The destruction of the server farm sent shockwaves through the shadowy world of private intelligence. It also attracted unexpected attention.
Mo Chen received a message, not through normal channels, but via a secure, encrypted data packet that bypassed all her firewalls and appeared directly on her private terminal. It contained no text, only a set of coordinates and a time: a cafe in Zurich, in two days.
Silas argued against it. "It's a trap. Kraken is luring you out."
" Kraken doesn't ask for meetings," Mo Chen said, studying the packet. "They send assassins. This is someone else."
Against Silas's advice, she went. The cafe was quiet, elegant. Sitting at a corner table was a woman with sharp, intelligent features and an aura of calm, immense power. Mo Chen's [Thermal Sense] revealed nothing—the woman's energy was perfectly contained, a void.
" Miss Mo Chen," the woman said, her accent unplaceable. "I am Isolde. I represent a consortium of interests who were… impressed by your handling of the Estonian situation."
" What consortium?" Mo Chen asked, sitting down, her guard up.
" We are individuals and families who have, for generations, operated in the spaces between the light and the dark. We have watched the rise of corporations like Kraken with concern. They are a destabilizing element. You have proven uniquely capable of destabilizing them."
Isolde slid a tablet across the table. On it was a dossier of Kraken's global operations: their headquarters in Singapore, their training camps in Libya, their weapon caches, their leadership.
" We are not offering you friendship," Isolde said calmly. "We are offering you a target-rich environment. In return, we ask that you continue to do what you do best. Burn Kraken to the ground. We will provide the intelligence. You provide the fire."
It was an offer from the devil. An alliance with shadows to fight a bigger monster. It was everything she had wanted—a clear path to destroy her enemy. But alliances came with strings.
" Why me?" Mo Chen asked.
" Because you are an unpredictable variable," Isolde said with a thin smile. "And in a game of chess, sometimes you need to throw the board into the fireplace."