The Seine glistened under the moonlight, casting silvery ripples that whispered against the arches of Pont Alexandre III. The grandeur of the bridge, with its gilded sculptures and ornate lampposts, seemed almost ironic given the danger lurking in its shadows. Cassie stood at the center, hands buried deep in her pockets, eyes darting to the corners where darkness pooled. Midnight was moments away, and Varga had been clear: trust no one, and come alone.
The cool night air carried a bite, seeping through her coat and chilling her to the bone. Every sound—a distant car horn, the rustle of leaves, the faint lapping of water—set her nerves on edge. She took a breath, willing her heartbeat to steady, while her eyes strained against the dark to catch any sign of movement.
A shadow peeled away from the far side of the bridge, moving with the deliberate precision of someone used to hiding in plain sight. Varga approached, his face half-lit by the glow of the streetlamps, eyes scanning the area before settling on Cassie. He stopped just short of a comfortable distance, his gaze sharp and guarded.
"You came," he said, his voice low and rough.
Cassie nodded. "You said this is bigger than we know. I'm here to listen."
Varga's expression remained impassive, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. He glanced around once more, then leaned in just enough for his words to reach her ears without echoing into the open.
"Marko's plan isn't just about taking out Leclerc or controlling assets in Europe. It's a smokescreen. The real target is an operation called Project Seraphim—something only the highest-ranking members of the agency even whisper about."
Cassie frowned. She'd heard the name once, whispered by Adam in a moment of exhaustion, when he'd looked over his shoulder like a hunted man. "What is Project Seraphim?"
"Think of it as a failsafe," Varga said, eyes narrowing. "An off-the-books network of agents embedded in the most sensitive government and corporate positions around the world. They're sleeper operatives, assets the agency can activate whenever they need to sway global power."
A chill crawled down Cassie's spine. "And Marko wants to activate them?"
Varga's mouth curved into a bitter smile. "He already has. But not for the agency's gain. This is personal for him—his own path to power."
Cassie felt the implications settling like stones in her stomach. If what Varga said was true, Marko's reach extended far beyond a few assassinations. He had the means to reshape political and economic landscapes with a single command.
"We have to stop him," she said, the weight of the task pressing on her.
Varga's eyes softened, a rare crack in his hardened exterior. "That's why I'm here. But Marko isn't just a strategist; he's an executioner. He'll know we're moving against him before we even set our plan into motion."
Cassie swallowed the fear rising in her throat. "Then we need to move fast."
Before Varga could respond, the night shattered with the crack of a gunshot. The sound ricocheted off the stone of the bridge, and Cassie felt the sharp rush of air as a bullet narrowly missed her. She dove for cover behind one of the statues, heart pounding in her chest. Varga had disappeared, slipping into the shadows with the reflexes of a man who had lived too long on the edge.
A second shot rang out, this one hitting the stone pillar behind her with a loud thud, sending shards of rock skittering across the ground. Cassie risked a glance over her shoulder and saw the glint of a rifle scope on the far bank of the river.
"Sniper!" she hissed to herself, pressing her body lower to the ground.
Suddenly, a figure appeared from behind another pillar—Emil, eyes wide with alarm. "Cassie! Are you hit?"
She shook her head, catching her breath. "Varga was right. Marko's already one step ahead of us."
Emil reached for the small earpiece clipped to his collar. "Anya, we need extraction. Now."
Anya's voice crackled through, steady despite the chaos. "I'm two minutes out. Hold your position."
Two minutes. It might as well have been an eternity. Cassie glanced over at Emil, who was peering cautiously from behind cover, scanning the perimeter.
"Stay low," he muttered, eyes fixed on the bank. "They won't stop until one of us is dead."
The streetlamp flickered, casting erratic shadows across the bridge. Cassie's pulse raced as she calculated their odds. Running was suicide, staying meant waiting to be cornered.
Varga reappeared from the darkness, moving swiftly toward them. He held up a hand, signaling silence, then pointed to a maintenance hatch hidden near the side of the bridge. Without a word, they followed him, sliding into the narrow opening one by one.
The hatch led to a damp, cramped tunnel beneath the bridge, its walls coated in moss and the musty scent of river water. The gunfire above echoed down like a thunderstorm trapped in a cavern.
"Keep moving," Varga ordered, his voice just above a whisper.
They waded through the ankle-deep water, the darkness pressing in from all sides. The only light came from Cassie's dim flashlight, casting long, ghostly shadows that danced as they hurried forward.
Anya's voice cut through the quiet. "I'm at the extraction point, southeast side."
Varga glanced back, his eyes hard but approving. "You chose your team well, Cassie."
She didn't respond, focusing instead on keeping her steps steady as they moved through the maze of tunnels. When they finally emerged from the other side, Anya was waiting in a nondescript van, engine running and eyes scanning for any pursuers.
"Get in!" she shouted.
They piled into the back, the door slamming shut behind them as Anya hit the gas. The van sped through the narrow streets, weaving between cars and leaving the bridge—and the sniper's line of sight—far behind.
Cassie exhaled a shaky breath, meeting Varga's eyes as the city lights blurred past. The urgency in their escape was clear: Marko's plans were far more dangerous than any of them had imagined, and the clock was ticking faster than ever.
The war was no longer in the shadows; it had found its way to the streets, and every step they took from here on out would be in Marko's crosshairs.