The woman in the black coat stood still in the foyer, water dripping from her sleeves, her face unreadable.
She looked like someone who hadn't spoken to anyone in a long time.
And definitely not someone who dropped in for a casual visit.
Alex couldn't take his eyes off the flash drive she held.
"You said you knew my father," he said slowly. "Who are you?"
She met his gaze.
"My name is Celeste Vale," she said. "I worked with Daniel Marlowe during the final years of his life. Your father trusted me with secrets—secrets that, if revealed, would destroy the people who killed him."
Alex's heart skipped.
"And you've just been… hiding?"
She didn't flinch. "Surviving."
In the study, she sat at the edge of the armchair, her posture military-straight, while the others gathered: Ava, Lana, and Elizabeth. No one said a word while Alex loaded the flash drive into his laptop.
The files inside weren't just documents.
They were confessions.
Videos. Audio recordings. Signed testimonies. Evidence of bribes, offshore accounts, and even military-grade operations carried out by Winslow & Tarkin across half a dozen unstable regions.
Celeste spoke as Alex clicked through them.
"Your father knew what Winslow & Tarkin really was. Not just a firm—but a shadow syndicate. They backed coups. Sabotaged elections. Manipulated currencies. Daniel tried to expose them. He didn't get far."
"And the others?" Ava asked, arms crossed. "The men who helped him?"
"Dead," Celeste said simply. "Or disappeared."
Alex closed the laptop slowly.
"And my mother?"
Celeste finally looked away.
"She was the only person Daniel truly trusted. She didn't know all the names, but she knew enough. Hale and the others have wanted her silenced for decades. She only survived because she kept her head down. But when you stepped into the spotlight… they took notice again."
Alex's jaw tightened. "And now she's leverage."
Celeste nodded once.
"They won't kill her yet. Not until they know how much she told you."
Lana leaned forward. "Then we have a window."
Alex looked at all of them.
Celeste. Ava. Lana. Elizabeth.
Four people.
Four lives.
And only one shot to get this right.
"Where are they keeping her?" he asked.
Celeste reached into her coat and pulled out a folded map.
"I intercepted one of their dead drops last month. This is one of Hale's safehouses. Outside the city. Near a quarry. Remote. Minimal access. You'll need to go in quiet."
"And if she's not there?"
Celeste's voice was calm.
"She will be. Hale likes to keep his enemies close. Especially when he's trying to decide what kind of message to send."
The mission started before sunrise.
Alex changed into dark clothes, trading his tailored suit for a fitted jacket and boots. Ava joined him, strapping a compact firearm to her side.
"You don't have to come," he told her.
She shot him a look. "I'm not letting you walk into a trap alone."
Lana handed him a radio earpiece. "We'll be your eyes. If anything goes sideways, I'm calling in extraction."
Elizabeth stood by the SUV with a pair of keys in hand. "And I'll keep the engine running."
For a moment, Alex looked at all of them—and felt something strange.
Not power.
Not fear.
Gratitude.
He had people now.
People who chose to stand beside him, not because they had to—but because they believed in him.
He didn't say it out loud.
But they saw it in his eyes.
Then he and Ava climbed into the second vehicle and drove off into the fading night.
The road to the quarry was long and cracked, flanked by dead trees and rusted fencing. Fog clung low to the ground, and the sky hung heavy with storm clouds.
The safehouse was a concrete shell tucked behind a ridge, partially built into the side of a hill. No lights. No obvious guards.
But Alex could feel it.
They were inside.
He parked half a mile away, then he and Ava moved the rest on foot.
They crouched behind an old tractor trailer as they scanned the perimeter.
"One camera," Ava whispered. "East wall. Motion-based."
Alex nodded. "We disable it, we move. Quiet and fast."
They timed their move perfectly.
The camera blinked once, its lens rotating toward the left.
Ava moved like a shadow, crossed the open ground, and jammed the lens with a small, adhesive device. Static crackled through their radios.
"Camera down," Lana confirmed.
They moved.
Slipped in through the service entrance, down a tight hallway lined with metal shelves and cracked cement walls.
Every step made Alex's heart pound harder.
They turned a corner—and froze.
Two guards.
Standing outside a steel door.
Talking.
Armed.
Ava gave him a look.
I've got left. You take right.
They moved together.
Two soft impacts. Two collapses.
No alarms.
No noise.
Alex stepped over the bodies and reached for the door handle.
Locked.
He turned to Ava.
She pulled a thin tool from her belt, jammed it into the panel, and twisted. The lock hissed open.
The door creaked.
Inside was a small, dimly lit room.
And on a chair in the corner, arms tied gently—like they didn't want bruises—was his mother.
Alex's breath caught.
"Mom," he whispered.
She looked up slowly.
At first, her face was confused. Tired.
Then her eyes widened.
"Alex?"
He rushed forward, pulling her into his arms, feeling the tremble in her shoulders. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "I knew you'd come."
Ava kept her back to them, watching the hallway.
"We need to go. Now."
They moved fast.
Out the same way they came.
Every step closer to the exit made Alex feel lighter.
Until—
"Hold it."
Four men blocked the service exit.
Guns raised.
Victor Hale stepped out from behind them.
His voice was calm, almost amused.
"Alexander. What a surprise."
Alex stepped in front of his mother, shielding her.
"You're done, Hale."
Victor tilted his head. "You think this ends with you rescuing mommy dearest? No, no. That's not how this story goes."
Ava raised her gun. "You take one more step—"
Victor lifted a small remote from his pocket.
"I'm not here to fight," he said. "I'm here to warn you."
Alex stared at the device.
"What is that?"
Victor smiled.
"It's proof that you have no idea how deep this goes."
He pressed a button.
A faint beep echoed behind the safehouse wall.
Then silence.
Alex turned toward the sound—and saw a second door sliding open.
Inside was a single metal briefcase. Alone. Lit by a harsh white light.
Victor's smile grew wider.
"Your father didn't just betray us, Alex. He stole from us."
"What's in the case?" Alex asked.
"Everything," Victor said. "The names. The accounts. The weapon blueprints. The real empire."
Alex took a step toward it, but Victor shook his head.
"Careful. It's rigged. One wrong move—and everyone here dies."
He turned slowly, walking back into the darkness.
"But don't worry," he called over his shoulder, "You've just been invited to the real game. And now… everyone you love is on the board."
The shadows swallowed him whole.
And Alex stood frozen between the briefcase and his mother—realizing that this wasn't just a rescue.
It was the beginning of war.