In the heart of London – Surveillance at a glance…

They were granted provisional clearance to operate inside MI5’s internal affairs unit—an elite, secretive cell known as Section K. Its mandate: root out internal threats before they metastasized.

Inside Section K’s subterranean office, the walls were lined with soundproofing foam and analog clocks—no digital devices allowed. A single phrase was etched above the door in Latin:

Fiat Lux Ex Tenebris — Let there be light from the darkness.

Tess leaned over the table, scanning Vance’s activity logs. “He’s been clean on paper. No flagged communications, no unexplained absences. But look at this—”

She pointed to a pattern of late-night access to a dormant server cluster in the Thameside data vaults. “He’s been ghosting through a backdoor no one’s used since the Cold War.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “That’s where we stored the Black Echo files. Experimental AI surveillance protocols. If he’s selling that…”

Emma finished the thought. “Then he’s not just a mole. He’s a kingmaker.”

They needed proof. And fast.

Tess pulled out a burner phone and slid it across the table. “I’ve still got a contact in Vance’s old network. She thinks he’s meeting someone tonight—off-grid, no surveillance. A place called The Lantern.”

Jake blinked. “That’s a dead drop bar. No cameras, no comms. Only people who go there are ghosts.”

Emma stood. “Then we become ghosts.”

Later that night – The Lantern, Southbank

The bar was dim, lit only by flickering oil lamps and the occasional neon beer sign. Jazz played softly from a record player that skipped every few bars. Emma and Jake sat at opposite ends of the room, Tess at the bar, all wired with short-range mics.

At 22:17, Marcus Vance walked in.

He looked older than Jake remembered—sharper around the eyes, like a man who’d stopped sleeping years ago. He sat in a booth and placed a small black case on the table.

A second figure joined him. Hooded. Female. Unidentified.

Jake’s voice crackled in Emma’s earpiece. “That’s not one of ours.”

Tess whispered, “She’s ex-GRU. Codename: Nyx. She vanished two years ago after a data breach in Brussels.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “We need to hear what they’re saying.”

But before they could move, Vance looked directly at the hidden mic Tess had planted earlier—taped beneath the table.

He smiled.

And crushed it with his fist.

Then he mouthed two words to the hidden camera Tess had rigged behind the bar mirror:

“Too late.”