Chapter 14 - The Bait
By Wednesday morning, the trap was set.
Nora sat at an open-air cafe in the historic waterfront district, nursing a cup of black coffee. The morning sun reflected off the gray water of the harbor, casting long, sharp shadows across the cobblestone plaza.
She wore a dark trench coat, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. On the table beside her coffee cup sat a small, encrypted flash drive containing dummy telemetry codes—faked access keys to Port Mercer’s primary shipping grid.
Across the street, parked discreetly in an unmarked gray van, Roman and a four-man tactical team monitored every movement on high-resolution monitors.
“She’s exposed,” Marcus’s voice crackled through Nora’s tiny wireless earpiece. “Keep your eyes on the alley to your left. Two individuals moving fast past the fish market.”
Nora didn't turn her head. She took a slow sip of her coffee, her heart hammering a steady, controlled rhythm against her ribs.
A shadow fell across her table.
Two men in charcoal suits—men carrying themselves with the unmistakable stiffness of former military operators—stepped out of the narrow alleyway. The lead enforcer, a scarred brute with cold, dead eyes, slid into the empty chair opposite her without an invitation.
“Miss Hayes,” the enforcer said in English, his voice flat and threatening. “Colonel Vance sends his regards. And he’d like the drive on the table before things get messy for your brother over at St. Jude’s.”
Nora looked down at the flash drive, then raised her eyes to meet the enforcer’s gaze.
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“Tell the colonel,” Nora said smoothly, switching instantly to fluent Levantine Arabic, her voice carrying a calm, mocking edge, “that a stray dog doesn't drop its bone just because an old master whistles.”
The enforcer’s eyes widened in sudden recognition of the insult, but before he could reach for his jacket, the glass windows of the cafe shattered inward with a deafening crash.
