Sonia stared at the ceiling of the safe house.It was cracked and water-stained, but she welcomed the stillness. After the fire. After the screams. After the smoke choking their lungs and the sound of gunfire echoing in her ears silence was a gift.Daniel lay on a mattress across from her, wrapped in bandages and fevered sweat. His breathing was shallow, but steady. His presence grounded her, but it also haunted her. He was alive. But the things they had done to him...“You haven’t slept,” Eric said from the doorway, holding a steaming mug of tea.Sonia took it wordlessly.“He’s stable. Silas checked the vitals.”She nodded, sipping the tea. It was bitter. Perfect.Eric sat beside her. “They drugged him, didn’t they?”“More than that.” Her voice was thin. “They rewired his mind. He said they called it ‘emotional remapping.’ Like they wanted to make him a weapon.”Eric exhaled. “Daxton was just the prototype. What they’re doing now it's global.”Sonia’s eyes flicked to her brother. “An
The compound in Lagos didn’t look like much from the outside just another abandoned industrial warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Peeling paint, rusted gates, overgrown weeds. But Sonia had learned by now that the most dangerous places were often the ones dressed in camouflage.They crouched behind a row of broken-down trucks as dusk fell, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Silas scanned the perimeter through binoculars, his face unreadable.“No armed guards,” he muttered. “No patrols. Just cameras.”Jason frowned. “That doesn’t sit right. Either they’re arrogant... or they’re watching from somewhere else.”Echo crouched beside Sonia, fingers twitching nervously. “How do we know this isn’t a trap?”Sonia adjusted the comms in her ear. “We don’t. But we’ve come too far to back out now.”Eric placed a hand on her shoulder. “We get in, we find the labs, and we get whoever’s inside out. Fast.”Silas nodded toward the eastern wall. “There’s a service tunnel. It’s old probably
The Foundation Gala was a grand illusion an opulent symphony of wealth, power, and deception.Held in the heart of Paris at the Palais Du Verité, a place once known for housing revolutions and now rebranded for humanitarian elegance, the venue glittered with imported crystal, velvet-draped pillars, and the kind of silence only extreme money could buy.Sonia stepped out of the sleek black SUV, her heels clicking against the marble steps. She wore a silver dress sculpted to her frame minimal, sharp, and impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just for show. Sewn into the seams were signal disruptors, tracking patches, and one tiny blade. Just in case.Eric stepped out behind her, donning a classic tuxedo with dark satin lapels and a look that said "keep walking or regret it." Beneath the crisp shirt, a body cam hummed silently. He offered her his arm not for romance tonight, but optics. They looked like a power couple. And in some ways, they were. Just not the kind this gala had planned for.In
They holed up in a safe house on the mainland an old print shop Echo had rigged into a surveillance den. Rain pattered lightly against the windows, but inside, the storm was digital. Sonia stood over Echo’s shoulder, watching lines of code unravel secrets once meant to stay buried.The flash drive Daniel had left behind was a goldmine encrypted pathways, access logs, and account transfers stretching back nearly a decade.Echo leaned back, rubbing her eyes. “You’re gonna want to sit for this.”“I’m good,” Sonia muttered, her voice tight.“No, really,” Echo insisted. “This goes way deeper than BrightCore or Daxton. Daniel traced the funding all the way up.”“To who?” Jason asked from across the room.Echo pressed a key. A wall of photos appeared executives, politicians, military advisors. And at the center of it all…Alexander Bright.Sonia blinked. “No… that’s not possible. He’s dead.”“That’s what they said,” Echo replied grimly. “But according to the files, he’s very much alive and r
Night fell over Lagos like a slow curtain, golden and pink melting into ink. The streets quieted only slightly just enough to move in shadows.Sonia crouched beside the delivery truck parked outside the CortexCare facility. She checked her watch. 9:57 p.m. Echo’s intel had been right. The cameras along the west perimeter blinked out at exactly 10:00 p.m. every Thursday. Like clockwork.Jason whispered through the comms. “Window open. We have twenty-five minutes.”Sonia moved first, slipping past the delivery bay’s rusted gate. Eric was on her heels, followed by Echo and Jason. Silas stayed back, monitoring the feed.The moment they stepped inside the facility, Sonia’s stomach churned.It was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that wasn’t peace, but preparation.She expected to find sterile halls and soft music like Daxton, but this place was worse slicker, cleaner, more modern. Deceit didn’t need masks anymore. It wore white paint and soft lighting.“This way,” Echo murmured, holdi
The air in Lagos was thick humid, heavy, and humming with life.Sonia stepped off the plane with sunglasses covering her eyes and her hoodie pulled low. The city buzzed around her horns blaring, voices shouting in Yoruba, English, and Pidgin, the scent of roasted plantains mixing with diesel fumes. It was nothing like Daxton. And yet, somehow, it was exactly where she needed to be.Behind her, Echo dragged two large cases each one filled with more tech than clothes. Jason followed, scanning the crowd with sharp eyes. Silas, pretending to be their tour guide, wore a ridiculous floral shirt and smiled like a madman. Eric came last, quiet, composed, but his fingers never left the concealed holster at his waist.“We’re being watched,” Echo murmured as they entered the terminal. “Three men by the car rental booth. They’ve clocked us twice.”“I see them,” Jason said. “No weapons visible. Could be just local muscle. Could be BrightCore.”Sonia adjusted her hoodie and walked calmly past the m