In the underground vault, n searched every corner. There were many things inside—a closet with a man’s clothes, a laboratory counter for research, books regarding chemicals and reactions, and so untouched chemicals.
There seed to be a lot more, but this more was actually less.
None of the items—at least, none that were still intact—provided enough information.
The leader of the group squatted near a small pile of ash, picking up a half-burned piece of paper. It was a printed photo of soone, but most of it had already burned, making the person unrecognizable.
"..." His mouth ford a thin line, eyes falling on the pile of ash. The smoke and burnt papers were still fresh—the only proof that soone had been here before them.
His eyes glinted as his jaw tightened.
Where did they go? he wondered. If they left before we ca in, we would’ve noticed. I had the area sealed with our n.
Anyone who ca out of that hatch door or the back alley would’ve been seen. After all, they had just received the coordinates to this place and were told to raid it. Their only order was simple: burn all the evidence in this place.
Any information that could be crucial to their organization had to be destroyed.
That part was already done—before they even arrived. Which ant the person, or people, who burned those docunts had seen far more than they should have.
The question now was: how did they escape?
There was only one entrance and exit, and that was the hatch door. There was another path, one that led past the space where the vault entrance was located. But that led to a dead end. He assud it was designed as a distraction, or sothing Jonathan—the man who owned this vault—had built to buy ti in an ergency.
There’s only one explanation for how soone could disappear without getting noticed, the commander thought grimly. A secret door.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
A loud ringing suddenly echoed through the vault.
The man raised his head and turned. So of his n were holding devices, scanning the walls and floor. His scarred eyes moved to the source of the sound, spotting one of the n holding a device that was now flashing and beeping rapidly.
The man moved it slightly, causing it to beep even louder. Then he looked at the commander.
"Commander, there’s probably sothing here," he said. "Maybe a hidden door or a secret compartnt."
"Break it down," the commander ordered.
"Yes, sir!"
So n dragged a sledgehamr over and began pounding on the tiled wall.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
With each strike, tiles shattered and flew in different directions. Bits of cent began to crumble and scatter across the floor.
BAM!
So n stepped back to avoid the debris, while the commander stood unfazed. He watched as they continued smashing the wall until a large chunk of concrete broke loose.
Everyone froze as the man who had cracked it moved forward. He inspected the opening before turning to their leader.
"Commander, it’s a door," he reported.
The commander nodded, unsurprised. For soone as secretive and cunning as Jonathan, this was expected.
"Tear it all down."
With renewed focus, the n unleashed everything they had on the wall. Minutes passed in relentless effort until the opening widened into a gaping hole—blocked by steel.
Then, one of the n began attaching sothing to the steel door.
Everyone watched him affix the device. Then, he turned to the commander.
"Ready, sir."
"Get out of here," the commander ordered, already turning on his heel.
His n followed, so taking cover just outside the vault entrance. The man who had planted the device held another small controller in his hand. He looked toward the commander—and when the latter gave a nod, he pressed the only button on the device.
Beep... beep... BOOM!
---
[Back to the Love Motel]
Dean and Atlas quietly read through the docunts they had retrieved from the secret passage’s drawers. They didn’t talk, simply scanning anything that caught their interest.
"Huh..." Dean tilted his head, holding a ledger and skimming it. "I shouldn’t be reading this."
Yet here he was, flipping through the slush fund’s numbers.
"Senator Smith is really sothing, huh?" he muttered, not surprised. "With this kind of campaign budget... well, this explains a lot."
Corruption didn’t shock Dean. After all, the Pierson family had governnt mbers in their pocket. Not directly through Zoren, but he knew so relatives were keeping people in power on their payroll to make things easier.
He had little hope for people in power. Not all of them were bad—but a handful followed wherever the money went. And that was a cruel reality, now and likely forever.
"I wonder if he gathered all this himself or had help?" Dean asked aloud. "No way Jonathan pulled this off alone. If he did, he’d have had to start young... which I doubt."
Atlas, who had been silently analyzing the papers in his hand, glanced at Dean. Unlike him, Atlas didn’t doubt Jonathan had started early. Though it was possible he’d had help, Atlas assud—for now—that this was Jonathan’s work alone.
’He’s not the type to trust anyone,’ Atlas thought, his eyes drifting back to the contracts in his hand. ’And if I’m right... he’s part of the sa organization being run by that Naylani Pierson look-alike.’
Atlas paused. A cold glint flickered in his eyes.
’If he’s a mber, but also gathering intel that could destroy the organization, then the chances of him working with soone else are close to zero.’
This was a dangerous path Jonathan had chosen. A path of betrayal. And if Atlas’s guess was correct... the organization had finally caught on to his activities.
Silence settled over the motel room. Despite the distance between them, both n could hear each other’s quiet breathing.
But then...
They heard sothing.
The sound was faint, but the ground trembled slightly beneath them.
"What is that?" Dean looked up. "An earthquake?"
Atlas t his gaze briefly before turning his head toward the shelf they had co from.
"I don’t think so," he said.
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