CHAPTER 144: Insurrection-13

CHAPTER 144: Insurrection-13

The van roared through the damp night as the city lights passed in orange bands. Elena Strauss slumped into the back seat, her skirt damp, her face still livid with the fear that had gripped her minutes before. She pulled out her phone with a trembling hand, dialed a number, and while waiting, squeezed the phone case until her nails dug into the skin.

The voice on the other end cut in briefly, professional: Mara Voss.

"Mara," said Elena without greeting. "Are you in position?"

A short, mechanical silence was heard, like that of someone listening to orders at dusk. Mara wasn't one for unnecessary words; her voice, when it came, was precise, cold.

"Yes."

Elena let out a breath that was a mix of laughter and tears. Rage rose in her like lava.

"I want you to finish off Marcus Blackwood, Fénix Rogers, and Agnes Templeton," she said, and the words fell hard inside the metallic interior of the vehicle. "I want their heads on a platter before dawn. Do you understand me?"

Mara didn't answer immediately. When she did, it was without affection or emotion, as if reciting a report.

"Understood."

Elena fixed her gaze on the window as if looking at an invisible enemy.

"Don't fail me, Mara." Her voice was no longer just an order; it was a contained scream. "Don't come back without them. I don't want excuses, I don't want mitigating factors. If any of them escape, I'll pay you back in another way… and I'm not talking about rewards."

The silence of the response was a heartbeat. Mara breathed, once, and spoke with that dryness that chilled.

"I won't return without them."

Elena clenched her teeth, the veins on her neck visible. She couldn't trust the phrase to be simply accepted; she needed more flesh than a promise.

"I give you twelve hours," she said. "Twelve hours to cut them off at the root. And if for some reason you think politics will save you, I remind you who put you in this orbit: I put you there. And I'll take away whatever is necessary. If you return without results, I promise your name and your story will disappear just as easily. Is that clear?"

Mara didn't hesitate for a second.

"Clear."

There was a pause; Elena felt the rage return to her throat.

"And Mara…" she added, her voice now very low, venomous. "Don't fail me. Because if you fail me, your end will be public and exemplary. I'll hand you over to those who made you, I'll make you pay with exposure, with the loss of what keeps you standing. I'm not suggesting anything gentle."

A metallic noise on the line, as if the other was slicing a smile with her throat. Mara replied, as cutting as ever.

"I'll do whatever it takes."

Elena dropped the phone onto the seat, her hands trembling. The van moved forward through the rain and lights. Outside, the city breathed indifferently; inside, in that moving compartment, an order had been thrown like a stone into water. Its ripples would arrive, relentless, and dawn promised blood or silence.

Elena rested her forehead against the window and murmured to herself, like an oath:

"I don't want to see them again. I don't want to be reminded by their looks… bring me their heads, Mara. And let no one speak of this again without my authorization."

Somewhere in Munich…

The car screeched on the broken cobblestones and stopped just as the purple sun kissed the horizon. The street wasn't paved: it was dust, loose stones, and half-collapsed facades casting long, twisted shadows. Agnes looked around nervously and broke the silence.

"Why here?" she asked, clutching her purse to her body.

Marcus closed the trunk with a contained slam and got out of the car with his backpack on his shoulder. He looked at the house in front of them: a half-finished dwelling, with crumbling plaster and boards nailed over a window. It wasn't a pleasant place, but it had the essentials they needed.

"Because it's the only place they haven't been able to follow us to," Marcus replied curtly. "No one saw us come in; no cameras, no mobile surveillance. If we're going to stay until dawn, I prefer this dust to glass offices."

Fénix got out unhurriedly and stretched his back, his expression hard as stone. He said nothing; let his gaze fix on the facade and then looked at Agnes with a gesture meant to reassure her. The three of them entered.

The house smelled of damp and old plaster. When they flicked the creaky switch, a yellow bulb cast a circle of light: the only source in an almost empty room. There was a low table, three mismatched chairs, and windows with cracked panes letting in gusts of cold air. The furniture seemed held together by will more than screws.

Agnes approached the table with trembling hands and looked at Marcus, still unsure.

"And why didn't we go straight to Enid Corp?" she asked. "Shouldn't we warn her? She… she can help us."

Marcus dropped the backpack on the floor and, with slow movements, opened one of the folders. His fingers brushed the papers as if that gave him back some security.

"Going straight to Enid Corp would have been bullshit," he said bluntly. "First: if Elena publicly links this to Enid Corp, the corporation will be trapped and they'll hang us out to dry. Enid would have to distance herself for survival, and we'd lose any coverage she could give us."
"Second: Enid is in the public eye right now. Her offices are full of cameras, guards, and people reporting any movement. If we show up injured with half-baked proof, the only thing we achieve is giving them political ammunition to accuse us."
"Third: It's likely Elena is already hunting for us. If we leave a clear trail leading to Enid, everything accelerates," Marcus continued. "The prudent thing is to disappear, consolidate evidence, and protect witnesses. Then, with everything verified, Enid can move her channels with less risk."