The words on the screen seemed to pulse with a malevolent life of their own. Lena read them again, then a third time, as if repetition might change their meaning. It didn't.
"It's Aldric. He never went to Kestria. He's been working for Rikard the whole time."
The floor of the apartment felt unsteady beneath her feet. Aldric. The young security operative who had helped them escape from the black site, who had given them the key card and the map, who had claimed his grandmother was dying in the private wing of Tranquil Shores. Aldric, who had sent her a congratulatory message just days ago, claiming to be safe in Kestria. Aldric, who was supposedly on a military transport right now, flying back to Valdris City to help them seize the data center.
It had all been a lie.
She grabbed her phone and called Hale. He answered immediately, his voice still rough from interrupted sleep. "What is it?"
"Aldric. He's not who we thought he was. The anonymous source says he's been working for Rikard the whole time. The escape from the black site, the key card, the map—it was all a setup."
Silence on the other end of the line. Then: "Are you certain?"
"The source has never been wrong. They've been inside Kreuzfeld for seven years. They know everything."
"If Aldric is Rikard's operative, then we just gave him everything. The plan to seize the data center. Soren's team. The maintenance tunnel. He knows it all."
Lena felt sick. She had told Aldric about the data center herself, in the messages they had exchanged after the grand jury indictment. She had thought she was talking to an ally, a fellow survivor of Rikard's machine. Instead, she had been feeding information directly to the enemy.
"Can you stop the military transport?" she asked. "If Aldric is still in the air—"
"I'll try. But if he's Rikard's operative, he probably never got on that plane. He's probably at the data center right now, preparing for our arrival."
"Then we need to move faster than we planned. Soren is assembling her team. I need to warn her about Aldric."
"Do it. I'll contact the transport command and try to verify Aldric's whereabouts. If he's not on that plane, we'll know for certain."
Lena hung up and called Soren. The security chief answered on the first ring. "Ms. Karsten. I was just about to leave. My team is assembled and we're en route to the Kelm Valley."
"Aldric is compromised. He's been working for Rikard the whole time. Everything he told us—the escape, the key card, the grandmother—it was all a lie."
Soren's voice was steady, professional, but Lena could hear the tension beneath it. "Then he knows we're coming."
"He knows. And he'll be ready."
"Then we change the plan. We don't use the maintenance tunnel—that's what he'll expect. We go in through the front, hard and fast. If he's prepared for a quiet infiltration, a direct assault might catch him off guard."
"Can your team handle that?"
"My team was assembled for a hostage rescue operation in the Torven conflict three years ago. We can handle anything." Soren paused. "But there's something else you need to consider. If Aldric is Rikard's operative, then he was the one who tracked us to the farmhouse. He was the one who told Rikard where to find us. The attack that nearly killed Elin—that was his doing."
Lena had not made that connection yet, but now it hit her with the force of a physical blow. Aldric had been at the farmhouse planning meeting. He had known the location, the guard rotations, the security protocols. And he had fed all of that information to Rikard, knowing that it would result in an armed assault.
"And his grandmother?" Lena asked. "Margit Aldricsen. Was she even real?"
"I don't know. But I intend to find out."
Soren ended the call, and Lena was alone with the implications of what she had learned. Aldric had played them all. The story about his grandmother dying in the private wing—that had been the key to everything. It was the story that had made Lena trust him, that had made Drexler trust him, that had made Hale authorize the escape from the black site. It was a story designed to exploit their compassion, their sense of justice, their belief that even inside Rikard's machine, there were people who wanted to do the right thing.
And it had worked perfectly.
Drexler emerged from his bedroom, roused by the sound of Lena's phone calls. His hair was disheveled and his eyes were still clouded with sleep. "What's happening?"
"Aldric is a traitor. He's been working for Rikard the whole time. The escape from the black site—it was a setup. Rikard wanted us to escape. He wanted us to lead him to the server."
Drexler sat down heavily. "That's why he found us so easily. In the church. At the farmhouse. He always knew exactly where we were."
"Because Aldric told him." Lena began pacing the room. "Think about it. Aldric gave us the key card. He gave us the map. He disabled the cameras for exactly fifteen minutes—just enough time for us to escape, but not enough to prevent Rikard from tracking us afterward. The tracker on the key card that Rikard mentioned? That was always part of the plan."
"And the grandmother? Margit Aldricsen?"
"Probably real. But she may not have been his grandmother at all. Or she may have been his grandmother, and he was willing to sacrifice her for the mission. Either way, the story served its purpose. It made us trust him."
Drexler put his head in his hands. "I vouched for him. I told you he was brave. I told you he had risked everything to help us."
"You couldn't have known."
"I should have known. I spent eight years inside Kreuzfeld. I know how Rikard operates. He always has a contingency plan. He always has someone on the inside. I should have realized that Aldric was too convenient. Too helpful. Too perfectly positioned."
Lena stopped pacing and turned to face him. "We can't change what happened. We can only deal with what's happening now. Soren is moving on the data center. Aldric knows we're coming, but he doesn't know that we know about him. That's our only advantage."
"What can I do?"
"Contact your people at the Nordling Post. Tell them to hold the story about the drug shortages for another twenty-four hours. If Aldric thinks we're still preparing a legal response, he might let his guard down."
Drexler nodded and reached for his phone. Lena turned back to her own device, composing a message to the anonymous source.
"We know about Aldric. We're moving on the data center tonight. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help?"
The response came quickly: "Aldric is not the only one. There's a second operative, someone higher up. Someone who has been feeding information to Rikard from inside the prosecution team. I don't know who it is yet. Be careful who you trust."
A second operative. Inside the prosecution team. Lena felt the ground shift beneath her again. Hale's team had been carefully vetted—or so Hale had claimed. But if Rikard had managed to place someone inside the prosecutor's office, then every piece of evidence, every witness list, every legal strategy could have been compromised.
She called Hale again and relayed the information. His response was a long, heavy silence.
"If there's a mole in my office," he said finally, "then we have a bigger problem than the data center. Every document we've filed, every witness we've prepared, every argument we plan to make—Rikard knows about all of it."
"Can you identify the mole?"
"I'll start an internal investigation. Quietly. If the mole knows we're looking for them, they'll disappear. But it will take time."
"We don't have time."
"I know. But we can't let paranoia paralyze us. We have to keep moving forward, even if we don't know who we can trust." Hale paused. "The transport command confirmed that Aldric never boarded the plane to Kestria. He disappeared after the grand jury indictment. His last known location was a safe house in the northern district—the same safe house where you met with Greer."
"He's been watching us the whole time."
"It appears so. Soren's team is en route to the Kelm Valley. I've authorized them to use whatever force is necessary. If Aldric is at the data center, they'll find him."
"And if he's not?"
"Then we keep looking. Aldric is the key to Rikard's contingency plan. If we can capture him, we can find out what else Rikard has planned."
Lena ended the call and sat in the darkness of the apartment. The city was quiet outside, the streets empty, the sky overcast. Somewhere in the Kelm Valley, Soren and her team were approaching the data center. And somewhere in the shadows, Aldric was waiting for them.
She thought about the first time she had met Aldric, in the Voss family mausoleum in the Old Necropolis. He had seemed so sincere. So tormented. The story about his grandmother had brought tears to his eyes. But those tears had been a performance, a calculated manipulation designed to exploit her deepest instincts as a journalist and a human being.
And it had worked. She had trusted him completely. She had vouched for him to Hale, to Drexler, to Soren. She had brought him into the inner circle of the investigation.
The betrayal was not just strategic. It was personal.
At 2:00 AM, Lena's phone buzzed with a message from Soren: "We've reached the data center. No sign of Aldric. The facility appears to be operating normally. We're moving into position for the assault."
Lena typed a reply: "Be careful. He knows you're coming."
"We know. We're ready."
The minutes crawled past. Lena and Drexler sat in the apartment, waiting for news. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant sound of traffic and the hum of the building's heating system.
At 2:45 AM, Soren's voice crackled through the phone. "We're inside. Minimal resistance. Two guards neutralized, no casualties on our side. But there's something you need to see."
"What is it?"
"The production controls. They're not just shut down—they've been reprogrammed. Someone has installed a fail-safe that will permanently disable the manufacturing systems if anyone tries to restart them without the proper authorization code. If we'd tried to turn the production lines back on manually, we would have destroyed them forever."
Lena felt a chill run down her spine. "Rikard's contingency plan. It's not just about holding the drugs hostage. It's about making sure no one else can produce them either."
"Exactly. We need the authorization code. And Aldric is the only one who has it."
"Can you find him?"
"We're searching the facility now. But if he's not here, he could be anywhere. Rikard has safe houses all over the country."
Lena closed her eyes and tried to think. Aldric had been one step ahead of them from the beginning. He had anticipated the investigation, the escape, the assault on the data center. He was Rikard's protégé, trained in the same methods, guided by the same cold intelligence.
But even Rikard had a weakness. His arrogance. His belief that he was smarter than everyone else.
And Aldric might share that weakness.
"Contact me when you have more information," Lena said. "I need to make a call."
She hung up and dialed a number she had never used before. The number of the maximum-security facility where Rikard Voss was being held. It took several minutes to get through the security protocols, but eventually, a guard put her through to the warden's office.
"I need to speak with Rikard Voss," she said. "It's urgent."
"Ms. Karsten, it's three in the morning. Mr. Voss is in his cell."
"Then wake him up. Tell him Lena Karsten wants to talk to him about his contingency plan. Tell him I know about Aldric."
There was a long pause, and then the warden said, "I'll see what I can do."
Lena waited, the phone pressed to her ear. Drexler watched her from across the room, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Rikard respects strength. He respects people who fight back. If I can convince him that his plan has failed, he might give us the authorization code voluntarily."
"Or he might just laugh at you."
"That's also possible." Lena allowed herself a thin smile. "But it's worth a try."
After ten minutes, the warden's voice returned. "Mr. Voss has agreed to speak with you. You have five minutes."
There was a click, and then Rikard's voice filled the line. It was calm and measured, the same voice she had heard in the church and the crypt and the interview room.
"Ms. Karsten. This is an unexpected pleasure. To what do I owe the honor of a call at this hour?"
"Your contingency plan. Aldric. The data center. We know everything."
"Do you? Then you know that the production lines cannot be restarted without the authorization code. And you know that Aldric is the only one who has it."
"We'll find Aldric."
"Perhaps. But by the time you find him, patients will already be dying. The drug shortages are getting worse every day. Hospitals are rationing supplies. Pharmacies are turning away customers. The pressure on the government is mounting. Eventually, they will have no choice but to release me."
"And if they do? What then? You restart production and everything goes back to normal? The trials, the killings, the cover-ups?"
"The trials were a mistake. I told Adrian that from the beginning. If I am released, I will ensure that nothing like them ever happens again. You have my word."
"Your word means nothing. You tried to kill me. You tried to kill Drexler. You sent Aldric to manipulate us and betray us."
"I did what was necessary to protect the company. That was my job. But the situation has changed. The company is destroyed. My brother is in prison. There is nothing left to protect. If I am released, I will go into exile. You will never hear from me again."
Lena gripped the phone tighter. "You're lying. You've always been lying. You said in the church that you respected me, but that was a lie too. You don't respect anyone. You just use people and discard them when they're no longer useful."
"I respect you more than you know, Ms. Karsten. But respect is not the same as trust. And trust is not something either of us can afford." Rikard paused. "Your five minutes are almost up. I'll give you one piece of information, free of charge. Aldric is not at the data center. He's somewhere else. Somewhere you've been before. Think about where you would go, if you were him. Think about the places that matter to you, personally."
The line went dead.
Lena stared at the phone, Rikard's words echoing in her mind. "The places that matter to you, personally." What did that mean? Aldric had been to the farmhouse, the cabin, the monastery. But those places mattered to Lena and Drexler, not to Aldric.
Unless Rikard was talking about something else. Something that mattered to Aldric personally.
And then she understood.
"Tranquil Shores," she said. "His grandmother. Margit Aldricsen. He's at Tranquil Shores."
Drexler stood up. "But his grandmother is dead. Aldric told us that himself."
"Maybe she's dead. Maybe she never existed. But Tranquil Shores is where the story began. It's where Marta worked, where the patients died, where the evidence was hidden. If Aldric has a personal connection to this case, it's there."
"Or it's a trap. Rikard could be sending us there so Aldric can finish what Rikard started."
"Probably. But we don't have a choice. If Aldric is at Tranquil Shores, we need to find him. He's the only one who can restart the production lines."
Lena grabbed her bag and checked the gun. The safety was on, the magazine was full. She was not a soldier, but she was done being a victim.
"Soren is still at the data center," Drexler said. "We'll need backup."
"Call her. Tell her to meet us at Tranquil Shores. We'll go ahead and scout the location."
"Lena, this is insane. We're journalists, not commandos."
"We're whatever we need to be." Lena opened the door and stepped into the corridor. "Are you coming or not?"
Drexler grabbed his coat and followed her.
They drove north through the empty streets of Valdris City, the van's headlights cutting through the predawn darkness. The journey to Serein Bay took three hours, and the sun was just beginning to lighten the horizon when they arrived.
Tranquil Shores sat on its cliff above the gray Atlantic, its windows dark except for a single light burning in the private wing on the fourth floor. The same light that had been burning the first time Lena came here, weeks ago, when she was just a journalist following a story.
Now she was something else. Something she didn't have a word for.
They parked the van at the base of the cliff and climbed the maintenance ladder on the north side of the building. The same ladder Lena had climbed on the night she broke into the records room. The metal was cold and slick with sea spray, but she climbed it without hesitation.
The fire door on the third floor was still unlocked. The alarm was still broken. The corridor beyond was dark and silent.
They moved through the building like ghosts, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor, to the private wing. The door to the wing was open, and the light was coming from the nurses' station at the end of the corridor.
Aldric was sitting at the station, his back to them, his hands resting on the keyboard of a computer terminal.
"Hello, Ms. Karsten," he said without turning around. "I was wondering when you would figure it out. Rikard said you would. He said you were smarter than most."
No comments yet. Be the first to comment!