Chapter 10: Endgame
The Grand Palais, Paris
The Grand Palais loomed in the Parisian night, its glass-and-steel dome glittering under the city’s golden glow. Inside, the world’s elite gathered for an exclusive, off-the-books auction—the kind where money, power, and secrets changed hands in whispered conversations.
Dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, Jasper Hawke adjusted his cufflinks as he strode through the entrance, his posture relaxed but his mind razor-sharp.
Beside him, Evelyn Drake wore a crimson evening gown, her every move measured, her concealed earpiece relaying encrypted chatter from Moreau, who remained stationed in a surveillance van nearby.
The stolen intelligence—the real target of this operation—was being sold tonight. And Jasper had one shot at stopping it.
The Auction Begins
From their vantage point near the marble staircase, Evelyn scanned the crowd. “Recognize anyone?”
Jasper sipped his drink, his gaze sweeping the who’s who of global corruption—arms dealers, former intelligence officials, politicians. Then, his eyes locked onto a face he never expected.
Director Malcolm Voss.
Jasper’s grip tightened. “Voss is here.”
Evelyn followed his line of sight. “Are you sure?”
Jasper smirked. “I never forget a traitor.”
Moreau’s voice crackled in their ears. “Auction’s starting. Whatever we do, we do it fast.”
A masked auctioneer stepped onto the stage, flanked by two guards. A sleek black case was placed on the podium.
The room hushed.
A digital screen behind the auctioneer flickered to life, displaying classified blueprints, schematics, and—Jasper’s stomach twisted—deep-cover intelligence dossiers on international operatives.
Names. Locations. Identities.
This wasn’t just stolen intelligence.
This was a kill list.
And Jasper was on it.
The Betrayal
Bidding started at twenty million euros.
Voss remained silent, watching.
Jasper moved. “I’m getting that case.”
Evelyn subtly reached for her clutch, where a concealed flash drive rested. “We need to get to the data first.”
Moreau cut in. “Security’s tight. Cameras everywhere. You’re gonna need a distraction.”
Jasper smirked. “I’ll handle it.”
As the bid climbed past fifty million, Jasper walked toward the auctioneer’s stage, his path taking him directly toward Voss.
The older man raised an eyebrow, amused. “Hawke.”
Jasper smiled coldly. “Didn’t expect to see me?”
Voss chuckled. “On the contrary. I knew you’d make it this far.”
Jasper kept his voice even. “Why sell intelligence that could burn your own network?”
Voss leaned in. “Because it’s not my network anymore.” He motioned subtly to the stage. “This list? It’s already sold.”
Jasper’s pulse quickened. “To who?”
A sharp click.
Jasper felt the cold barrel of a gun press against his spine.
He didn’t turn. He already knew who held it.
Evelyn.
His expression didn’t change, but inside, the realization struck like a bullet.
Moreau’s voice crackled. “Hawke? What’s happening?”
Evelyn exhaled. “I’m sorry, Jasper.”
The pieces fell into place.
Evelyn had been feeding Voss information the entire time.
Jasper forced a smirk. “Should’ve known. You played the long game well.”
She hesitated. “It wasn’t personal.”
Jasper shifted slightly, just enough to feel the angle of the gun. “No. It never is.”
The Last Move
The auctioneer declared the final bid—eighty million euros—and signaled the guards to take the case to a private buyer.
Jasper moved.
In one fluid motion, he twisted, grabbing Evelyn’s wrist and forcing her gun downward. A single shot rang out, striking the floor.
The room erupted into chaos.
Security stormed in. The case was being rushed toward the VIP exit.
Jasper sprinted, weaving through the crowd, his heart pounding.
Moreau’s voice was sharp. “Hawke! Get that case!”
Two guards flanked the exit.
Jasper grabbed a champagne bottle from a passing tray, hurling it into the nearest guard’s face. Glass shattered, blood spraying.
The second guard raised his weapon—too slow.
Jasper drove an elbow into his throat, grabbing his gun as he fell.
Ahead, the buyer—a Middle Eastern billionaire—was being escorted into a waiting armored car, the case secured inside.
Jasper fired. Two clean shots.
The driver slumped forward, the car skidding to a stop.
Jasper sprinted, yanking the passenger door open just as the buyer fumbled for a pistol.
One punch.
The man collapsed.
Jasper grabbed the case, his breath ragged.
In the distance, sirens blared.
Moreau: “Time to go!”
Jasper turned to see Evelyn watching him from the crowd.
Their eyes met.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then she disappeared into the chaos.
Jasper exhaled.
Another ghost left behind.
The Aftermath
By sunrise, the stolen intelligence was destroyed.
Voss had vanished—again.
Jasper stood by the Seine, watching the water ripple.
Moreau approached, hands in his pockets. “So, what now?”
Jasper smirked. “There’s always another war.”
Moreau nodded. “And Evelyn?”
Jasper exhaled. “She made her choice.”
Moreau chuckled. “So did you.”
Jasper turned, walking away.
The game never ended.
And neither did he.
