Chapter 3 - The Portland Trail
They landed in Portland under a blanket of fog. The city was quiet, a stark contrast to the neon chaos of Houston. Following the contact details Madeline had left in the escrow file, they tracked her alias—Elena Vance—to a small, nondescript house on the outskirts of the city.
The house was empty.
Sebastian walked through the rooms. He saw a small chair, a drawing of a rocket ship pinned to the refrigerator, and the lingering scent of lavender and old paper—the smell of Madeline.
“They were here,” Sebastian whispered, kneeling to inspect a scuff mark on the floorboard. It was recent.
“Sebastian,” Vincent called out from the living room. “Look at this.”
He pointed to a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards. Inside was a ledger—a list of names, bank accounts, and dates going back six years. These were the puppet masters of the Syndicate. And tucked behind the ledger was a digital recording device.
Sebastian pressed play.
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“If you’re listening, Sebastian,” Madeline’s voice sounded, crackling with age and wear, “they have a base of operations at the old naval shipyard. Leo is there. They think he’s just a child, but they want to use him to break you. Don't go in with an army. They have ears everywhere. Go in as the man they fear, not the man they can predict.”
“They want a war?” Sebastian looked at Vincent. “They have no idea what I’m capable of when there’s nothing left to lose.”
