Chapter Eighteen Amethyst
I arrive at work at six forty-five. Fifteen minutes earlier than usual.
The parking lot is already half full. People are arriving early.
Nervous. Alert. Looking over their shoulders.
I swipe my badge. The guard doesn’t just check his tablet.
He studies my face. Compares it to something on his screen.
Takes five seconds longer than yesterday.
Then nods. I’m through. The operations floor is different.
Again. Worse than yesterday. Four guards now.
Stationed at the corners. Watching everyone.
Cataloging movements. Faces. I walk to my workstation.
Log in. The screen loads. Normal. But nothing is normal.
At seven-fifteen, Enzo arrives. All alone this time. No Mateo. Because Mateo is gone. He walks through the floor. Slow. Deliberate. Stops at workstations. Asks questions. His voice is low. Controlled. But I can see the tension in his shoulders. The sharpness in his eyes. He reaches my desk. Stops.
“Amethyst."
I look up. “Enzo."
“Three people," he says. “Three of my best people. Gone."
I nod. Say nothing.
“Rafe. Lucia. Mateo." He’s watching my face. Studying. “All within five days."
“I know."
“What do you think that means?"
A test. He’s probing for inconsistencies. I take a second too long to answer. Deliberate. Calculated.
“Either someone’s targeting the organization," I say carefully, “or it’s an extraordinary coincidence."
“You don’t believe in coincidences." A statement. Not a question. He’s fishing for information.
“No."
“Neither do I."
He leans against the edge of my desk. Casual. But his eyes are sharp. Predatory.
“You worked with all three of them."
“Yes."
“Closely."
“On various operations. Yes."
“And you noticed nothing unusual."
Not a question. A statement. Accusation underneath. I hold his gaze. Steady.
“I noticed Rafe stayed late. Lucia ran alone. Mateo went to the gym. All routine. All normal."
“Until they weren’t."
“Until they disappeared."
Silence. He’s still watching. Calculating.
“If you were hunting us," he says quietly, “how would you do it?"
My pulse doesn’t change. My expression doesn’t shift.
“I’d study patterns," I say. “Find vulnerabilities. Strike when targets are isolated. Make it look unconnected."
“Exactly what happened."
“Yes."
“So either we have a very intelligent enemy," he says, “or we have a traitor."
The word hangs. Heavy. Dangerous.
“Both are possible," I say. He straightens. Steps back. “Everyone is being questioned today. Individually. You’ll be called to my office this afternoon."
“Understood."
He walks away. I return to my screen. Type. Breathe. He suspects. Maybe not me specifically. But he suspects someone. And he’s looking.
At ten-thirty the floor is completely silent.
No conversations. No speculation. Just work.
Tense. Fearful. People are being called to Enzo’s office.
One by one. Fifteen-minute intervals. They come back pale, shaken.
No one talks about what was asked. I watch the pattern.
He’s working through the entire operations team.
Systematically. Looking for inconsistencies. Lies. Guilt. My turn will come. Soon.
At two-forty-five my name was finally called.
“Amethyst." A guard. Standing at my workstation. “Enzo wants to see you."
I stand. Follow him. Down the corridor. To Enzo’s office. The door is closed. The guard knocks.
“Come in."
I enter. The door closes behind me. Enzo is behind his desk. Another man is standing in the corner. Tall. Broad. Arms crossed. Security. Or worse.
“Sit," Enzo says.
I sit. He opens a folder. Slides three photos across the desk. Rafe. Lucia. Mateo.
“Tell me about them," he says.
“I worked with Rafe on server infrastructure. Lucia on route coordination. Mateo on tactical logistics."
“How well did you know them?"
“Professionally. Not personally."
“Did any of them confide in you?"
“No."
“Did you notice anything unusual in their behavior before they disappeared?"
“No."
“Where were you on the day Rafe disappeared at between the times of ten and midnight?"
Rafe’s timeline. “In my room. Asleep."
“Can anyone verify that?"
“No."
“What about a couple days later when between six and eight in the evening?"
Lucia’s timeline. “I left at five in the evening that day. I was in my room. Reviewing operational files."
“Alone?"
“Yes."
“And yesterday between the times of seven and eight?"
Mateo’s timeline. “In my room. Same."
He leans back. Studies me.
“You have no alibi for any of the disappearances."
“Neither does anyone else who lives alone."
“True." Pause. “Why did you come back, Amethyst?"
The question shifts. New angle. Same objective.
“Giltrude was dead. I had nowhere else to go."
“You could have disappeared. Started over."
“I’m not built for civilian life."
“No," he says slowly. “You’re not."
He closes the folder.
“You’re one of the best operatives I’ve seen. Giltrude trained you well."
“Thank you."
“But that also makes you dangerous."
I say nothing.
“If I find out you’re involved in this," he says quietly, “there won’t be a trial. There won’t be questions. There will just be a bullet."
“Understood."
“You’re dismissed."
I stand. Walk to the door. His voice stops me.
“Amethyst."
I turn.
“I’m watching everyone now. Including you."
I nod. Leave. The door closes behind me. I walk back to my workstation. Sit. Log in. My hands are steady. My pulse is steady. But inside. The calculation is running. He suspects. Not just the organization. Me. Specifically. He’s watching. And that means. The window is closing. Fast.
I leave the facility that evening swiping my badge. The guard checks his tablet. Takes longer this time. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Then nods. I’m through. I head to the room. Lock the door. Sit on the edge of the bed.
Think. Enzo is different. Smarter. More careful.
He doesn’t have routines like the others.
Doesn’t leave the facility alone. Doesn’t isolate himself.
He’s surrounded by security. Always. And now he’s suspicious.
Watching. Waiting for a mistake. I can’t use the same methods.
Can’t strike in the street. Can’t make it look like an accident.
He’s too protected. Too alert. I need a different approach.
Something he won’t expect. Something that gets me close.
But what? I run through scenarios. Elimination.
Infiltration. Exposure. None of them work. I stare at the wall and count.
One.
Two.
Three.
At eight I press the button. Wait. Three seconds.
“Amethyst." Kade’s voice. He sounds better today. More focused. Whatever happened last night, it stabilized him.
“Organization in crisis. Security maximum. Final target aware and suspicious."
Silence.
“Suspicious," he repeats.
“Yes."
“Of you?"
“Of everyone. Including me."
Pause. Longer this time. I can hear something. Movement. Pacing. Fast. Frantic.
“Kade."
“How long?" His voice cracks. Not as controlled as when he first answered.
“How long until you can take him?"
“I don’t know yet. He’s different. More protected. I need to find an opening."
“Find it fast."
“I will."
“Amethyst—" He stops. Can’t finish.
“I’m being careful," I say.
“Careful isn’t enough if he suspects you."
“I know."
Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
“If you don’t check in tomorrow," he says finally, “I’m coming."
“I’ll check in."
“Promise me."
“I promise."
The connection cuts. I set the communicator down. I stare at it. Enzo suspects. He’s watching. I need to kill him before suspicion becomes certainty. But I can’t rush. Can’t make a mistake. One wrong move. And I’m dead. I lie back on the bed. Stare at the ceiling.
Tomorrow, I’ll find the opening. I have to. Enzo is watching now. Every move. Every mistake. The margin for error is gone. One wrong step and the operation collapses. Kade finally understands what’s at stake.
If I fail, the operation fails.
And that can’t happen.