CROWN OF DECEPTION

The Dead End

Diego drove straight home.

The incidents that had been happening earlier sat in his head like a splinter that refused to come out. Every second Hillary lay unconscious felt less like waiting and more like being outmaneuvered.

So he shifted the battlefield.

Back in his room, the lights stayed off. Only the glow from his cyber setup lit his face in fractured blues and whites. Screens filled the space like a digital war room—logs, network traces, fragmented hospital access data Kade had previously pulled and the drive containing the transferred data connected to his laptop.

Diego leaned forward, fingers already moving.

The burner number wasn’t clean. It was masked.

He followed it patiently, stripping away one layer, then another.

Thirty minutes in, the system resisted harder.

That told him everything.

Whoever was behind it anticipated pursuit.

Diego adjusted his approach. The screen flickered, lagged, then opened a narrow corridor through the digital fog.

A location blinked onto the map: an industrial warehouse perimeter at the edge of the city.

And something adjacent—an unmarked structure sitting like an afterthought beside it.

Diego exhaled slowly.

Found you.

Back in the hospital, Kade didn’t sleep. He sat in front of his monitors inside Hillary’s room, arms crossed, eyes scanning every feed he could still access. The system breach from earlier hadn’t just been contained—it had been erased. That was what bothered him most. The precision of the cleanup.

For once in his life, he felt incapable. His high skills were nothing compared to the mastermind's.

Lucas leaned against the wall near the door, his usual calm demeanor intact but something seemed different.

Kade glanced at him once.

"You’re off tonight,” Kade said flatly.

Lucas didn’t look at him, “Just tired.”

“That’s new.”

Lucas’ phone rang. He picked up and muttered something and pocketed his phone. “I’m stepping out.”

Kade raised an eyebrow. “Now?”

Lucas shrugged lightly. “Yeah. Signing out for today. The guards are there if you need any help.”

He walked out before Kade could respond.

The door clicked shut.

Kade stared at it for a second longer than necessary, then returned to the monitors. He was too busy trying to outsmart the mastermind.

The city thinned as Diego drove further. Streetlights gave way to broken stretches of road. Buildings became skeletal outlines against a dim, waking sky. The air felt different out there—heavier and forgotten.

Diego’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

The coordinates were precise. He was following the tracker.

The warehouse district appeared ahead like a dead zone carved into the city’s edge. Rusted structures, chained gates, a silent yard, and beside one warehouse—

The building. The exterior was clean and maintained, yet somehow forgettable.

Diego parked a distance away and stepped out. The dried leaves on the ground broke the silence.

He approached the building slowly, scanning every angle. The front entrance was locked, no keypad and no visible access panel.

Diego moved along the side wall, fingers brushing over concrete, metal, seams. He checked vents, utility lines and old service markings faded with time.

Then he found it - a maintenance access point partially concealed beneath a warped metal panel.

Diego crouched, pulled it open and slipped inside.

Inside the building, the interior didn’t match the exterior’s look.

It was empty—but not abandoned.

No dust patterns of long-term neglect. Instead, a sterile emptiness. The floor was clean and shiny.

Diego moved carefully through the space.

He checked drawers, cabinets, floor seams, ceiling corners.

There was nothing.

Hours passed.

The building started to feel larger than it should have been, like it was stretching his search on purpose.

By the second hour, frustration began creeping in—not loud, but steady.

He stopped in the center of a room, scanning slowly.

The building was a controlled dead end.

Diego wiped a hand over his face, already calculating his next move. He’d need to re-trace, widen the net, pull Kade back in—

No, not yet.

Diego stood still in the middle of the empty room.

Already deciding to leave, he turned toward the exit.

It was still dark. Halfway to his car, he heard rustling from the leaves. At first he thought someone was following him. But he turned around and saw a dark figure, going in the direction of the building.

His instincts fired.

"Could it be the man?"

It was too early to draw conclusions.

"Whether it is him or not, I must find out."

He followed the man, calculating his steps, making sure the dry leaves didn't betray his presence.

After a few minutes, Diego confirmed. He was following the right person.

The man was in front of the building, inserting a key into the lock. Without wasting much time, Diego lunged from the blind side, grabbing the man and slamming him into the wall.

Before the man could recover from the surprise, he pulled him back and punched him hard in the eye. The man fell down with a thud.

They went down hard into the dirt.

A struggle broke out.

Elbows. Grip fighting. Weight shifting.

The man wasn’t weak. He knew how to survive contact.

But Diego had the advantage of surprise and anger.

He pinned him briefly.

“Who are you?” Diego demanded, voice low and tight. “Talk.”

The man didn’t answer.

He broke one hand free and pulled out a dagger from his jeans. Diego immediately released his grip on the man's wrist and caught the blade with his bare palm before it could reach his chest. The move stopped the stab—but it also freed both of the man's hands. With a grunt, the man clasped the knife handle with both hands and forced it upward while Diego struggled to keep the blade from reaching his chest.

Blood began dripping from Diego’s palm. He tried to take away the dagger but he couldn't. It was cutting deep.

Diego looked away from the man's covered face and focused on his hand. It was then, he saw the mark. Same black tattoo from the footage.

It burned into Diego’s memory in an instant.

The connection locked. He just stared at it for a second, breathing hard, his eyes narrowed.

The man took this as an opportunity and took a fistful of dirt, threw it into Diego’s eyes.

“—damn it!”

He staggered back, vision blurred and excruciating pain flaring sharply from his palm.

The man pushed him off to the ground and bolted. Fast.

With the back of his palm, Diego wiped at his eyes quickly, blinking through the sting. His vision was still partially blurred, red creeping in at the edges.

He watched as the man vanished into the woods.

He decided to go back inside. This time he was sure to come out with something useful.

As he stepped into one room, he was drawn by something.

A mat, old and slightly out of place near the entry threshold.

His instincts sharpened.

He crouched and lifted it. There was nothing but something felt odd. Diego remained crouched beside the mat, eyes sweeping across the room. He reached for a shirt in the man's wardrobe, tore a part and wrapped it around his palm.

Years of dealing with security systems and safe houses, had taught him one thing: men like this never kept important items in plain sight. If this place truly belonged to the tattooed man, then there had to be a hidden storage spot somewhere.

His gaze settled on the floor.

Slowly, he began tapping different sections with his knuckles, listening carefully to the sound each produced. Every tap sent immense pain through his palm.

Then one section answered differently–hollow.

Diego paused and tapped it again.

It was a hidden compartment. He knocked across the floor several times and finally found the hidden opening. He opened it and there it was: the burner, old documents, a photo of the man himself and surprisingly, a photo of Hillary and her dad.

His eyes widened. He started to connect the dots. Everything happening was not coincidental.

He grabbed a bag he saw earlier in the room and stuffed everything in it. He knew he was getting to the bottom of it.