The streets of London were quiet, almost eerily so, as Frost and Blake made their way back to the station. Frost's mind was racing, trying to piece together the information Huxley had given them before his sudden death. *People*—Thorne was smuggling highly skilled individuals, scientists and engineers, but for what purpose? The stakes had just been raised, and whatever Thorne was planning, it was bigger than anything Frost had anticipated.
"We need to act fast," Blake said, breaking the silence. "If the shipment is coming in within the week, we have a limited window to figure out where and when."
Frost nodded, but his thoughts were already miles ahead. "We need more information on Thorne. We've been playing Kazan's game for too long. Thorne's been in the shadows, pulling the strings. Now it's time we shine a light on him."
Blake glanced sideways at Frost. "And how do you plan on doing that?"
Frost stopped walking, turning to face Blake. "We're going to have to take some risks. If we wait too long, we'll lose our chance to stop this before it escalates."
Blake sighed. "You mean infiltrate Thorne's operation?"
"Exactly."
---
Back at the station, Frost poured over the notes from their investigation. The faces, the names, the connections—everything pointed toward Thorne, but there was still too little known about the man himself. He was elusive, dangerous, and surrounded by loyal followers willing to die to protect his secrets.
Blake returned from his call with the commissioner. "They're giving us some leeway on this, but we're still running out of time."
Frost didn't look up from his notes. "We need someone on the inside. Someone close enough to Thorne to give us the location of that shipment."
Blake frowned. "How do we even begin to find someone like that? Thorne's people are loyal, and anyone who isn't is either dead or too scared to talk."
Frost leaned back in his chair, staring at the wall as if the answers were hidden in plain sight. Then, like a lightbulb flickering on, he remembered something.
"There's someone," Frost said slowly, his mind racing. "Someone who's been in and out of Kazan's operation, someone who might know where the shipment's coming in."
Blake raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Frost stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. "Lila."
Blake blinked. "Lila? You mean—?"
"Yes," Frost said firmly. "She's worked with Kazan before, but she's always been a free agent. She might know something about Thorne's operation, and she might be willing to talk—if we can convince her."
Blake hesitated. "Frost, Lila's not exactly… predictable. You sure you want to bring her into this?"
Frost paused for a moment, then nodded. "We don't have a choice. She's our best shot."
---
Finding Lila wasn't easy. She was known for slipping between the cracks of society, never staying in one place for too long, and always keeping her distance from law enforcement. But Frost had a few old contacts in the underground, and with some careful maneuvering, they were able to track her down.
She was holed up in a small, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of the city. When Frost and Blake entered, she was sitting alone at a table, a glass of whiskey in front of her and a cigarette dangling from her fingers. Her eyes flickered with recognition as they approached, but she didn't seem surprised.
"Well, well," she drawled, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. "Detective Frost. It's been a while."
Frost sat down across from her, keeping his expression neutral. "Lila. I need your help."
Lila chuckled softly. "Of course you do. You always need something, don't you?"
Blake remained standing, his arms crossed as he kept watch on the room.
Frost ignored her comment. "This is about Thorne."
Lila's smile faded slightly, and she took a sip of her whiskey. "Thorne, huh? Dangerous name to be throwing around."
"I'm not here to play games, Lila," Frost said, his voice firm. "We're running out of time. There's a shipment coming in, people—scientists, engineers—Thorne's smuggling them in for something big. I need to know where and when."
Lila leaned back in her chair, studying Frost with a calculating gaze. "And what makes you think I'd know anything about that?"
Frost met her eyes. "Because you've been around Kazan long enough to know the players in his network. You know more than you let on."
Lila took another drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly as she considered his words. After a long moment, she leaned forward, her voice low.
"You're right, I know a lot of things," she said. "But information like that doesn't come cheap, Frost. What's in it for me?"
Frost didn't hesitate. "Your freedom. You help us, and I'll make sure Kazan and Thorne don't come after you."
Lila raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You think you can protect me from Thorne?"
"I've stopped worse."
Lila laughed softly, shaking her head. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. But Thorne's different, Frost. He's not like the others."
Frost's gaze hardened. "That's exactly why I need your help."
There was a tense silence as Lila weighed her options. Finally, she sighed, stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray.
"All right," she said. "I'll tell you what I know. But you'd better hold up your end of the bargain."
Frost nodded. "You have my word."
Lila glanced around the bar, making sure no one was listening, then leaned in closer. "The shipment is coming in through the docks, but it's not where you think. Thorne's using an old smuggling route under the Thames. It's been abandoned for years, but he's revived it for this operation. The shipment will be moved through a series of tunnels before it surfaces near an old warehouse on the east side of the city."
"When?" Frost asked, his mind already working through the logistics.
"Three days from now," Lila replied. "You'll have to move fast if you want to catch them."
Frost's heart raced. They finally had a lead—a real, solid lead. But it wouldn't be easy. Thorne's men would be everywhere, and the tunnels would be a death trap if they weren't careful.
"Thank you," Frost said, standing to leave.
Lila smirked. "Just don't get yourself killed, Frost. I'd hate to lose my favorite detective."
---
Back at the station, Frost and Blake gathered their team. They had three days to prepare, three days to stop the shipment and bring Thorne's operation to its knees.
"We'll need to be surgical about this," Frost said, laying out the plan. "We can't alert Thorne or Kazan that we're onto them until the last possible moment."
Blake nodded, already on the phone, arranging the resources they would need for the operation.
Frost stared at the map of the tunnels, his mind racing. This was their chance—possibly their only chance—to stop Thorne and prevent whatever he had planned. The clock was ticking, and there was no room for error.
As the preparations began, Frost felt a familiar sense of determination settle over him. The game was nearing its climax, and he was ready for whatever came next.