V arrived back at the safe house just before dawn, where Scarlett and Lucy were waiting, their faces a mix of exhaustion and determination. The gravity of their situation had shifted overnight, and it was clear they understood what they were up against now.
Scarlett looked at V as he entered, her gaze piercing. "So, what's the plan? Monroe filled us in on some things, but we're all ears."
V gave a small nod, pulling out the encrypted device Monroe had given him. "This is our key," he began. "Inside this drive are records of Mercier's dealings, his assets, transfers—enough evidence to expose him and everyone connected to him. If we play this right, we'll turn the tables."
Lucy, who had been listening quietly, looked down, her face tense. "Anderson Silva… is he part of this too?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, clearly rattled by the thought.
Monroe spoke up, his voice steady despite his weariness. "We suspect Silva's been working with Mercier. He's slippery, always looking for a way to cover himself. If he's sided with Mercier, it won't be for loyalty—it's self-preservation."
Scarlett crossed her arms, an edge of anger in her voice. "So we're surrounded by enemies. Great. But what about Miller? What's his angle?"
V met her gaze, his face hard. "He's Mercier's right hand in all of this. I don't know his reasons, but he's fully committed. This isn't about mere power for him—there's something deeper. But we can't afford to wait to understand it. We take them down one by one, starting with Silva."
Monroe leaned forward, his expression firm. "We'll need to be cautious with Silva. If we expose him too soon, he'll either escape or send every agent loyal to Mercier after us. We have to pull the rug out from under him quietly."
A determined light sparked in Lucy's eyes. "I can handle Anderson. He doesn't see me as a threat. I can play the role of the loyal assistant while finding out exactly what he's planning."
Scarlett nodded, catching onto the idea. "If Lucy's on the inside, we can feed misinformation through her—make Silva think we're weak, maybe even get him to lower his guard."
V looked at Lucy, the gravity of her role settling between them. "It'll be dangerous," he warned, his voice firm. "The moment he suspects anything…"
Lucy's jaw tightened. "I know the risks. But I want to do this." She paused, her gaze steady. "For all of us."
There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the plan's stakes. Then V continued, outlining the steps. "Scarlett, you'll be with me. We'll go to the government archives. If we can secure the files Monroe mentioned, we can build our case with undeniable evidence."
Scarlett smirked, a hint of her usual confidence returning. "So, a break-in. Just like old times."
Monroe looked at each of them, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. "Remember, Mercier and Miller are going to throw everything they have at us once they realize we're still standing. We'll be their number one targets."
Lucy gave a small, determined nod. "Then we won't give them that chance. We'll end this on our terms."
V exchanged a look with each of them, the final pieces falling into place. "Good. Let's give them a fight they'll never forget."
With the plan solidified, they prepared to move. V knew that this was more than a mission now—it was survival. And if he had anything to say about it, Mercier, Miller, and everyone aligned with them would pay dearly for their treachery.
As we finalized the plan and prepared to move out, a familiar sensation began to unfurl within me—the dark passenger, the part of myself I tried to keep hidden. But tonight, it was awake and alive, whispering in my mind, analyzing everything with a cold detachment. It noted the similarities between me and Anderson Silva, a realization that unsettled me but couldn't be ignored.
Silva and I were, in many ways, cut from the same cloth. Both of us adept at manipulation, at making people see what we wanted them to see. We both played chess with people's emotions, twisting them to serve our needs. And now, here we were, each with our own ally—a woman by our side, though for different reasons. Me with Scarlett, and Silva with Lucy.
The dark passenger seemed to revel in the irony. You think you're different, don't you? But look at them—Scarlett, trusting you despite barely knowing the real you. Lucy, wrapped around Silva's finger, unaware of his treachery. They're pawns, just as he would see them. How long before they're discarded?
It was a whisper I tried to ignore, but there was truth in it. I'd put Scarlett and Lucy in the line of fire because it served my purpose. Sure, I'd convinced myself that we were a team, that this was about mutual survival—but beneath that was something darker, something I didn't want to admit. Silva and I weren't as far apart as I'd like to believe.
Scarlett caught me watching her and raised an eyebrow. "You okay?"
I forced a slight nod, brushing off the moment. "Yeah. Just... thinking about how Silva's likely to underestimate us."
Underestimate us—or underestimate you? The passenger prodded again, amused. You know he sees you as an equal threat. He sees a reflection of himself in you, just as you do in him.
As we headed out, I let the thoughts fade into the background, suppressing that inner voice. There would be time to confront these shadows later—if there was a later.
As we moved through the dark corridors of the facility, I couldn't shake the feeling that Silva was watching us, even if I couldn't see him. And somewhere, across the compound, Anderson Silva himself was likely calculating, analyzing every angle of his own plans.
Silva paced a dimly lit room, his mind an intricate web of thoughts and schemes as he contemplated his next move. I could almost feel his inner monologue echoing through the walls, a whisper as sinister as the dark passenger that lurked within me.
The boy thinks he's clever. Thinks he's different. But he's no better than I am, Silva's mind mused. They all underestimate me—Monroe, Miller, even V. They don't see the lengths I'll go to, the things I'm willing to sacrifice. V fights like he has something to lose. I fight like I have nothing left. That makes all the difference.
The voice in Silva's head was cold, devoid of hesitation. Unlike my own dark passenger, Silva's inner thoughts weren't just whispers of darker desires. They were commands, orders from a brutal, unfeeling place that drove him relentlessly forward.
Scarlett, Lucy... they're all pawns. Weaknesses to be exploited. His thoughts churned. Lucy may trust me now, but once this is over, she'll learn. They all will. Loyalty is just leverage, another tool in my arsenal, no more than a weapon to be discarded once the job is done.
Silva's gaze hardened as he formulated his plans. V sees himself as clever, but I see him for what he is. Desperate. Emotional. Flawed. He has limits. I don't. The moment he lets his guard down, I'll remind him why men like him are outmatched by men like me.
Silva's thoughts turned to Lucy, his lips curving into a cold smirk. Lucy's attachment to V... that's something I can use. And when she realizes how close she came to danger, she'll hate him. Maybe it's better that way. Let her see V for who he really is—a shadow no less dark than my own. Maybe that's why she's drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. Just as Scarlett is to me.
He paused, glancing out the window at the shadowy compound below, where the storm was brewing, and in the reflection, he saw his own eyes, sharp and unyielding. This isn't just a game. It's survival. If V wants to play at being my equal, then he's going to learn what true ruthlessness looks like. And when I'm done, I'll tear down everything he values, until there's nothing left.
As Silva's brutal thoughts simmered, I felt a chill ripple down my spine, as if I could sense the relentless brutality radiating from him, even from a distance.
I kept moving through the maze of corridors, Scarlett at my side. The further we went, the more that unsettling sense of someone else's presence lingered—Silva's, or maybe even the ghostly remnants of his twisted plans hovering around us. I knew Anderson's mind too well now; he'd positioned himself as a mirror of my own, one that showed all the ugly possibilities of who I might become if I let my darkness roam unchecked.
Scarlett's voice snapped me back to reality. "V, are you sure we're close?"
"Close enough," I muttered, adjusting my focus. "If Monroe's signal is steady, we'll reach him soon."
She nodded, but her unease was palpable. "You don't think Silva... you don't think he'll come for us here?"
I wanted to reassure her, but I couldn't lie. Silva was relentless. If he was willing to play his game this far, he'd come after us wherever he had to. And there was one thing I understood now, thanks to his brutal thoughts: Silva didn't fight because he needed to win; he fought because he needed others to lose.
We rounded another corner, and suddenly a quiet, mocking applause echoed through the hall. Silva's voice followed, smooth and dark, from somewhere up ahead.
"V," he called, a chilling smile audible in his tone. "I knew you'd come. I was counting on it, actually. You've made it so... convenient."
I tensed, scanning the dim corridor for any hint of his location. Scarlett stiffened beside me, her eyes narrowed, steeling herself for whatever might come.
"Convenient?" I said, keeping my tone measured. "Is that what you're calling it?"
"Oh, don't get defensive, V," Silva sneered. "You're here to save Monroe, aren't you? Noble, admirable—predictable. It's what you do best. But tell me, do you really believe rescuing Monroe will change anything?"
A bitter laugh escaped him, dark and mocking. "The government you serve, the missions you bleed for—they don't care about you. They don't even care about Monroe. I used to think maybe you were different, V. But you're just another pawn who thinks he's in control."
My pulse quickened. I felt my own dark passenger stir, whispering reminders of Silva's manipulation, his games, and every lie he'd spun to stay one step ahead. But I wasn't about to let him win—not here, not now.
Scarlett spoke up, her voice fierce, cutting through the air like a blade. "Enough with the mind games, Anderson. Show yourself."
There was a silence, then the soft sound of footsteps approaching from the shadows. Silva stepped forward, his face barely visible in the dim light, but his eyes sharp and unyielding.
"Ah, Scarlett," he said, his voice dripping with false warmth. "Still loyal to the cause? Or is it to V?"
Scarlett's jaw clenched, but she held her ground. "You're the last person to question loyalty, Silva."
"Touché," he said, feigning a look of mock offense. "But see, loyalty is an interesting thing. It's a flaw, a vulnerability." His gaze flicked to me, and I saw the satisfaction in his eyes, his cold delight in twisting the knife. "And that's why I'll win, V. Because I don't have weaknesses. And I certainly don't have anyone I care about."
"That's why you'll lose, Silva," I replied, stepping forward, my voice cold. "Because you don't understand strength. You only understand fear. And once that fear is gone, there's nothing left to hold over anyone."
He smirked, clearly unconvinced, before straightening and adopting a look of feigned pity. "Fine. If you want to see what strength looks like without mercy, then so be it."
In one swift move, he motioned to the shadowed door beside him. I knew instinctively he had something—or someone—behind it, a card to play that would force my hand. I took a deep breath, letting the calm settle over me, my focus tightening.
Whatever Silva had planned, I was ready. But there was one thing I was certain of: he wasn't walking out of here with the victory he imagined.