. Multiple successful operations. Trusted."
Keith smiled faintly.
"Impressive reputations," he agreed.
Then the screen shifted.
Two new profiles appeared—dark, classified, marked in red.
BLACK ORGANIZATION:
Barolo Sauternes
Vermouth's expression changed instantly.
"…They're core members," she said.
"Old blood. Absolute loyalty."
Keith folded his hands.
"So," he asked evenly,
"do you think these four people have any connection?"
Jodie and Vermouth both shook their heads.
"No," Jodie said.
"There's no overlap."
Keith tapped the desk once.
The screen changed again.
This time, a single symbol appeared—
a stylized animal emblem.
Under it: SYNDICATE MEMBERSHIP RECORDS
All four names appeared beneath it.
The room went silent.
Jodie stared.
"…That's impossible."
Vermouth's eyes widened, genuine shock breaking through her composure.
"They're all members… of the same syndicate?"
"Yes," Keith replied.
He turned to Jodie.
"The organization responsible for Ethan Hondou's 'death.'"
Jodie's head snapped up.
"Ethan Hondou…?"
"That was—"
"CIA," Keith said.
"And your uncle."
Jodie froze.
"What…?"
Her hands trembled.
"The syndicate," Keith continued,
"was dissolved on paper years ago."
He paused.
"And reborn under a new name."
The screen updated again.
ZOO ORGANIZATION
Vermouth sucked in a sharp breath.
"…Zoo."
Jodie clenched her fists.
"What is Zoo?" she demanded.
Keith's voice was calm—but deadly.
"An organization where every member uses animal code names.
Predators, scavengers, parasites."
He looked directly at her.
"They are the ones who killed Andrew Starling."
Jodie's breath hitched.
"And," Keith added quietly,
"they are the ones who orchestrated Ethan Hondou's death."
Jodie's eyes burned with rage.
Vermouth's fingers dug into the sofa.
"They frame others," Keith went on.
"They commit assassinations, intelligence leaks, destabilization—
and then throw the blame onto another organization, turning them into shields."
Vermouth looked at him sharply.
"Don't tell me—"
Keith nodded once.
"They did it to us."
The words hit like a gunshot.
"Andrew Starling," Keith said,
"was killed by Zoo."
"They pinned it on the Black Organization."
Vermouth looked down, jaw tight.
"…So all these years," she murmured,
"we carried a sin that was never ours."
Jodie trembled with fury.
"I hunted the wrong enemy," she whispered.
"I hated the people who saved me… and let the real killers walk free."
Keith stood.
"That ends now."
He looked at both of them—his eyes cold, precise, unshakable.
"Zoo has been hiding behind our shadows for too long."
A faint, dangerous smile touched his lips.
"And predators who borrow another's claws…
die screaming when the real owner comes back."