The Heir’s Deception

CHAPTER 5 — ALLIES AND AMBUSHES

The warehouse smelled of damp steel and dust. Broken crates lined the walls, their contents long scavenged or ruined.

Adrian Vale stood at the center, watching as his recruits fidgeted nervously. He had handpicked them for skill, loyalty, and discretion, but he needed to know who would falter under pressure.

Voss leaned against a column, arms crossed. “Remember,” he said, voice low, “this isn’t a test of brains alone. It’s a test of trust. One mistake, and Damian’s men, or worse could be watching.”

Adrian nodded. “Let’s begin.”

First Assignment: infiltration simulation.

Each recruit would navigate a maze of crates, security cameras, and fake guards. Their mission: retrieve a briefcase containing fabricated “sensitive data” and return it to Adrian without triggering alarms.

“Ready?” Adrian asked, his voice calm but sharp.

They nodded. A young woman, Selene, stepped forward first. Confidence radiated from her every movement.

“You know the layout,” Adrian reminded them. “No shortcuts. No guesses. And watch each other, you’ll need to rely on the team without speaking.”

Selene crept forward. Cameras, simulated with motion sensors, blinked as she passed. Her hands shook slightly, but her eyes were sharp.

She snatched the briefcase and returned it to the center without triggering a single sensor. “Well done,” Adrian said. “Notice her technique. Control. Patience. That’s what we need.”

Voss grinned faintly. “Good. But don’t relax. The next one will test coordination.”

The team moved as a unit. Adrian watched every movement, every hesitation. He whispered advice in clipped tones, occasionally stepping in to subtly redirect a misstep.

But something niggled at the back of his mind, the internal messages he had found in the drive. Someone was already tracking his team, predicting his moves.

He kept it in check, his expression neutral. No one could know he was aware. Not yet.

First real trap for Damian’s men: The target was Lance Roan’s assistant, a man named Victor Hale. Adrian had fed a controlled tip: Roan’s assistant would attend a “secret meeting” at a safehouse, thinking he was securing a new offshore deal.

In reality, Adrian’s team would observe, gather intel, and leave behind subtle false trails, enough to misdirect Damian’s network.

Adrian briefed the team. “You know your roles. Observe, document, and avoid direct confrontation. Victor believes he’s meeting Roan’s contacts, let’s make him think that while we collect his data.”

The team moved out in two cars. Adrian sat in the lead vehicle with Voss, watching the rearview mirror.

“Are you sure he’ll bite?” Adrian asked.

Voss shrugged. “Roan’s men are predictable. Greed makes them sloppy.”

Adrian’s phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed on the screen: “He knows someone’s watching.”

Adrian frowned. Already? He masked the tension in his voice. “Ignore it. Stick to the plan.”

The safehouse loomed, dim lights glowing through grime-coated windows. Victor Hale emerged from a black SUV, phone pressed to his ear. He looked around, suspicious, but curiosity drove him forward.

Adrian’s team, hidden across the street, observed quietly. Cameras streamed to the laptop in the car. “Wait for the right moment,” Adrian whispered.

Victor entered the building. Adrian signaled the team. One recruit slipped inside quietly, planting small bugs and recording devices.

Another subtly rearranged a few papers, leaving misleading instructions for Roan’s network. Everything went smoothly, until Victor hesitated. He glanced at a vent, then the window. Adrian stiffened.

Something wasn’t right. The spy. Somewhere inside the safehouse, a hidden observer, someone Adrian hadn’t yet accounted for, was watching, anticipating every move.

The subtle sabotage began: minor adjustments to security cameras, extra phone signals, a delayed email alert, all designed to make Adrian doubt his own team.

Back at the surveillance van, Adrian noticed irregularities. “Voss… look at this.”

Voss leaned over. “What am I looking at?”

“Camera feed glitches,” Adrian said. “Someone’s been here. Not a technical error.”

Voss frowned. “Could be Victor. Could be someone else.”

“Someone else,” Adrian muttered. “Inside our circle.”

Inside the safehouse, Victor reached for one of the fake dossiers Adrian’s team had placed. Before he could open it, a shadow moved behind him.

A quiet click, a phone, or perhaps a trigger, made his head snap toward the corner. He froze. Adrian’s team outside misinterpreted it as a simple distraction.

They didn’t notice the small device recording the entire sequence, feeding live data to Damian’s spy. Adrian decided to escalate. “Time to see what happens when you press the right buttons,” he said.

He instructed Selene to send a subtle digital message, a lure meant for Victor’s phone. It contained a fabricated lead on a supposed offshore deal worth millions.

Victor’s eyes widened. He tapped the message, quickly verifying the numbers. His greed overrode caution, exactly as Adrian predicted. “Perfect,” Adrian whispered.

But another message arrived on Adrian’s phone: “He didn’t take the bait. Someone else is guiding him.”

Adrian’s chest tightened. The spy was active. Already. And the manipulation was precise. Voss noticed the shift. “This is bad. The moment we misstep, Cruz will know.”

Adrian clenched his jaw. “Then we adapt. Always.”

The operation ended with Victor leaving the safehouse, carrying only a few fake documents. Adrian’s team followed him at a distance, documenting movements, contacts, and patterns.

Back at the warehouse, Adrian reviewed the footage. Something felt off, tiny inconsistencies in the timing of the movements, subtle signs that someone had interfered without touching anything.

“I know someone’s feeding Cruz inside intel,” Adrian muttered. “And they’re good at it.”

Voss’s gaze hardened. “Then you need to prepare for double deception. Every ally, every move, every message, they could be working against you.”

Adrian rubbed his forehead. “So far, my first trap worked. And yet, I feel like I just walked into another one.”

That night, the team gathered in silence. Each member was competent, loyal, or so Adrian hoped. He addressed them briefly, keeping the words neutral. “Good work today. Rest up. Tomorrow we escalate.”

The recruits left one by one, leaving Adrian alone with the drive and his thoughts.

He opened the folder again, scanning for anomalies. A single line of code caught his eye, almost invisible: Monitor Adrian Vale closely. Report anomalies immediately.

Adrian froze. He traced the IP address, it wasn’t from Damian’s known network. It was closer. Much closer. The spy had infiltrated his team.

Voss appeared behind him. “I warned you,” he said quietly. “Trust no one.”

Adrian’s eyes narrowed, cold determination settling over him. “Then we reset the board. They want me to play blind, fine. I’ll play blind, but on my terms.”

A soft ping came from the laptop. Another message: “You’re walking into the web. Don’t trip.”

Adrian smirked, bitter and resolute. “I don’t trip. I pull the threads.”

Outside, the city hummed. The lights flickered against the rain-slick streets. Somewhere in the shadows, the spy smiled faintly, fingers poised over a phone.

The first ambush had been a success, partially. But the real game had only just begun.