At the target location, Owen quietly got out of the car after checking his weapons.
"Sugarhead, where is it?"
"To your left, the two-story building..."
Nikki's voice came through the comms. She had first used GPS to track the assassin from the Core Group, who had frequented this location. Then she pulled the past few days of street surveillance footage and confirmed that each time Cheby Dan arrived, he would go into the building on the left.
The area was a retirement community—clearly populated mostly by elderly residents.
Owen circled the two-story building once. All the windows were covered with curtains; he couldn't see inside.
"Owen, there's probably no one inside anymore..."
Nikki's voice came again. Owen had just reached the back door and was peeking through the glass. It was quiet inside—indeed, it didn't feel like anyone was home.
"How do you know?"
"I pulled video footage from the last few days. The morning of the bombing, a group of people left the house and never came back. No one's been in or out since. Also, I've confirmed from the footage that Makarov was present. That confirms Cheby Dan is Makarov's man."
At the back door, Owen used a paperclip to unlock the door and carefully stepped inside, gun raised.
There was a faint smell of blood in the air, mixed with the stench of decay. Owen searched the rooms one by one—empty. He climbed the stairs to check the second floor.
The old wooden stairs creaked loudly under his weight. If anyone was upstairs, they'd have heard him coming. But all remained quiet.
After a thorough search, Owen confirmed no one was there. Only in the bathroom's bathtub did he find two bodies—an elderly couple, presumably the original homeowners.
The odor clearly came from their decomposing bodies. Flies buzzed around, the scene nauseating.
Owen inspected the bedrooms on the second floor before returning downstairs. The Core Group must've used this place as a temporary safe house—and killed the homeowners for it.
"No one's here, Nikki. Can you track where they went after leaving that morning?"
"No. I tried. Surveillance coverage in the Philippines is terrible. Lots of blind spots. They obviously knew that and used it to their advantage."
Owen frowned. Understandable—these people were pros. Evading cameras was basic tradecraft.
He scanned the area for any clues, but it seemed the Core Group had cleaned up thoroughly before leaving. Nothing useful.
Eventually, he stopped in front of a whiteboard. Faint traces showed it had once had writing, now erased. He pressed his face close, but couldn't make out anything.
This wasn't a common household item—clearly brought in by the Core Group.
Thinking quickly, Owen found some ash on the windowsill. He scooped it up and gently blew it across the whiteboard.
The dust swirled in the air, settled slowly—and gradually revealed traces of writing.
Carefully reading the faint outlines, Owen recognized a rough map and a name: Dmitri Pavlovich.
"Check this guy out for me."
He sent the name to Nikki. He was sure this wasn't an ordinary person—he wouldn't be on the Core Group's radar otherwise. What did Makarov want with him?
Owen waited quietly for Nikki's response.
She didn't disappoint. In no time, she had the results.
"Owen, I found him. Dmitri Pavlovich, former Soviet nuclear expert. Personally developed second- and third-generation nuclear control systems. After the USSR collapsed, he moved to Ukraine. But when their military broke down, he was left without a role again. Latest intel says he's currently in Istanbul, Turkey..."
Someone of Pavlovich's level would naturally be on every intelligence agency's radar. CIA had detailed files on him—even recent sightings.
But just as Nikki was speaking, her face suddenly froze. She heard something over the police scanner in her earpiece:
"Units 2 and 3, this is Detective Schrock from Homicide. Surround Green Leaf Hotel. No one is allowed to leave. Target is a single foreign female, wearing glasses, carrying a laptop..."
Nikki jolted. She rushed to the window and saw two teams of officers surrounding her hotel. A group of black-suited men led others through the front entrance.
"Nikki, what's going on?"
Hearing Nikki go silent mid-sentence, Owen asked anxiously.
"Owen, I've been made. The police are here. I can't support you anymore…"
Nikki spoke as she activated the emergency purge protocol on her laptop. Files began deleting, and smoke hissed from the machine.
BOOM~~
Almost simultaneously, the door was kicked open. Armed Filipino SWAT stormed in, red laser dots instantly covering Nikki. She didn't dare move and surrendered.
"Miss Jolie, cease resistance. This is the Manila Police Department. You are formally under arrest for suspicion of murder. Also, your accomplice—Matt Damon—where is he?"
The comms were still active. Owen heard everything. Murder charges? That meant the bodies at the hotel—Cheby and the CIA agent—had been discovered.
Even though Nikki had deleted the footage, the police still managed to track her this quickly. Apparently, the local authorities weren't as incompetent as they seemed.
Then the line cut. Nikki was fully subdued. Owen knew they would come for him next.
He jumped into action. Opened the car door, started the engine, and drove to a remote area. Slums like these had no surveillance—perfect for cleaning up traces.
He couldn't keep the car. If police pulled road surveillance, they'd find it. Owen left the car parked in a shady alley, didn't even take the keys. He knew it would be gone soon—probably stripped for parts by local gangs.
…
Outside Green Leaf Hotel, police led Nikki out in handcuffs. Across the street, Jericho Rosales smirked as he watched her.
Ten minutes earlier, a high-profile assassination had rocked the city. Business tycoon Parra had been taken out by a killer using UZI and grenades—executed with brutal precision.
With the American ambassador's recent assassination still fresh, the Manila police force was in full crisis mode. Every available unit was mobilized.
Eyewitnesses described the attacker as a young foreign woman. This matched the suspects from the Spring Hotel double homicide a few days earlier: a European couple.
Investigators started canvassing places frequented by foreigners, showing restored surveillance stills to locals. By chance, one of them happened to find Jericho Rosales.
He immediately recognized the woman in the photo—it was the same one who had humiliated him earlier. He wasted no time playing the good citizen and reported Nikki's location to the police, leading to her arrest.
(End of Chapter)
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