The Informant’s Gambit

The air inside the safe house was stale, thick with the scent of dust and old wood.Jessica sat near the window, her fingers lightly gripping the blinds as she peered out at the Montmartre streets. No sign of their pursuers. Yet. Still, something gnawed at her nerves—the way the air felt too still, the way shadows clung to the corners like they were waiting for a signal. She’d survived too many traps to believe this was over.

Leanna dropped onto the worn-out couch, running a hand through her hair. "We need to figure out our next move. We can’t stay here forever."

Olivia, still catching her breath, leaned against the far wall, her laptop resting on her lap. "Jean-Luc sent the address of an informant—someone who knows what Vanguard is up to. But there’s a catch."

Jessica glanced at her. "There’s always a catch."

"He’s a defector," Olivia explained. "A former scientist who worked on one of their European projects. He’s paranoid, thinks Vanguard has eyes everywhere. He’ll only meet us in person, and only in a crowded place."

Leanna exhaled sharply. "That’s not ideal. Where?"

Olivia hesitated. "Gare du Nord. Train station."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Of course it’s a train station. Might as well paint a target on our backs."

Leanna cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the stillness. Her jaw was tight, the same way it had been back in Montmartre when they nearly got pinned down. "We’re going."

Jessica pushed away from the window. "We go in small groups. No big movements. Olivia, you’ll watch from the perimeter. Leanna and I will handle the meeting."

Olivia nodded, already unzipping her pack. She pulled out her compact rifle case and a small pouch of optics, fingers moving with practiced efficiency.

Jessica arched a brow, "You expecting trouble?"

Olivia didn’t look up. "I’m expecting precision."

“Remember,” Leanna said, “If this goes sideways, fallback point is Montmartre. Two-hour window, no hero moves.”

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Jessica had been in too many public places that ended with blood. She knew how this might go—she didn’t expect it to go so fast.

The station was bustling, filled with travelers rushing to make their trains. The scent of warm pastries mixed with the metallic tang of train tracks. Jessica adjusted her scarf, blending in with the morning crowd as she scanned the concourse.

Leanna walked slightly ahead, hands in her coat pockets, eyes darting from face to face. "There he is. Over by the ticket kiosks."

A man in his mid-fifties stood rigidly, his coat a little too large for his frame. He had the look of someone who hadn’t slept in days. As they approached, his eyes flicked between them nervously.

"You’re late," he muttered under his breath.

Jessica arched a brow. "Traffic."

He scoffed. "We don’t have time for jokes. Vanguard has new leadership. More aggressive. More... efficient."

Leanna’s expression hardened. "Names. Locations."

The man hesitated, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his coat. "Here. Coordinates. A facility. Not Vanguard’s main site, but one of their black labs."

Jessica took the paper, barely glancing at it before tucking it into her pocket. "Why help us?"

He exhaled shakily. "Because I helped create them."

Before Jessica could press further, a loud crack echoed through the station.

"Sniper!" Olivia’s voice rang in their earpieces.

The man jerked violently before crumpling to the floor, blood pooling beneath him. Leanna grabbed Jessica’s arm. "Move!"

Chaos erupted as travelers screamed and scattered. Jessica and Leanna sprinted toward the exits as another shot shattered a display board behind them.

Olivia’s voice came through, urgent but focused. "Third floor, northwest corner. I’ve got one clean window. One shot."

Jessica shoved past startled commuters, heart in her throat. For a second, she wasn’t sure Olivia would make it in time. Then a shot rang out—precise, controlled. The sniper collapsed over the railing, his rifle clattering to the floor below.

"Target down," Olivia confirmed, steady as ever. "Get out of there. Now."

Jessica and Leanna didn’t hesitate. They ducked into a side corridor, vanishing into the maze of underground tunnels leading away from the station. The informant was dead, but they had the coordinates. And now, Vanguard knew they were coming.