Episode 8: The Trap
262 Words
Dylan intercepted a shadow-auction transaction four days later: a viewing appointment for a relic in the lower Thamesford docklands, scheduled for noon Thursday.
“IP bounced four countries,” Dylan explained, pulling up satellite imagery. “Traceable only because they left a deliberate trail. They want us there. It’s an ambush.”
“We still go,” Caspian said.
The team prepped meticulously: earpiece comms, van surveillance, Dylan posted on overwatch, Evelyn on perimeter watch.
They entered the warehouse at noon. The space was empty, hollow, echoing—exactly as the bait promised.
“East exit now,” Evelyn barked over comms.
Three men blocked the doorway, trained and coordinated, moving instantly to split Lyric from Caspian. Their target was clear: extract the appraiser.
Lyric couldn’t fight, but he could observe. He ducked behind steel shelving, speaking fast into his mic. “Two military-soled hostiles, one specialist Suryan construction boot. Third man has regional mercenary ties.”
Seconds later, precise, controlled movement cut through the warehouse chaos.
“Thank you,” Caspian said over comms, calm amid the conflict.
They were back in the van within seven minutes, the ambush neutralized.
Evelyn jotted notes in her notebook. “Cortisol regulation. Your footwear analysis was accurate, by the way.”
Lyric stared at the back of Caspian’s neck, rigid and unyielding. The Suryan mercenary connection was no coincidence. Caspian knew more than he’d said—again.
“Debrief upstairs,” Caspian said, his tone giving nothing away.
Lyric filed the clue away, the Suryan boot print a sharp, unanswered question in his mind.
- Writer
