The safehouse smelled like burnt coffee and exhaustion.
Leo paced while Daniela sat at the kitchen table, trying to stay calm. Duncan was late. Again.
When he finally arrived, his face was tight, his coat damp from the rain outside. He didn't bother with pleasantries.
"I've got something," Duncan said.
Eleanor perked up immediately. "What kind of something?"
Duncan dropped a file on the table — thick, confidential, still warm from the copy machine.
"Elijah Monroe," Duncan said. "Corporate attorney. He handles a lot of Santos' shell companies — technically legit, but laundering billions in foreign contracts."
Leo let out a low whistle. "That's how he's hiding it."
"Elijah is smart," Duncan continued. "But more importantly — he's scared. Federal investigators sniffed too close last year. Santos bailed him out, but Elijah knows one misstep and he's next."
Daniela's eyes narrowed. "You think he'll flip?"
"I think he already wants to."
Eleanor leaned forward, cautious. "Or Santos is baiting us again."
Duncan didn't argue. "That's why we handle this quietly. No cops. No official channels. Just us."
Eleanor exhaled. "We're building our own task force now?"
Duncan cracked a tired smile. "Apparently."
They found Elijah Monroe outside his luxury downtown office.
He walked fast, always glancing over his shoulder. The paranoia was palpable.
When Eleanor and Duncan intercepted him in the parking garage, his face drained of color.
"I-I don't know you," Elijah stammered.
"We know you," Duncan said, voice low. "And we know exactly what you've been doing."
Elijah glanced around desperately. "You shouldn't be here—"
Eleanor stepped closer, calm but deadly serious. "Santos won't protect you forever. You know that."
Elijah's breathing grew shallow.
"I... I can't help you. I have nothing—"
Duncan cut him off. "You don't want protection. You want insurance."
That made Elijah freeze.
"You want a deal on your terms," Duncan continued. "So we're giving you one. But only once."
Elijah swallowed, throat dry. "I want my family to be safe."
"They will be," Eleanor promised. "But you give us everything."
For two tense days, they operated under full blackout. Elijah handed over encrypted drives filled with financial data, transaction logs, and correspondence.
Daniela and Leo cross-referenced the data with Hernandez's earlier files. A larger map was emerging — not just Santos' operations but his foreign partners: arms dealers, data brokers, political fixers.
And worse — evidence of moles inside multiple law enforcement agencies.
Duncan stared at one flagged name on the screen, his stomach twisting.
"They've got someone inside Justice."
"That's how they're always three steps ahead," Daniela whispered.
Eleanor clenched her jaw. "It means we can't trust anyone outside this room."
Leo shifted uneasily. "We're in over our heads."
"No," Eleanor said. "We're in it. And now we finish it."
In his penthouse, Santos reviewed his own intelligence reports. His inside man had already informed him about Monroe's betrayal.
Ruiz stood nearby, uneasy.
"Do we eliminate him?" Ruiz asked.
Santos shook his head, surprisingly calm.
"No."
"But he's feeding them our data—"
"And that's exactly why we let him." Santos smiled coldly. "We feed them what we want them to see."
Ruiz frowned. "You mean disinformation."
Santos poured himself a drink.
"They think they're building a case. But they're chasing shadows. By the time they realize what's real, we'll be untouchable."
He raised his glass.
"Control the board. Control the outcome."
Inside prison, Kayleigh received the latest news through encrypted legal channels.
She read the report carefully. Then burned it in a small metal tray beneath the table.
Across from her, Ruiz's replacement — a younger, more ambitious lieutenant named Caro — waited for instruction.
"Let Santos play his game," Kayleigh said softly.
"But if they succeed—"
"They won't," Kayleigh interrupted. "And if they do... Santos will expose more of his operation than even he realizes. He'll bleed for me without even knowing it."
Caro leaned in. "And the women?"
Kayleigh's expression darkened.
"Eleanor is the pressure point. Daniela is her shield. Break the shield... and Eleanor will fold."
That night, back at the safehouse, Eleanor finally allowed herself a moment to breathe. She stood by the window again, her nightly ritual.
Daniela approached quietly, wrapping her arms around her from behind.
"Don't let them inside your head," Daniela whispered.
"They're already there," Eleanor admitted. "Kayleigh. Santos. It never really stopped."
Daniela kissed her shoulder softly.
"Then we make sure we finish this. No more running."
For the first time in weeks, Eleanor allowed herself to nod.
But as they stood together in the silence, neither noticed the tiny blinking red light on the corner street lamp outside.
A surveillance drone.
Watching. Recording.
Reporting.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued