Chapter 9: The Vault Beneath Prague
The Czech countryside blurred past as Hawke maneuvered the SUV through the winding roads outside Prague. The sky was dark, the moon casting an eerie glow over the distant city skyline. Inside the vehicle, tension hung thick.
Seated beside him, Celeste Moreau was silent, fingers tracing the outline of the cipher key in her palm. In the back, Vega and Richter checked their weapons, their expressions grim.
“We’re running out of time,” Vega muttered.
Hawke’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. No tails. But that wouldn’t last.
“How deep is this vault?” he asked, voice low.
Moreau exhaled. “Buried under layers of reinforced steel, hidden beneath the ruins of an abandoned monastery. It was meant to be forgotten.”
Richter scoffed. “Looks like someone remembered.”
Moreau met Hawke’s gaze. “Scorpio’s men will be waiting.”
Hawke’s grip on the wheel tightened. “Then we don’t give them a choice.”
The Descent into Darkness
The SUV pulled up near the crumbling remnants of the monastery, a forgotten relic on the outskirts of Prague. Overgrown vines snaked across the stone walls, the windows hollowed out by time.
They moved fast—Hawke in the lead, Glock drawn, followed by Moreau and Vega, with Richter covering their six.
Inside, the air was thick with dampness. At the center of the ruined cathedral was a stone trapdoor, partially concealed beneath broken pews and debris.
Moreau knelt, brushing away dust. “This is it.”
Richter examined the edges. “No visible traps.”
Hawke nodded. “Visible doesn’t mean safe.”
Vega produced a fiber-optic camera, threading it into the gaps. The feed showed a narrow passageway, empty—but too quiet.
Moreau inserted the cipher key into a hidden slot carved into the stone.
A faint click.
Then the ground rumbled. The trapdoor split apart, revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.
Hawke exhaled. “No turning back.”
The Vault of Project Tantalus
They moved cautiously down the winding staircase, flashlights cutting through the thick blackness. The air grew colder, the scent of aged metal and decay filling their lungs.
At the bottom, they found themselves in a massive underground chamber, the architecture far more advanced than its age suggested. The walls gleamed with reinforced steel, and at the center stood a vault door the size of a bank’s, emblazoned with a forgotten insignia.
“This was never just a Cold War hideout,” Richter murmured.
Moreau approached the control panel beside the door. A biometric scanner, an outdated keypad, and a slot for the cipher key.
“This is it,” she whispered. “The entrance to everything.”
Hawke kept his weapon raised. “Then let’s open it.”
Moreau inserted the key and placed her palm on the scanner. The panel beeped, and the vault door shuddered.
A metallic groan echoed as the door slowly slid open.
The team tensed. Beyond the threshold lay a sight none of them had expected.
The Secrets Within
Inside the vault, rows of classified files lined the walls, alongside shelves stacked with decommissioned weapons, vials of unknown substances, and sealed containers marked with symbols of biohazard warnings.
But at the center of the chamber stood a single glass case.
Inside it—a document, aged and yellowed, locked behind reinforced plating.
Vega moved closer, scanning the inscription above the case.
Moreau read it aloud.
“Project Tantalus Directive—Final Protocol.”
Richter shook his head. “This isn’t just about survival. It’s about control.”
Hawke stepped forward, his gaze locked on the document. If this contained what he suspected, it could rewrite history.
He reached out—
A sharp beep rang through the chamber.
Vega turned. “Movement up top.”
Hawke pulled his hand back. “We’re not alone.”
Scorpio Arrives
A sudden explosion ripped through the stairwell entrance, sending debris flying.
Hawke lunged for cover, dragging Moreau with him as Scorpio’s men stormed the vault, weapons raised.
Gunfire erupted, bullets ricocheting off the reinforced walls.
Richter and Vega fired back, taking down two operatives as Hawke scanned the chamber for an escape route.
Moreau pulled a small EMP charge from her belt. “We can’t let them take this.”
Hawke met her gaze. “Do it.”
Moreau tossed the device at the vault’s mainframe.
A surge of energy crackled—all systems went dark.
The files, the data, everything—wiped.
Hawke grabbed the Project Tantalus directive, tucking it into his vest.
“Move!”
The Escape Route
The team fell back toward a secondary tunnel exit, barely staying ahead of Scorpio’s reinforcements. Gunfire followed them, the sound of boots echoing through the underground corridors.
Hawke led the way, navigating the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the monastery.
At last—a breach point. A rusted metal grate led to the riverbanks outside the city.
One by one, they slipped through the exit, disappearing into the night.
Breathing heavily, Hawke turned back toward the ruins.
The vault had been sealed, its secrets erased.
But the directive in his hands?
That was a war waiting to happen.
