Ethan sat at the edge of the safe house's makeshift war table, holding Helena's earring like a puzzle piece that could unlock everything. The embedded tracker was a gift, but also a taunt. Helena had left it behind deliberately, and he knew it. She was leading them into another trap—but this time, he was determined to spring it on his terms.
"I have unlocked the tracker," Garrett said, moving his laptop to Ethan. "It is beeping at a location 50 miles outside the city. An abandoned industrial complex. It seems this has been off the grid for years."
Frank crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair. "Typical villain move. The location is remote; nobody around to witness the chaos. She's ending it.
Ethan stared at the screen. The map showed a sprawling, desolate area with limited access points. "Or," he said, "she's setting the stage for her next act. Whatever she's planning, we can't let her walk away this time.
The journey to the industrial complex was tense. Garrett monitored the tracker's signal from the van while Ethan and Frank prepared for a confrontation. The plan was simple: get in, locate Helena, and extract her by any means necessary. But simple plans rarely stayed that way.
"We're here," Garrett announced as the van came to a stop outside the rusting gates of the complex. "Signal's strong. She's inside."
Ethan and Frank emerged from the van, weapons hidden but available. The night was silent, the soft hum of electricity the only noise. The complex loomed before them, its skyscrapers casting long shadows in the moonlight.
"Garrett," Ethan said quietly. "Keep an eye on the perimeter. If you see anything, let us know."
"You got it. Stay safe out there.
Ethan and Frank moved swiftly, taking the overgrown pathways and crumbling walls. They reached the main building: a large warehouse with broken windows and heavy steel doors. Ethan gestured for Frank to take the left flank while he approached the entrance.
The door groaned open, showing a cavernous interior lit only dimly by industrial lights flickering in their mounts. Crates and machinery lay about, creating a maze of possible hiding spots. Ethan's instincts screamed that they weren't alone.
"Movement on the catwalk," Garrett's voice came through the earpiece. "Two tangos armed with rifles."
Ethan spotted the figures and signaled Frank. They moved in sync, taking cover behind the crates as the guards patrolled above. Frank took aim with his silenced weapon, dispatching one of the guards with a precise shot. Ethan followed up, neutralizing the second before he could raise the alarm.
"Catwalk's clear," Garrett confirmed. "You're good to move forward."
Ethan moved further into the warehouse, his senses on full alert. He found a staircase to a control room that gave a view of the floor. The room was empty but a monitor flickered on as he entered. On the screen was Helena's face, her expression smug.
"You're quite persistent, Ethan. I'll give you that," she said. "But you're predictable. Did you really think it'd be this easy?
Ethan's jaw clenched. "It's over, Helena. Surrender now, and I might let you walk out of here."
Helena laughed, the sound cold and sharp. "Oh, Ethan. Always the optimist. But I'm afraid this is where your little crusade ends."
The screen went black, and an alarm blared through the warehouse. Heavy footsteps echoed as more guards poured into the building, their weapons trained on Ethan and Frank.
"Ambush!" Garrett's voice called out. "I have at least a dozen hostiles closing in on your location."
Ethan and Frank retreated, using the crates for cover. Gunfire exploded, bullets rebounding off metal and concrete. Ethan fired back, taking out two guards in rapid succession. Frank covered their flank, his accuracy from years of practice.
"Garrett, we need an exit," Ethan said, rechambering his weapon.
"Working on it," Garrett replied. "There's a service tunnel on the north side. It leads to an exterior hatch. I'll guide you there."
Ethan and Frank fought their way through the warehouse, each step a battle. The guards were relentless, but the duo's coordination kept them ahead of the onslaught. They reached the tunnel entrance, a narrow corridor lined with pipes and flickering lights.
"Tunnel's clear," Garrett said. "Go, go, go!"
They sprinted through the tunnel, emerging into the cool night air. Garrett was waiting with the van, engine running.
"Helena?" Garrett asked as they climbed in.
Ethan shook his head. "She slipped away again. But we've got her on the run."
Garrett frowned. "I don't think she's running. This feels like a distraction."
Ethan's stomach sank as the realization hit him. Helena hadn't been trying to escape—she'd been buying time. For what, he didn't know, but the thought chilled him.
"Then we'll stop her before she can make her next move," Ethan said, his resolve hardening. "No more games."
As the van sped away from the complex, Ethan knew they were nearing the endgame. Helena was a master manipulator, always one step ahead. But Ethan wasn't the same man he'd been when this started. He'd come too far, lost too
much, to let her win now.
It was time to end this—for good.