Eric stepped into the room, his eyes filled with concern as he approached Monbilt, who was pacing nervously, her anxiety palpable.
"You know what happened?" Eric asked, his voice low and steady, trying to anchor her scattered emotions.
Monbilt stopped in her tracks, her eyes meeting his. "No, but she called me that night. What shocked me is that she had translucent vials filled with a liquid, not just any liquid, Eric. It's illegal!" Her voice trembled as she revealed the dangerous secret.
Eric watched her for a moment, then moved closer, gently taking her hands in his. "Monbilt, you need to calm down," he said softly, his touch grounding her in the present.
Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over despite her attempts to hold them back. She was strong, a pillar of resilience, but even she had her breaking points.
"Christoff is there now, gathering evidence where the fight happened," Eric continued, trying to provide some reassurance. "The corpses haven't arrived yet, so he'll collect some information. I trust him, he can do it."
Monbilt nodded, though her expression remained troubled. The weight of her emotions was almost too much to bear. Eric's words were meant to comfort, but they couldn't erase the fear gnawing at her heart.
"But... did your sister survive?" Eric asked, his voice barely above a whisper, afraid of the answer he might receive.
Her gaze dropped to the floor, her hands slipping from his grasp. "She didn't," she replied, her voice breaking.
Without hesitation, Eric pulled her into a tight embrace. Monbilt stiffened for a moment, then melted into his arms. She clung to him, the tears flowing freely now. The comfort it gave made her heart calm, like a wave that suddenly settled.
In that moment, she allowed herself to be vulnerable, to lean on someone else for support. Eric's presence was a lifeline, and she held on, letting the calm of his steady heartbeat to be filled with her own
After a few minutes, the awaited knock echoed through the room, sharp and demanding.
In the presence of his subordinates, vulnerability was a luxury he couldn't afford. With a curt nod, he signaled Eric to ready himself as well. The facade of unshakable strength was as crucial as the armor they wore.
"You may enter," Monbilt commanded
The door creaked open to reveal Christoff, his usually impassive face shadowed by a rare glimmer of urgency. He stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind him
"We need to move to the other room," she said, the whisper carrying the gravity of an order more powerful than a shout. "We can't risk being overheard."
Eric nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. The walls were adorned with the faded portraits of past commanders, their eyes seeming to watch every move.
At the end of the hallway was an unmarked door, one that seemed to blend seamlessly into the wall. 
Eric reached into his coat, extracting a key that looked as ancient as the building itself. The metal felt cold and worn in his hand. He inserted it into the lock, turning it with a practiced hand, and the door swung open to reveal a hidden meeting room. Others are already there
The room was bare in appearance, furnished only with a large, wooden table and a few chairs. A map of the city was pinned to the wall, red pins marking locations of interest. A single window, covered by thick curtains.
As they settled into their seats, the atmosphere grew even more tense. Monbilt sat at the head of the table, her sharp eyes flicking over the faces of her most trusted agents. Each one bore the same look of grim determination, understanding that their mission was growing more dangerous by the hour.
"We're running out of time," Monbilt began, her voice steady but urgent. "Mr. Jaxon is starting to move. Christoff, what did you find?"
Christoff took a deep breath before speaking, his voice low and measured. "I followed the leads and uncovered a network far more extensive than we anticipated. They're not just after us, they're after anyone who gets in their way."
The agents exchanged uneasy glances, the implications of Christoff's words sinking in.
One of there members spoke, "Then we have no choice. We must act now, with precision and decisiveness. Our next steps will determine not just our fate, but the fate of everyone depending on us." 
The room fell silent, each agent absorbing the gravity of their situation. The stakes had never been higher, and the path ahead was with danger.
Christoff, is a wiry man with sharp features and an analytical mind, sat near the end of the table, his laptop open and glowing softly. He typed with a speed and precision that seemed almost inhuman, the rapid click-clack of the keys the only sound in the otherwise silent room. His fingers danced across the keyboard, a symphony of data and analysis unfolding beneath his touch. Even though he's just a beginner in the team.
Finally, he looked up, his eyes locking onto Monbilt's. "Commander, the data analysis is ready," he said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency that drew immediate attention.
Monbilt, a figure of authority and composure, nodded, a silent command for Christoff to proceed. The room fell silent as Christoff handed a sleek tablet to Monbilt. The screen displayed a complex array of numbers and codes, the kind only someone with Christoff's expertise could understand.
As Monbilt began to scroll through the data, Christoff continued, "There's a sequence embedded in the data. At first glance, it looks like standard encryption, but when you isolate the prime numbers and cross-reference them with our internal database, a pattern emerges."
Monbilt's brow furrowed as he focus deeper into the analysis. His finger paused over a particular sequence of numbers. "This code… it has a deeper meaning, doesn't it?"
Christoff nodded. "Yes, Commander. The sequence translates to a date and a location, one that corresponds to the day your sister was killed."
Christoff took a deep breath, knowing the weight of his next words. "Commander, the code also contains a name. Mr. Jaxon."
The room erupted into a murmur of shock and disbelief. Mr. Jaxon was a name known to all
Monbilt's face was a mask of controlled fury. She clenched her fists, struggling to maintain her composure. "Are you certain?" he demanded, her voice a low growl.
Christoff met his gaze, unwavering. "Yes, Commander. The evidence is irrefutable."
Monbilt closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. When he opened them, they were filled with a steely determination. The pieces were finally falling into place. He turned back to Christoff.
“Christoff, explain this code in detail. How exactly does it point to revenge?”
Christoff nodded and stood up, connecting his laptop to the room's main display. As the screen flickered to life, he began to walk through the analysis, his voice steady and clear.
“This sequence,” he pointed to the highlighted section of numbers, “when decoded, translates to a date, the date of Cassie's death. Embedded within it is another layer of encryption that, when cross-referenced with known methods used by Mr. Jaxon, spells out ‘REVENGE’.
The agents exchanged uneasy glances. The implications were clear: Mr. Jaxon had planned Cassie's death as an act of revenge.
Monbilt’s eyes narrowed. “So, Cassie's death was his message to us. A reminder of the cost of crossing him.”
Darius nodded, “And a warning to anyone else who might consider it.”
Darius, a grizzled veteran known for his seemingly lazy demeanor but never missing a single detail about missions, nodded. “And a warning to anyone else who might consider it.”
Darius had a reputation that preceded him, one that seemed at odds with his appearance. To a casual observer, he appeared disinterested, even apathetic. But those who had worked with him knew better. Behind the relaxed facade was a mind that never missed a beat. Darius had an uncanny ability to absorb information with effortless ease, his sharp mind always at work.
The room fell silent as the gravity of their situation settled over them. This wasn’t just about justice for Cassie anymore, it was about taking down a man who wielded terror as a weapon.
Monbilt finally broke the silence. “This changes everything. We need a better plan, and we need it fast. We can’t let Jaxon slip through our fingers again.”