Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

SETH

T he tension was palpable as Seth and Hope crept through the narrow corridors of the Citadel, the silence around them broken only by the occasional soft footfall or the muffled hum of distant machinery. The Citadel was a maze, a labyrinth of shadowy hallways and locked doors that twisted and turned with no apparent logic. Every corner they turned, every door they passed, was another potential threat, another opportunity for the mission to go horribly wrong.

The layout of the Citadel had been drilled into their minds and finding schematics of the place had helped immensely. They knew every hallway, every exit, every room where an ambush might occur. But knowing the layout didn't make the journey any less harrowing. They were deep in enemy territory, even though they were still in London, surrounded by trained killers who would not hesitate to put them down if discovered.

Hope's fingers flew over her device, her brow furrowed in concentration as she rendered the Citadel's security systems ineffective. Each keystroke was a lifeline, keeping the cameras dark and the alarms silent as they made their way deeper into the belly of the beast. Seth glanced over her shoulder, watching the green lines of code flash across the screen, a testament to her skill and precision.

"We're clear for now," Hope whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and he gave her a tight nod.

Seth moved past her to lead the way, his movements deliberate and controlled, his every sense heightened to a razor's edge. He held his weapon close, the cold metal a comforting weight in his hand as they slipped deeper into the darkness. The dim emergency lights cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to press in from all sides.

The Citadel was far quieter than it had been the two times they had previously been inside. It was a place of constant activity, even in the early morning hours after the club had closed and before the sun's early light began to creep over the eastern horizon. But at the moment, the silence was unsettling. It was as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Hope followed close behind Seth, her eyes scanning every corner, every darkened alcove where danger might be lurking. Seth could feel her presence, steady and sure, but he also knew how much she was counting on him to keep them safe. She was brilliant—there was no denying that—but her strength lay in her mind, in her ability to decipher and analyze, not in close-quarter combat. That responsibility was his. Oh, she could hold her own, but in this partnership, she was brains, and he was brawn.

They turned a corner and entered a long, narrow hallway that led to a set of heavy, reinforced doors—the entrance to the inner sanctum of the Obsidian Cartel. This was where the real power of the organization was concentrated, where Nero Valente ruled with an iron fist. Seth's grip tightened on his weapon as he signaled for Hope to stay close.

Their rubber-soled shoes were nearly silent on the floor, but the air around them seemed to hum with a sinister energy. Seth's heart pounded in his chest as they neared the doors, every nerve in his body on high alert. He knew they were close now—close to Valente, close to their objective.

But with every step forward, the danger increased exponentially.

As they approached the doors, Seth raised a hand, signaling for Hope to stop. He crouched low, listening intently for any signs of movement on the other side. The thick metal doors were designed to keep intruders out—or, in their case, to keep them in. The silence was unnerving, but he knew better than to trust it.

He pressed his ear to the door, straining to catch any sound, any indication that there were guards or worse waiting for them. The blood rushed in his ears, making it difficult to hear, but after a few tense moments, he detected a faint, rhythmic noise—breathing. Someone was standing just beyond the door.

Seth pulled back and glanced at Hope, who was watching him with wide, questioning eyes. He held up two fingers, indicating the presence of at least two guards. She nodded, her face pale but resolute.

He knew they had to act quickly. The longer they stayed in one place, the greater the risk of being discovered. He motioned for Hope to stand back as he reached into his belt for a small, cylindrical device—a flashbang. It was a gamble, but it might give them the edge they needed to take out the guards before they could sound the alarm.

With a final nod to Hope, Seth pressed a button on the flashbang, then pushed the door open just enough to toss it inside. He pulled back quickly, covering his ears as the device detonated with a blinding flash of light and a deafening bang that reverberated through the hallway.

Without waiting for the effects to wear off, Seth surged forward, bursting through the door with his weapon raised. The two guards inside were reeling, their senses overwhelmed by the flashbang. They were still disoriented when Seth fired, his shots precise and lethal. The guards crumpled to the ground, their bodies hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Seth's breath came in short bursts as he scanned the room, ensuring there were no other threats. When he was satisfied the room was secure, he turned to Hope, who had followed him inside.

"Clear," he whispered, lowering his weapon.

Hope stepped over the fallen guards; her face grim as she moved to the control panel on the wall. Her fingers danced over the buttons, disabling the last layer of security that separated them from Valente.

"We're in," she said softly, her voice laced with tension.

Seth nodded; the weight of what they were about to do settling over him like a heavy shroud. This was it—the culmination of everything they'd been working for. With Valente in their possession, they could bring the Obsidian Cartel to its knees, stop the terrorist attacks and dismantle the cartel's intelligence network and nest of traitors, including the one at Cerberus. It was an enormous risk, but the potential results justified it.

They moved as one, slipping through the final set of doors and into the heart of the Obsidian Cartel. The room beyond was opulent, making the private area for players pale in comparison and a stark contrast to the cold, industrial feel of the rest of the building. Thick carpets covered the floors, and expensive art adorned the walls. The air was thick with the scent of leather, fine whiskey, and expensive cologne.

In the center of the room was a massive four-poster bed, draped in luxurious silk sheets. And on that bed lay Nero Valente, the man who had orchestrated countless atrocities in the name of power and profit. He was asleep, his breathing deep and even, oblivious to the danger creeping ever closer.

But it wasn't just Valente in the room.

Hope gasped softly, her eyes locking on the woman bound to the headboard beside him. She was bruised, her wrists raw from the restraints, her face a mask of fear and pain. Her eyes widened when she saw them, and for a moment, she looked like she might scream.

Seth moved quickly, raising a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence and administering a powerful sedative to Valente. The woman's breathing hitched, but she obeyed, her gaze flicking from Seth to Hope, desperate for help.

Seth's mind raced as he tried to assess the situation. Their op had a clear mandate: capture Nero Valente and extract the information they needed to stop the Cobra's plan. But the presence of the woman complicated everything. She was a prisoner, likely a victim of Valente's cruelty, but rescuing her was not part of the op.

Yet the thought of leaving her behind—of abandoning her to whatever horrors Valente or his people had in store—was something Seth couldn't stomach.

"Hope," he whispered, his voice urgent. "We've got a problem."

Hope was already at the woman's side, untying the bonds that held her captive. The woman winced as the ropes fell away, her movements slow and pained.

"We can't leave her here," Hope said, her voice trembling with emotion. "We have to get her out."

Seth clenched his jaw, torn between the mission and his conscience. "Our objective is Valente. We need him alive to get the intel we need."

"I know," Hope replied, her eyes pleading with him. "But we can't just leave her. We'll figure it out, but she comes with us."

Seth glanced at Valente, who was still unconscious, thanks to the sedative he had administered. The man was a monster, but he was also their ticket to stopping the Cobra. Leaving him behind could jeopardize everything.

But the woman…

Seth cursed under his breath; his decision made. "Fine. We take her. We need to move fast. We can't do that if we try to get them both out. If we're caught, we're dead."

Hope nodded, gratitude and determination flashing in her eyes. She helped the woman to her feet, and into what appeared to be her clothes, supporting her as they moved toward the door. The woman was weak, her steps unsteady, but she followed without hesitation, trusting them implicitly.

Seth led the way, his weapon at the ready as they retraced their steps through the Citadel. The corridors seemed even darker now, the shadows deeper, as if the building itself was aware of their presence, of the treachery they were committing by stealing away its master's prize.

Every creak of the floor, every distant sound, sent a spike of adrenaline through Seth's veins. They were running out of time. The longer they stayed, the greater the chance that someone would discover Valente unconscious and the woman missing.

As they neared the exit, Seth signaled for them to stop. He moved ahead, scanning the final corridor for any signs of movement. The silence was oppressive, every second stretching out into an eternity.

They had just reached the entrance when Seth heard it—a faint rustling sound, like the whisper of fabric against stone. His heart skipped a beat as he turned, catching a glimpse of a shadow moving in the periphery of his vision.

"Down!" Seth hissed, pulling Hope and the woman behind a column just as a guard appeared at the far end of the hallway. The guard was alone, his gaze focused on a tablet in his hand, oblivious to the danger lurking just a few feet away.

Seth's mind raced as he considered his options. The guard was between them and the exit—there was no way around him. If he raised the alarm, it was all over.

He had one shot.

With a silent prayer, Seth drew his knife and stepped out from behind the column. The guard looked up just in time to see Seth lunging at him, his eyes widening in shock. Seth didn't give him a chance to react. He plunged the knife into the guard's chest, driving it up and under the ribcage, straight into the heart.

The guard gurgled, his eyes rolling back as he crumpled to the floor, his life extinguished in an instant.

Seth stood over the body, his chest heaving with effort, his hand shaking slightly as he pulled the knife free. He wiped the blade on the guard's uniform, then turned back to Hope and the woman.

"Let's go," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

They moved quickly, slipping out of the Citadel and into the cool night air. The city was quiet, the streets empty as they made their way to the rendezvous point. Seth's nerves were frayed, his senses still on high alert, but he forced himself to stay focused. They were almost there.

The black SUV was waiting for them, its engine purring softly in the darkness. Nigel Pederson was behind the wheel, his expression grim as he opened the door.

"Get in," he ordered, his eyes flicking over the woman with a mix of concern and surprise.

Hope helped the woman into the backseat, then slid in beside her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. The woman trembled, her eyes darting around in fear, but she didn't speak.

Seth climbed into the passenger seat, his mind racing as Nigel pulled away from the curb. They had completed the mission—or at least part of it—but the cost was still unknown. They had left Valente behind, but they had saved a life.

"Where's Valente?" Nigel asked, his voice tense as they sped through the deserted streets of London.

"Still in the Citadel," Seth replied, his tone tight. "We had to make a choice. The woman… we couldn't get them both out, and we sure as hell couldn't leave her."

Nigel glanced at Seth; his expression unreadable. "You made the right call," he said after a moment. "But we'll need to act fast if we're going to be able to get anything out of them. Fitz isn't going to be happy that we don't have Valente, but there's no way he would have done anything differently. We're getting you out of the city tonight. We're not going back to HQ."

Seth nodded, knowing the consequences of their decision were far from over. But as he glanced back at Hope, who was gently comforting the woman, he knew they had done the right thing. The cartel had been dealt a blow, but the Cobra was still out there, and their plans were still in motion.