HQ – Internal Intelligence Division, 3:42 PM
The skies outside were still overcast, casting long shadows across the glass windows of the Intelligence Headquarters. Inside, however, the weight wasn't from the weather—it was from the name they all couldn't ignore anymore: Zid.
Tara entered the restricted archives room after hours of quiet digging, bypassing layered security firewalls and masked clearance levels that even Rehaan warned her not to breach. But for Kiaan—she would do it again.
With a file clutched in her hand, her steps were fast and calculated as she reached Kiaan's cabin. She didn't knock. She simply walked in.
Kiaan was alone, reviewing an internal map on a screen, his face unreadable—calm on the surface, but his fingers betrayed him, nervously tapping the table.
Tara shut the door behind her, dropped the file in front of him.
"I found it. All of it."
Kiaan looked up, sharp and silent. Then slowly, he pulled the folder toward him and began reading.
---
ZID - Classified Internal Profile
Age: 24
Height: 163 cm
Weight: 72 kg
Family: Orphan
Education: Studied in England – Unknown private elite institution
Training: Completed advanced military intelligence and sniper training from classified England government programs
Previous Service:
– Operated as an embedded field spy under direct orders of English Intelligence Command
– Survived 18 undercover missions
– Ambushed 15 times and escaped every time
– Labeled: "Operative with Zero Fear"
Medical:
– No mental or physical medical conditions on record
– Pain tolerance recorded above human average
– Left with no visible scar despite mission records of extreme torture
Skills:
– Classified as Second Topper National Sniper in international registry
– Elite marksman, night-operation expert
– Flawless memory
– Deceptive persona traits: Expert at mimicking emotions, hiding intentions
– Weakness: None found
– Strength: Pure instinct in action
---
Kiaan read every line slowly. The deeper he went, the more the pit in his stomach widened. Tara watched his eyes narrow slightly—his fingers now stopped tapping.
"This isn't just a field officer," Kiaan said finally. "This is a ghost in the system."
Tara nodded. "A ghost sent straight into your house."
Kiaan leaned back in his chair, tossing the folder across the table. "And he's planted right into our team—under the excuse of orders from the higher-ups."
Tara's eyes didn't blink. "Rex put him there, didn't he?"
Kiaan didn't answer immediately. His mind was already spinning.
"I don't care how clean his file is," Tara continued. "No agent has no weaknesses. Not unless someone scrubbed the record."
Kiaan's voice was low, almost thoughtful now. "Or… not unless someone trained him to become one."
Their eyes locked.
Then Kiaan stood up.
"I want full surveillance on Zid. Where he goes, who he talks to, what time he sleeps. If he blinks sideways—I want to know. He may be a ghost, but he's in my house now."
Tara smirked, a flash of pride lighting her eyes. "Already installed trackers on his boots and locker card. He doesn't even know."
Kiaan gave a small nod, looking back at the file one last time. "Let's see how long this ghost can walk among the living."
But just as he turned to the screen again, a message notification popped up. Unidentified source.
No subject line. No trace. Only one sentence:
> "You're not the only one watching, Captain."
Kiaan's heart slowed.
His eyes darkened.
And across the city, in a smoke-filled chamber deep beneath Sunderland, Rex let out a cold, amused laugh as he stared at the same message on his encrypted screen.