Cat and Mouse Game;
1764 Words
The icy chill of the metal pressed against Alara’s body suddenly vanished. Her breath was uneven, her heart pounding. When she realized the barrel of the gun was no longer against her back, she instinctively turned.
And he was standing right in front of her.
The man looked about the same age as Emir, but carried an entirely different aura. He was blond.
His straight, slightly wavy light-brown hair was a bit tousled at the nape, clearly not someone who spent much time fixing it just like Emir. His sharp featured face had a lean, hard jawline, and the pronounced cheekbones added a striking severity to his appearance. His eyes were a pale shade of blue, but cold and lifeless the eyes of a man who had seen too much, lived through too much.
His skin was lighter than Emir’s, the pallor of someone who hadn’t spent much time under the sun. Yet his muscular, athletic build made it obvious he too had undergone combat training. He wore a fitted dark-gray tactical suit, designed to carry his weapons with ease.
Alara swallowed, murmuring softly:
“Hello.”
But the man didn’t reply. His gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds, then, without expression, he walked over to the table. He sat down, let out a deep breath as if to show his impatience, wrinkled his nose, and nodded toward the empty chair.
“Sit. Tell me everything.”
Alara hesitated, but she knew defiance here would get her nowhere. She took the chair and, drawing in a steadying breath, began recounting everything she had noticed from the very beginning. As she pieced the events together, she tried to read the man’s face but his expression barely shifted. Cold, attentive, analytical.
But above all: intelligent.
From the way he looked at her answers, Alara could tell he had already put the pieces together in his mind. Even before she finished explaining her plan, she could see in his eyes that everything had already fallen into place.
When she finished, the man tilted his head slightly, summing it up:
“So, you’re planning to use Bora to reach Emir.”
Alara nodded. He thought for a moment, then locked his pale eyes on her.
“And you’re certain Bora doesn’t know his cover’s blown?”
Alara narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said sharply. “Every look, every smirk of his it’s still mockery.”
The man nodded, as if he had already expected that answer. “I see.”
Silence lingered for a few seconds. Then his pale eyes seemed to drift, as if calculating something else. After weighing his thoughts, he spoke:
“There’s a hidden garage passage leading to your home. I’ll use it. We’ll meet here again tomorrow, same time.”
Alara quickly rose to her feet. “Wait, your name you haven’t told me.”
The man tilted his head, the coldness in his eyes deepening for a moment. A faint smile curved his lips, but it held no warmth.
“Not all of us are lucky enough to have names, Prosecutor. Since we were branded like cattle, my name is 2. That’s what you can call me.”
A pang of bitterness hit Alara.
She, despite being an orphan, had struggled through life and built herself an identity. But this man… he and his team were created to be ghosts.
They had no lives. Not even names.
The Next Day
When Alara arrived at the office the next morning, Bora was acting exactly as she had expected. Pretending ignorance, feigning grief, as though he wasn’t the one feeding information straight to Şirvan’s network.
“Emir is now legally a fugitive. If we’re lucky, we’ll reach him before they wipe him out. These files are worthless compared to an innocent man’s life. I’m with you.”
Alara seethed inside.
Every word from Bora’s mouth was repulsive. But in this game, she needed his support. No matter how much it disgusted her, she forced a mask of gratitude on her face, nodded, and smiled.
“Alright, I’ll head out then. I’m not feeling well today. Let me know if there’s any news,” she said, keeping her tone calm.
Bora lowered his head in a polite smile. “Understood, Prosecutor. See you soon.”
But as soon as she stood, dizziness struck. Her legs faltered, her vision blurred slightly. Worst of all, the smell
Sharp. Metallic.
Like a slaughterhouse. Her stomach lurched violently. Dropping her bag aside, she rushed to the restroom.
Bora watched in surprise, curiosity clear on his face.
Alara leaned over the sink, retching until her breath steadied. Splashing her face with cold water, she gripped the counter with trembling hands. What was happening to her?
Drawing in a deep breath, she returned.
“I’m leaving, Bora,” she said, her voice still trembling slightly.
But Bora stepped in immediately. “I can’t let you leave like this, Prosecutor. Come, sit down right away,” he insisted, gently yet firmly guiding her by the shoulders.
“No, I’m fine! I’ll rest at home it’ll pass. My stomach’s just been upset lately,” Alara protested.
Bora shook his head sternly. “Prosecutor, if you don’t stay strong, you’ll never find Emir or catch Şirvan. I’ve called a doctor. You’ll get a vitamin boost, and you’ll be fine.”
Alara froze. Anger boiled inside her, but Bora’s probing gaze made her reconsider.
She couldn’t afford to raise suspicion.
Grinding her teeth, she reluctantly sat.
Minutes later, the doctor arrived, administering an IV and an injection. Alara wanted to resist, but soon the spreading calm in her body was undeniable. She really did feel better.
Bora returned, his voice brimming with energy.
“Well, Prosecutor? Feeling better?”
Alara nodded. “Yes. Thank you. Sorry about earlier I was just tense.”
Bora smiled faintly. But that expression on his face Alara noticed it.
“Are you sure it was just tension?” he asked in an odd tone.
Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Bora suddenly grinned wide, throwing up his hands. “Ah, nothing, Prosecutor! Just nonsense,” he said, overly cheerful. “I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
And without rushing, he walked out.
But Alara knew he was hiding something.
What was it?
She didn’t have much time to figure it out. Grabbing her bag, she left the office, heading home to clear her head.
Once there, she took a hot shower, hoping to ease the tension in her muscles. But her mind remained in turmoil. She made herself coffee and sat on the couch, sighing deeply.
But with every sip, the unease grew.
Emir…
She didn’t even know where he was. Was he hungry? Were they torturing him? How were his wounds? Days had passed with no word. She was making plans for him but what if Emir was already…
No. She couldn’t bear the thought.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Alara froze. Who could it be at this hour? Anxiety rose in her chest, but she walked to the door and opened it.
2 stood there.
But he wasn’t alone.
Six others were with him.
Alara’s eyes widened. She didn’t know any of them, but one thing was certain: these were the remaining members of the Wolf Unit.
2 fixed his cold gaze on her. “Aren’t you going to let us in?”
Alara stammered. “Ah sorry. Of course, come in.” She stepped aside.
The men moved quickly and silently. So in sync they seemed like limbs of the same body. Their coordination, their discipline, the way their eyes instantly scanned the surroundings…
Alara couldn’t help but wonder: how had they carried the weight of losing ten of their comrades?
2 sat straight in a chair, crossed his legs, and fixed his gaze on her.
“These are the rest of the Wolf Unit,” he said calmly. “From the right: 4, 7, 9, 11, and 8.”
Alara looked at each man as their number was called. Each gave a small nod in greeting.
Only 8 raised his hand slightly, with a friendly little gesture, as if to say hello.
Suppressing her tension, Alara nodded back.
2 cleared his throat and continued. “We’ve gathered all the intel. Let me give you the short version.”
Alara leaned in, nodding with curiosity.
2 opened his bag, pulling out a file of photographs.
The first one: Şirvan.
“This is Şirvan. He may look like the leader of the networks, but he’s just a pawn.” He flipped through the documents.
Then came three more photos.
Nevzat. Bora. And… her own.
Alara frowned at her picture. 2 tapped on Nevzat’s first.
“Nevzat responsible for covering up the smuggling operations. He leaks information, shields the filth within the state.”
Then he tapped on Alara’s.
“And this is Prosecutor Alara. Former conciliator. Eliminates the ones the organization has cut ties with.”
Alara’s brow shot up. She was angry.
But… he wasn’t wrong.
“All those people I took down… They were already discarded by the organization. Thrown to me as bait.”
Saying it aloud felt like a punch to the gut.
Finally, 2 tapped Bora’s photo.
And with an icy tone, he said:
“Bora. Also known as… Niko.”
Alara’s eyes widened.
Her breath quickened, nausea rising.
“No,” she whispered. “No, that’s impossible. What could Bora have to do with Niko?!”
She shot up from her chair, rage swelling to her throat.
Because she knew that name.
Niko the mastermind of the largest illegal operations in the Middle East. From arms trafficking to human smuggling, he had built his own filthy empire.
How could Bora be connected to him?
But 2’s mocking smile never wavered.
“Niko is the head of the Middle East project. The number one representative of the nations controlling the black market.”
He tapped the file.
“Nevzat’s boss. And by extension… yours, Alara.”
Alara’s breath caught.
Bora…
Had Bora been in her life all this time with such a colossal secret?
She had spoken with him, planned with him, shared her secrets. And he, he had been at the very center of it all.
Her mind raced, replaying every word Bora had ever said, every move he had made, every moment he had supported her. Were they all lies?
She felt trapped.
Caught in a cat and mouse game…
And now she knew she was the mouse.
- Writer
