Shadows of Loyalty

Chapter 7

The black SUV moved through the night like a shadow, headlights dimmed to near invisibility as it rolled into the heavily fortified perimeter. Buried beneath a forgotten warehouse on the outskirts of Langley, Virginia, the entrance to one of the CIA’s most secret facilities sat hidden behind biometric locks and steel-reinforced concrete. Only a handful of living people even knew it existed.

Mason, Quinn, and Gary stepped out of the SUV first, silent and focused. The air was heavy with anticipation. Behind them, another vehicle arrived. Calvin emerged in his custom-tailored coat and scarf, a smirk already tugging at his lips. Sasha followed—dead-eyed, elegant, and dangerous. Her hazel-green eyes alert, scanning the perimeter with automatic precision.

The five of them stepped inside, the vault-like door hissing shut behind them. The facility’s interior was sterile, all concrete and steel, lined with screens that showed feeds from around the world. This was where ghosts came to work.

Mason led them into a secure operations room, where monitors displayed encrypted satellite images, heat signatures, and scrolling lines of code. She stood at the head of the table and waited until all five were seated.

"This mission does not exist," Mason began, her tone low and commanding. "There will be no support from Langley. No backups. No files. No clean-up crew. You get in, get what we need, and disappear."

Quinn and Gary exchanged a glance. This was deeper than any off-the-books op they’d ever been part of.

"You’re telling us this is blacker than black?" Calvin asked, his voice silky, his tone laced with amusement.

"No," Mason replied. "I’m telling you this is pitch-f*****g-dark. If any of you get caught, no one will save you."

She turned to Calvin and Sasha. "Which brings me to my next point—I still don’t trust either of you."

Calvin gasped theatrically, placing a hand over his chest. "Director Mason, you wound me. I thought we were rebuilding trust."

"Save it. We’re embedding trackers. Right now."

She motioned to Gary, who already had two microchip injectors in hand. Calvin’s smirk widened.

"I assume you’re not placing those somewhere unpleasant, are you, Mr. Tech Specialist?"

"Base of the neck, where your neck melts your shoulder." Gary said with a shrug. "You’ll barely feel it."

"That’s what she said," Calvin replied with a grin.

Sasha stepped forward without protest. Her expression remained emotionless, but her eyes locked onto Gary with a hint of mischief. "Be gentle with me, sweetheart. I bruise easily."

Gary blinked. "Uh... right. Just hold still."

He pressed the injector into the crook of her neck. The tiny chip embedded itself beneath the skin with a quiet hiss. Sasha barely flinched.

"All done."

"Mmm," she hummed, stepping back. "Your hands are cold."

"That’s because I work with corpses," Gary muttered.

"So do I," Sasha replied, her lips twitching ever so slightly.

Calvin took his turn next. He dramatically rolled his collar to the side. "Do your worst."

Gary didn’t hesitate, jabbing the injector in place. Calvin winced theatrically and then gave a dramatic sigh. "You better buy me dinner after this."

Mason didn’t smile. "Now that your toys are in place, let’s talk business."

She brought up a map of Germany, the satellite image zooming into a remote forest region near the border. "This is where The Hand of Justice has set up their primary base of operations. It’s underground, reinforced, and guarded twenty-four-seven by highly trained operatives. We’ve confirmed that several known rogue agents are inside."

"We talking military rogue or CIA rogue?" Quinn asked.

"Both. It’s a buffet of traitors. And you’re going in."

Quinn leaned forward. "What’s the objective?"

"They’re building something," Mason said. "Some kind of data hub. A central archive of all their intel, contacts, and upcoming operations. I want it."

"You want it stolen or destroyed?" Sasha asked.

"Stolen," Mason replied. "If it comes to it, destroy it. But only if it’s compromised."

Sasha gave a single nod. Quinn studied her, noting how she absorbed the details without blinking.

"You’ll be going in under the radar. No air support. No tactical team. Just you five. You’ll pose as weapons traffickers, using an underground network Calvin still has access to."

Calvin adjusted his cufflinks. "Ah, the perks of a tainted past."

Gary pulled out a duffel bag and placed it on the table, unzipping it to reveal tactical gear, burner phones, encrypted comms, and forged identities.

"We go dark as soon as we land," Gary said. "I’ve pre-loaded the gear with ghost protocols. If you activate the panic button, all data will self-destruct in under five seconds."

"We’ll be splitting into two teams once we’re inside," Mason continued. "Calvin and Sasha will draw attention, infiltrate through the front posing as dealers. Quinn and Gary will breach from the east tunnel, planted explosives and distraction tech in hand. I’ll coordinate from a dead zone safehouse."

Quinn stood. "When do we leave?"

"Wheels up in two hours," Mason replied. "And remember—no one comes back until we have what we need or this whole base is ash."

As they dispersed to prep, Sasha trailed behind Gary, poking around the duffel bags like a curious cat.

"So," she said, her voice smooth and detached, "how many people have you seen die in the field?"

Gary glanced sideways. "Why? You planning on making me one of them?"

She gave him a faint smirk. "Maybe. But not today."

He groaned and muttered, "Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this trip?"

Sasha’s eyes glittered. "Because you’re smart."

Within two hours, they will be airborne, five ghosts in a steel bird, bound for a nation that had no idea what was coming.

Germany was waiting.

So was war.

As the team began dispersing to grab gear and settle logistics, Quinn stepped away from the table, pulling out his secure phone. He stared at the screen for a moment, debating if this call was even the right thing to do. But he couldn’t leave without hearing her voice—at least not this time.

He dialed Alicia.

It rang twice before she picked up, her voice soft with sleep. “Quinn?”

“Hey,” he said quietly, glancing around the dim, steel-walled corridor. “I’m sorry for waking you.”

There was a pause, then a gentle, “It’s okay. What’s going on?”

“I have to leave town. It’s a mission,” he said, voice tight. “I can’t say where or for how long, just… a few days. Maybe more.”

Another pause.

“You’ll call me?” she asked.

Quinn’s chest tightened. “Yeah. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

She was silent again for a second, then said, “Be careful.”

“I will,” he replied. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He ended the call and tucked the phone away, standing there for a beat as the silence returned. Missions were never easy to explain. But lying to her? That was worse. The truth was, he didn’t know if he could keep that promise—not with what they were walking into.

Behind him, Sasha’s voice broke the quiet.

“Awww, sweet little phone call to the missus?” she said, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, an amused smirk curling her lips. “Tell her you’re off to save the world?”

Quinn shot her a look. “I don’t recall asking for your commentary.”

“Oh, don’t get all grumpy, boy scout.” She pushed off the wall and walked past him, graceful as a shadow. “You just looked so… emotional. I had to make sure your mascara wasn’t running.”

Quinn clenched his jaw. “Don’t test me.”

“Test you?” she said over her shoulder, throwing him a glance. “Darling, this is the test.”

Calvin chuckled from down the hallway. “She’s just warming up.”

Quinn exhaled slowly, muttering under his breath. This mission was going to be hell—and not just because of the enemy.