Chapter 1: The Dead Man’s Message
The wind howled through the narrow streets of Vienna, carrying the scent of rain and diesel. Jasper Hawke moved like a ghost through the crowded Naschmarkt, his eyes scanning the bustling stalls of fruit vendors and spice merchants. Beneath the lively chatter and clinking of glasses from nearby cafés, he felt it—the unease of being watched.
He hadn’t planned on coming here. Marius Keller, an old ally from his covert days, had sent him a message—three words typed in an encrypted email:
“Find the cipher.”
It was signed with Keller’s old call sign, one Hawke hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. The problem? Keller had been dead for three years.
The Drop
Hawke navigated past a row of outdoor seating, where tourists laughed over oversized mugs of beer. He spotted the drop location: a weathered newspaper stand, half-covered by a tattered awning. A small handwritten sign in German read “Out of Order.”
He moved casually, slipping between a pair of locals arguing over football. Beneath the rusted stand, he reached for what he already knew would be there—a small, black envelope. Inside was a single flash drive, taped to a folded piece of paper.
The note read:
“Meet me at the old chapel. Midnight.”
Hawke exhaled slowly. He knew the place. St. Augustine’s Chapel, a forgotten relic on the outskirts of Vienna, its history buried beneath the weight of war and espionage.
He didn’t believe in ghosts, but if Marius Keller was reaching out from beyond the grave, someone had gone through a lot of trouble to make it happen.
The Pursuit
Hawke pocketed the envelope and started walking. But instincts honed through years in the field sent a whisper of warning through his nerves.
He wasn’t alone.
A reflection in the glass of a parked car revealed them—two men in dark coats, moving with precision through the crowd. Professionals.
Hawke turned into a side alley, quickening his pace. The moment he crossed into the shadows, the men followed. Confirmation.
He didn’t have time for a fight, not in the open. Slipping between two parked motorcycles, he ducked into a narrow passage between buildings. The footsteps behind him grew louder. They weren’t trying to be subtle anymore.
Hawke reached the end of the alley—a dead end. Exactly what he needed.
As the first pursuer stepped into the confined space, Hawke moved. A swift pivot, a strike to the throat, and the man collapsed, gasping for air. The second attacker barely had time to react before Hawke drove an elbow into his ribs, spun him around, and smashed his head against the brick wall.
Both men were down. No ID. No insignias. But definitely trained.
Something told him this was only the beginning.
Midnight at St. Augustine’s
The chapel was abandoned, its stone walls cracked by time. Hawke moved through the ruined interior, past broken pews and shattered stained glass. At the altar, a single candle flickered, casting a ghostly glow.
A figure sat in the shadows.
Hawke’s breath hitched for just a moment. The man was battered, his left arm in a sling, face lined with age and fatigue. But there was no mistaking him.
Marius Keller was alive.
“I don’t have much time,” Keller rasped. “They’re coming for me, and now they’ll come for you.”
Hawke narrowed his eyes. “Who?”
Keller reached into his coat and handed him a folded document. “The last cipher. If they get it, the world burns.”
Before Hawke could respond, the windows shattered. Gunfire erupted.
The Beginning of the End
Hawke grabbed Keller and dove behind the altar as bullets shredded the wooden pews. Shadows moved outside, black-clad figures closing in.
Keller coughed, blood speckling his lips. “You need to run. Take the cipher and finish this.”
Hawke clenched his jaw. He had no idea what he had just stepped into, but one thing was certain.
He was already under fire.
