Chapter 5: The Ghost Within
Vienna, Austria – 04:15 Hours
Jasper Hawke stared at the screen, his expression unreadable. The file sat there like a death sentence. His name. On a sanctioned kill list.
He exhaled slowly, shutting his laptop. Someone wanted him dead. Someone inside his own agency.
Wren’s voice crackled through the line. “Hawke, tell me you’re not just sitting there.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Well, think faster, mate, because if this file is real, you’re already a walking ghost. The moment they realize it’s been decrypted, they’ll come for you.”
Hawke’s jaw tightened. No. He wouldn’t wait for them to make the first move.
“Who’s running the operation?” he asked.
“That’s where it gets messy.” Wren hesitated. “There’s no official name. No department logs. But someone signed off on it under the clearance level ‘Theta Directive.’ That’s high, Hawke. Presidential-level.”
Hawke frowned. He knew how the system worked—Theta meant ultra-classified, an operation compartmentalized so deeply that even the agency’s own leadership might not have full visibility.
This wasn’t just an assassination order. This was a purge.
“Do we have a location?”
“There’s a command node running the operation out of Berlin,” Wren said. “Secure facility, underground. Not exactly open for visitors.”
Hawke smirked. “Good thing I never RSVP.”
“You’re insane.”
“Debatable.”
Hawke reached for his gear. He didn’t have time to sleep, not anymore.
“I need an entry point,” he said. “Find me a way inside.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up, but Hawke…if they put your name on that list, they won’t stop. You can’t outrun this forever.”
Hawke holstered his weapon and grabbed his coat.
“Then I won’t run.”
Berlin, Germany – 22:45 Hours
The private train car rocked gently as it cut through the German countryside. Hawke leaned against the window, watching the blurred lights of distant villages pass by. Hours from now, he’d be in the lion’s den.
He had switched identities, forged travel documents, and erased his digital footprint before leaving Vienna. But deep down, he knew it wouldn’t matter. They would come.
He glanced at the reflection in the window. Sophia.
She was seated across from him, arms crossed, watching. He hadn’t heard her enter. She was good.
“You’re predictable,” she said.
Hawke smirked. “And you’re persistent.”
“Why Berlin?”
He met her gaze. “Why are you following me?”
Silence. Then a small smile. “Because I know where you’re going. And you’ll need my help.”
Hawke studied her carefully. “I don’t trust you.”
“You never did.”
“Because last time I did, you disappeared.”
Sophia’s smile faded. She looked away, out the window. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me.”
She hesitated, then leaned in slightly. “Berlin isn’t just a command post, Hawke. It’s where they built it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Built what?”
She exhaled. “Project Scythe wasn’t always an assassination program. It started as something else—a predictive AI. A system designed to eliminate threats before they happened.”
Hawke’s stomach tightened. “Preemptive elimination?”
Sophia nodded. “The AI wasn’t just identifying threats. It was deciding who should live and who should die.”
Hawke clenched his fists. “And I assume someone inside the agency hijacked it.”
She nodded. “Your name is on the list because the system flagged you as a liability. They’re eliminating assets who know too much. People who could expose the program.”
Hawke leaned back, letting the weight of the revelation settle.
“So,” he said finally. “Who’s at the top?”
Sophia hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, she said:
“Director Langley.”
Hawke’s pulse slowed.
Langley. The head of covert operations. The man who had recruited him. The man who had once saved his life.
And now, the man who had signed his death warrant.
Berlin, Germany – 01:10 Hours
The city stretched before them in a sea of lights and shadows. Hawke and Sophia moved through the backstreets, avoiding cameras and checkpoints.
The target: A classified sub-level beneath a government research facility.
Sophia had secured them entry credentials, but once they were inside, they’d be on their own.
Hawke checked his sidearm. “Last chance to walk away.”
Sophia smirked. “You know I won’t.”
He nodded once. “Then let’s finish this.”
They disappeared into the night.
The game was no longer about survival. It was about war.
