Chapter 64: Hidden Team
Silas drove through traffic like a shadow, the city lights fading rapidly behind him as the sedan sped toward the outskirts. His hands gripped the steering wheel in fury, knuckles pale against the black leather.
The road grew narrower, flanked by dense trees and high security fences disguised as ordinary farmland barriers. After twenty minutes of winding private roads, the car slowed to a stop in front of a heavily guarded gate that looked like any ordinary rural entrance — but wasn’t.
Two armed men in black tactical gear stepped forward immediately. They recognized the vehicle and opened the reinforced gate without a single question or delay.
Silas didn’t speak. The car continued down a long, hidden driveway until it reached the large, modern underground complex. Tall concrete buildings, surveillance towers, and disguised hangars spread across the secured compound.
This was one of Silas’s most private facilities — a place where his most sensitive operations were monitored, away from prying eyes and official records. He stepped out of the car, his face a mask of cold, barely contained fury.
The head of security, a tall, muscular man named Reyes, was already waiting at the main entrance with a team of ten operatives standing in perfect formation behind him.
"Mr. Vane," Reyes said, bowing his head slightly in respect. "We weren’t expecting you tonight, sir. Is everything alright?"
Silas ignored the greeting entirely and walked straight past him into the main monitoring hall. The large room was filled with glowing screens, multiple operators at their stations, and rows of armed men who immediately stood at attention the moment he entered. The air grew thick with tension.
Silas stopped in the center of the hall, his presence alone making the temperature feel like it had dropped ten degrees.
"Everyone line up," he ordered, his voice restraining his anger.
The men moved quickly and efficiently, forming two perfect lines facing him. Reyes stood at the front, looking visibly tense, sweat already beading on his forehead.
Silas’s eyes swept over them like a blade ready to cut. "Explain to me in detail why the person I placed under your direct, personal surveillance was able to sneak out of the penthouse, travel across the city to his old family house, and remain there for hours... without me receiving a single alert. Why did I have to find out from a secondary team? Someone start talking at this moment and don’t waste my time with excuses."
The room fell into dead silence for several long, suffocating seconds. No one dared to breathe too loudly.
Then Reyes stepped forward, bowing his head deeply in shame. "Mr. Vane... we failed you, sir. The night shift team on duty did not report the movement immediately. They assumed it was a minor deviation — emotional distress after everything that’s happened with his brother. They tried to handle it internally to avoid disturbing you. By the time we realized the severity of the situation, he was already deep inside the old house. We take full responsibility for this failure."
Silas’s voice remained low, but the anger simmering beneath it was like a volcano about to erupt. "You assumed? Since when do any of you assume anything when it comes to Sylvain? I gave explicit, crystal-clear orders — every single movement, phone activity, and breath he takes outside my direct control must be reported to me instantly. No exceptions. And yet you let him slip away like a ghost in the night. Do you understand how completely unacceptable and pissed off I am?"
One of the younger operatives in the back line, a man in his late twenties, dared to speak up, his voice shaking with fear. "Sir... we thought he was just grieving. He looked completely broken when he left your house. We didn’t want to disturb you with what seemed like a temporary emotional episode. It was a grave mistake on our part. We should have reported it the second he left the building."
Silas let out a cold, humorless laugh that sent chills down the spines of every man in the room. "Emotional episode? My property was wandering around an unsecured, abandoned location for hours while his brother was missing and some unknown forces were actively hunting him. And you decided it wasn’t important enough to inform me? Pathetic. All of you."
He turned sharply to Reyes. "Bring me the full logs from Sylvain’s phone tonight. I want to see exactly what he received and when."
Reyes nodded quickly, sweat dripping down his face. He gestured urgently to one of the operatives. A young man stepped forward immediately, holding out Sylvain’s phone — the same one Silas had taken from him earlier that night.
Silas snatched it from his hand, unlocked it with the master code he had installed long ago, and began scrolling through the messages with deadly focus. His expression remained ice-cold at first... until the photos loaded.
The first image hit him hard — Leon tied to a chair, face covered in fresh blood, eyes swollen almost shut. A video followed: Leon screaming in pain as someone struck him again and again.
Another message appeared below:
"COD 164 document. You have 3 days. Deliver it or your brother dies slowly. We will start with fingers."
Silas’s hand tightened around the phone until the screen nearly cracked. His eyes shook with barely contained rage. The entire room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. No one dared to move.
One of the operatives, voice trembling, dared to speak. "Sir... we saw those messages come in. We thought it was a bluff at first. We were trying to trace the sender when you arrived. We didn’t want to alarm you unnecessarily."
Silas looked up slowly, his gaze lethal enough to make the man take an involuntary step back. "You thought it was a bluff? You had one simple job — monitor and report everything. And you failed spectacularly. All of you."
He turned to Reyes, voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "Everyone here is suspended until I dish out your punishment. Double the surveillance teams on Sylvain from now on. If he so much as sneezes without me knowing about it, heads will roll. Literally. Do I make myself clear?"
Reyes bowed deeply, voice tight with shame. "Crystal clear, Mr. Vane. It will never happen again. We will triple the teams if necessary."
Silas stared at the phone one last time, Leon’s bloody, terrified face burned permanently into his memory.
"Find who sent these messages. I want them alive. Bring them to me breathing. I want to make them regret the day they ever thought they could touch what belongs to me."
He turned on his heel and walked out of the hall, Sylvain’s phone still clutched tightly in his hand, leaving the lined-up men standing in ashamed.
All he had to do was wait, until Santiago comes to find him and Leon would be free.
