Frost and Blake arrived in Vienna under a veil of anonymity, blending into the flow of tourists and locals. The city's charm felt like a mask over the tension that lingered in the air, but Frost's mind was razor-sharp, his focus unyielding. This wasn't a vacation—it was a mission.
They checked into a small, nondescript hotel in a quieter part of town. Frost preferred the anonymity it provided, away from the grand hotels where diplomats and dignitaries were likely staying. Vienna's historical beauty, with its grand architecture and cobblestone streets, seemed like a paradox in contrast to the grim task ahead.
Once they were settled, Frost laid out the details they had gathered from Dubois on a makeshift bulletin board in the hotel room. Photographs, notes, and maps were pinned up, forming a web of connections. In the center of it all was Viktor Kazan—Thorne's point man for the attack on the summit.
Blake sat on the edge of the bed, reading through Dubois' notes again. "Kazan's dangerous, that much is clear," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But we need to figure out how he's planning to strike. There's too much at stake to go in blind."
Frost nodded, his eyes scanning the map of Vienna. "Dubois mentioned key locations—places with high visibility. We need to think like Kazan. If he's planning a statement, he'll want maximum impact. The summit itself is an obvious target, but there could be other locations tied to the event. Something symbolic."
Blake pulled out his laptop and began researching the summit itinerary. "The main event is being held at the Hofburg Palace. Security will be tight, but that also makes it a challenge to breach. If Kazan's as skilled as they say, he might target something more vulnerable—a secondary location."
Frost's gaze narrowed as he studied the layout of the Hofburg. "The question is, how? A direct attack on the summit would be a suicide mission without a clear entry and exit strategy. Kazan's smarter than that. He'll have contingencies."
Blake's fingers flew over the keyboard as he brought up a list of locations associated with the summit. "There's a charity gala at the Belvedere Palace the night before the summit, followed by several smaller diplomatic dinners across the city. Any of those could be vulnerable."
Frost's mind raced. "The gala might be the distraction Kazan needs. While security focuses on the summit, he could slip in under the radar. We need to get eyes on the gala."
Blake nodded in agreement. "We're going to need invites or a way in. I can work on forging credentials, but it'll take time."
"Do it," Frost said, already thinking ahead. "We'll split up tomorrow. I'll do reconnaissance at the Hofburg, see what kind of security measures are in place. You handle the gala preparations."
As Blake got to work, Frost sat back, allowing his thoughts to settle into a familiar pattern of deduction. Kazan's plan had layers, and they needed to peel them back carefully. Any mistake could cost lives, and he wasn't willing to let that happen.
The night wore on, but there was no rest for Frost. By the time morning arrived, he had memorized every detail of the Hofburg's layout, anticipating potential points of attack and infiltration. Blake had successfully created the credentials they needed, and their next move was clear.
***
The day was crisp and clear as Frost approached the Hofburg Palace. The grandeur of the building was staggering, its centuries-old architecture standing as a testament to the history that had unfolded within its walls. But today, it was a potential target, and Frost couldn't allow himself to admire the view for long.
He blended into the crowds of tourists, keeping a watchful eye on the entrances and security checkpoints. Armed guards patrolled the area, and Frost made mental notes of their routines, their positions, and their possible blind spots. It was a fortress, but even fortresses had their weaknesses.
His gaze drifted to the rooftops and balconies, noting the vantage points where a sniper or spotter could be positioned. Every angle had to be covered. He took photographs discreetly, storing the details for later review.
As he continued his reconnaissance, a familiar presence caught his attention. Across the courtyard, a woman in a red coat stood out among the sea of visitors. Her face was half-hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat, but Frost's instincts told him she wasn't there by coincidence.
He adjusted his course, moving closer without drawing attention to himself. The woman glanced around, her eyes scanning the area before landing on Frost. For a brief moment, their gazes met, and Frost knew instantly—she was watching him.
Before he could make a move, she turned and disappeared into the crowd. Frost cursed under his breath and quickened his pace, weaving through the throngs of people to follow her. Whoever she was, she had information he needed.
He followed her through the winding streets of Vienna, always staying a few steps behind. She led him on a twisting path, through narrow alleys and side streets that seemed designed to lose pursuers. But Frost was relentless, his focus locked on her.
Finally, she slipped into a small café nestled in a quiet corner of the city. Frost waited a moment before entering, scanning the interior for any signs of danger. The café was nearly empty, save for a few locals enjoying their afternoon coffee. The woman sat at a table near the back, her hat now resting beside her on the seat.
Frost approached cautiously, his hand resting near his concealed weapon. "Mind if I join you?"
She looked up at him with a calm, calculating gaze. "You've been following me."
Frost sat down across from her, keeping his tone neutral. "I don't believe in coincidences. You were watching me at the Hofburg."
The woman smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You're as sharp as they say, Mr. Frost."
Frost's expression remained unreadable. "And you are?"
"Someone who can help you," she replied, her voice smooth and measured. "But only if you're willing to listen."
He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "I'm listening."
She glanced around the café, ensuring they weren't being overheard. "Kazan's plan is more intricate than you think. The gala at the Belvedere is just the beginning. There are multiple targets across the city, all timed to coincide with the summit. If you only focus on one, you'll miss the others."
Frost's mind raced as he absorbed her words. "And how do you know this?"
"Let's just say I'm in a position to know," she said cryptically. "But you don't have much time. Kazan's operatives are already in place, waiting for the signal."
Frost studied her carefully, weighing her words. She was an enigma, and he wasn't sure how much he could trust her. But her information aligned with what Dubois had hinted at—this was bigger than just one attack.
"If you're telling the truth, then you're in danger too," Frost said. "Why come to me?"
The woman's expression softened, just for a moment. "Because Kazan isn't the only one pulling the strings. There's someone else, someone even more dangerous. And I need your help to stop them."
Frost's mind whirled with possibilities. This new player in the game added another layer of complexity, but he couldn't afford to ignore the warning. The stakes were too high.
"Give me a name," Frost demanded, his voice firm.
The woman hesitated, her eyes flicking to the door as if expecting someone to burst in at any moment. "I can't. Not yet. But I'll find you when the time is right."
She stood abruptly, grabbing her hat and slipping it back on. Before Frost could stop her, she was already moving toward the exit.
"Wait—!" he called after her, but she didn't look back.
By the time Frost reached the door, she had vanished into the bustling streets once more. He stood there for a moment, frustration gnawing at him. He had more questions than answers, but at least now he knew one thing for sure—this wasn't just about Thorne anymore. There was a larger conspiracy at play, and he was running out of time to unravel it.
As he made his way back to the hotel, Frost's thoughts were consumed by the new information. Blake was waiting for him when he returned, a grim expression on his face.
"How did the recon go?" Blake asked.
"Complicated," Frost replied, tossing his coat onto the chair. "We've got more targets than we thought. And there's a new player in the game—someone we don't know about yet."
Blake frowned. "More targets? How many are we talking?"
"Enough to stretch us thin," Frost said. "We need to be smart about this. We can't be everywhere at once, but we can disrupt their plans if we move quickly."
Blake nodded, his jaw set with determination. "Then we better get to work."
As they began planning their next move, Frost couldn't shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in. Every step they took brought them closer to the heart of the conspiracy, but also deeper into danger. The edge of darkness was looming, and Frost knew they were about to cross it.
And there would be no turning back.
To be continued…