Page 35 of The Player

And Hope had no intention of losing.

CHAPTER 15

SETH

The tension was palpable as Seth and Hope crept through the narrow corridors of the Citadel, the silence around them broken only by the occasional soft footfall or the muffled hum of distant machinery. The Citadel was a maze, a labyrinth of shadowy hallways and locked doors that twisted and turned with no apparent logic. Every corner they turned, every door they passed, was another potential threat, another opportunity for the mission to go horribly wrong.

The layout of the Citadel had been drilled into their minds and finding schematics of the place had helped immensely. They knew every hallway, every exit, every room where an ambush might occur. But knowing the layout didn’t make the journey any less harrowing. They were deep in enemy territory, even though they were still in London, surrounded by trained killers who would not hesitate to put them down if discovered.

Hope’s fingers flew over her device, her brow furrowed in concentration as she rendered the Citadel’s security systems ineffective. Each keystroke was a lifeline, keeping the cameras dark and the alarms silent as they made their way deeper into the belly of the beast. Seth glanced over her shoulder, watching the green lines of code flash across the screen, a testament to her skill and precision.

"We're clear for now," Hope whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and he gave her a tight nod.

Seth moved past her to lead the way, his movements deliberate and controlled, his every sense heightened to a razor’s edge. He held his weapon close, the cold metal a comforting weight in his hand as they slipped deeper into the darkness. The dim emergency lights cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that seemed to press in from all sides.

The Citadel was far quieter than it had been the two times they had previously been inside. It was a place of constant activity, even in the early morning hours after the club had closed and before the sun’s early light began to creep over the eastern horizon. But at the moment, the silence was unsettling. It was as if the building itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Hope followed close behind Seth, her eyes scanning every corner, every darkened alcove where danger might be lurking. Seth could feel her presence, steady and sure, but he also knew how much she was counting on him to keep them safe. She was brilliant—there was no denying that—but her strength lay in her mind, in her ability to decipher and analyze, not in close-quarter combat. That responsibility was his. Oh, she could hold her own, but in this partnership, she was brains, and he was brawn.

They turned a corner and entered a long, narrow hallway that led to a set of heavy, reinforced doors—the entrance to the inner sanctum of the Obsidian Cartel. This was where the real power of the organization was concentrated, where Nero Valente ruled with an iron fist. Seth’s grip tightened on his weapon as he signaled for Hope to stay close.

Their rubber-soled shoes were nearly silent on the floor, but the air around them seemed to hum with a sinister energy. Seth’s heart pounded in his chest as they neared the doors, every nerve in his body on high alert. He knew they were close now—close to Valente, close to their objective.

But with every step forward, the danger increased exponentially.

As they approached the doors, Seth raised a hand, signaling for Hope to stop. He crouched low, listening intently for any signs of movement on the other side. The thick metal doors were designed to keep intruders out—or, in their case, to keep them in. The silence was unnerving, but he knew better than to trust it.

He pressed his ear to the door, straining to catch any sound, any indication that there were guards or worse waiting for them. The blood rushed in his ears, making it difficult to hear, but after a few tense moments, he detected a faint, rhythmic noise—breathing. Someone was standing just beyond the door.

Seth pulled back and glanced at Hope, who was watching him with wide, questioning eyes. He held up two fingers, indicating the presence of at least two guards. She nodded, her face pale but resolute.

He knew they had to act quickly. The longer they stayed in one place, the greater the risk of being discovered. He motioned for Hope to stand back as he reached into his belt for a small, cylindrical device—a flashbang. It was a gamble, but it might give them the edge they needed to take out the guards before they could sound the alarm.

With a final nod to Hope, Seth pressed a button on the flashbang, then pushed the door open just enough to toss it inside. He pulled back quickly, covering his ears as the device detonated with a blinding flash of light and a deafening bang that reverberated through the hallway.

Without waiting for the effects to wear off, Seth surged forward, bursting through the door with his weapon raised. The two guards inside were reeling, their senses overwhelmed by the flashbang. They were still disoriented when Seth fired, his shots precise and lethal. The guards crumpled to the ground, their bodies hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Seth’s breath came in short bursts as he scanned the room, ensuring there were no other threats. When he was satisfied the room was secure, he turned to Hope, who had followed him inside.

“Clear,” he whispered, lowering his weapon.

Hope stepped over the fallen guards; her face grim as she moved to the control panel on the wall. Her fingers danced over the buttons, disabling the last layer of security that separated them from Valente.

“We’re in,” she said softly, her voice laced with tension.

Seth nodded; the weight of what they were about to do settling over him like a heavy shroud. This was it—the culmination of everything they’d been working for. With Valente in their possession, they could bring the Obsidian Cartel to its knees, stop the terrorist attacks and dismantle the cartel’s intelligence network and nest of traitors, including the one at Cerberus. It was an enormous risk, but the potential results justified it.

They moved as one, slipping through the final set of doors and into the heart of the Obsidian Cartel. The room beyond was opulent, making the private area for players pale in comparison and a stark contrast to the cold, industrial feel of the rest of the building. Thick carpets covered the floors, and expensive art adorned the walls. The air was thick with the scent of leather, fine whiskey, and expensive cologne.

In the center of the room was a massive four-poster bed, draped in luxurious silk sheets. And on that bed lay Nero Valente, the man who had orchestrated countless atrocities in the name of power and profit. He was asleep, his breathing deep and even, oblivious to the danger creeping ever closer.

But it wasn’t just Valente in the room.

Hope gasped softly, her eyes locking on the woman bound to the headboard beside him. She was bruised, her wrists raw from the restraints, her face a mask of fear and pain. Her eyes widened when she saw them, and for a moment, she looked like she might scream.

Seth moved quickly, raising a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence and administering a powerful sedative to Valente. The woman’s breathing hitched, but she obeyed, her gaze flicking from Seth to Hope, desperate for help.

Seth’s mind raced as he tried to assess the situation. Their op had a clear mandate: capture Nero Valente and extract the information they needed to stop the Cobra’s plan. But the presence of the woman complicated everything. She was a prisoner, likely a victim of Valente’s cruelty, but rescuing her was not part of the op.

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