The frustration over the trap at the docks only seemed to fuel his resolve. Helena Cross had outplayed them, and that message on the self-destructed hard drives was more than just a taunt; it was a declaration of war. Ethan was not about to let her slip away. They regrouped at Garrett's apartment, sifting through what little intel they still had.
"She's smart," Garrett muttered, typing furiously. "Every move she makes is calculated. But everyone leaves a footprint, and she's no exception."
"You sound confident," Ethan said, leaning over Garrett's shoulder.
"That's because I am. I've found something—an encrypted message she sent to her private network. The encryption was tough, but I managed to break it. She's planning a meeting in two days at an art gallery downtown."
Frank smirked. "Art gallery, huh? Fancy way of talking business. Let's crash the party."
Ethan's mind was racing. The meeting was their best opportunity to pin down Helena, but they should approach it carefully. "We need to know who is coming and what they are bringing. This is a big deal. She'll have security for this kind of deal.
Garrett nodded. "Leave that to me. I'll tap into the gallery's systems and get you a guest list. In the meantime, you and Frank should prepare for worst-case scenarios."
The next two days were a whirlwind of planning. Garrett mapped out the gallery's layout, highlighting entry points, blind spots, and potential chokeholds. Frank secured equipment—disguises, communications gear, and non-lethal weapons. Ethan focused on strategy, running through every possible contingency.
At sundown on the night of the meeting, the team entered into position. Garrett worked from afar, monitoring the security cameras at the gallery and relaying live updates to Ethan and Frank. He and the other two changed into uniforms, blending with the waitstaff.
"She just walked in," crackled Garrett's voice through their earpieces. "Wearing a red dress, stands by the sculpture in the east wing. Two bodyguards are accompanying her, are armed. Be careful."
Ethan spotted Helena almost right away. She was confident, her movements deliberate as she scanned the room. Her bodyguards flanked her, their eyes darting to every corner.
"Got her," Ethan murmured. "What's the play?"
"We need to isolate her," Garrett replied. "There's a service hallway near the east wing. If you can lure her there, I'll lock the doors and disable the cameras."
Frank grabbed a tray of drinks and headed toward Helena. With practiced ease, he stumbled, spilling a glass of champagne onto her dress.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, ma'am," Frank said, his voice dripping with feigned concern.
Helena's eyes narrowed. "Watch where you're going." She motioned for her guards to stand down as they reached for their weapons. "This dress is ruined. Where's the restroom?"
Frank gestured toward the service hallway. "Right through there, ma'am."
Helena stormed off, her guards trailing behind. Ethan followed at a safe distance, his heart pounding. As soon as Helena and her guards entered the hallway, Garrett locked the doors.
"You're up," Garrett said.
Ethan stepped into the hallway and blocked Helena's path. Bodyguards instantly drew their firearms, but Ethan was quick. With a swift motion, he disarmed one and made the other fall down unconscious. Helena took a step back. Her expression grew icy.
"Mr. Kane," she said calmly as if she wasn't standing there, her bodyguards on edge and armed. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but we both know that would be a lie."
Ethan leveled his gaze at her. "You set us up at the docks. Why?"
Helena shrugged. "To send a message. You're in over your head, Ethan. Victor's empire was just the beginning. You have no idea what you're dealing with."
"Then enlighten me," Ethan said, his tone sharp.
Helaina smiled. "You really believe that destroying me will get rid of everything? There are others-more powerful people, people who want what Victor created. Even if you manage to stop me, they will come for you. And when they do, you will wish that you had stayed in the darkness where you belonged."
Ethan drew closer. "Who are they?"
Helaina's smile faded. "You'll know soon enough.
Before Ethan could press further, a deafening explosion rocked the gallery. The lights flickered, and the fire alarm blared.
"What the hell was that?" Frank's voice came through the earpiece.
Garrett's panicked voice followed. "Someone just blew the main entrance. We've got hostiles coming in—heavily armed."
Helena took her chance from the chaos to flee. She ran past Ethan and entered the corridor filled with smoke. Ethan followed her, but it was too much for him as he heard the crackling of the gunfire on all sides.
"Ethan, get out of there!" Garrett yelled out. "It's a trap!"
Ethan grunted. "Not without Helena.
He fought his way through the mayhem, dodging bullets and neutralizing attackers. By the time he reached the emergency exit, Helena was gone. All that remained was her discarded earring, glinting on the ground.
Back at the safe house, the team regrouped, battered but alive. Garrett reviewed the security footage from the gallery, but Helena had covered her tracks once again.
"She's slippery," Frank said, nursing a cut on his arm. "But she's running out of places to hide."
Ethan picked up Helena's earring, turning it over in his hand. It was more than just jewelry—a small tracking device was embedded in the back. A glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes.
"She might be ahead of us now," Ethan said. "But this time, we'll be ready. Let's finish this."