When Love is a Question Mark
Chapter 206: Seas of Deception - Scene 11

Chapter 206: Seas of Deception - Scene 11

Victor’s mind raced as he began piecing together his next steps. He needed to disappear, to become a ghost. He had contacts in the underworld, people who owed him favors, people who thrived in the shadows. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he thought of the weapons cache he had hidden in an old safehouse just a few towns away.

His first priority was to reach the safehouse, regroup, and rebuild. The explosion might have destroyed his ship and his immediate plans, but Victor was nothing if not adaptable. He thrived in chaos, and now, he intended to turn it to his advantage.

As he moved deeper into the forest, the wind howled around him, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. Victor pulled the hood tighter over his face, his mind already crafting the intricate web of deceit and vengeance he would unleash.

---

Hours later, under the cover of darkness, Victor reached an abandoned cabin hidden deep in the woods. The place had once served as a meeting point for his most clandestine dealings. He pushed open the creaky door and was greeted by the stale scent of neglect. The room was bare save for a dusty wooden table and a rickety chair.

Victor knelt by the floorboards, pulling out a knife from his pocket. He pried open a loose board, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside was a steel lockbox. He punched in the code, his fingers steady despite his weariness. The lid clicked open, revealing stacks of cash, several passports, a loaded handgun, and a satellite phone.

Victor chuckled darkly, picking up the phone. He dialed a number from memory, and after a few rings, a gravelly voice answered.

"Who is this?"

"It’s me," Victor said, his tone icy. "I need a new identity, transport, and access to my offshore accounts. And I need it now."

There was a pause, then the voice replied, "Consider it done. Where should we meet?"

Victor smirked. "I’ll find you."

He ended the call and leaned back, the gun resting on the table beside him. His mind burned with one thought: revenge. He would rise from the ashes, stronger than ever, and he would make Agent Daniel regret the day he dared to cross him.

"This is far from over," Victor whispered into the empty cabin, his voice laced with malice. "You started this war, Agent Daniel. But I’ll be the one to end it."

As Victor began planning his next move in the dimly lit cabin, the night outside was eerily quiet, save for the rustle of leaves in the wind. He paced the room, his mind working tirelessly to piece together a plan of retaliation. The resources in the lockbox were a start, but he needed allies, and he needed them quickly.

Victor’s first step was to vanish completely. He couldn’t risk anyone discovering he had survived. His contacts in the underworld would provide him with the means to disappear and re-emerge stronger. But for now, he had to lay low.

---

Meanwhile, back at sea, Agent Daniel and his team were being airlifted to safety. Their lifeboat ordeal had left them drained and battered. As the helicopter neared the coastline, Daniel stared out the window, his thoughts consumed by the mission. The storm had taken more than just their strength—it had stripped away the certainty of their victory.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Victor’s body had never been found. The explosion should have been the end, but Daniel had learned never to trust loose ends.

---

Back on land, the team was taken to a secured government facility for debriefing. They were treated for dehydration and injuries before being summoned to a private room. The atmosphere was heavy with exhaustion and lingering tension.

Somar, the team’s handler, entered the room, his expression grim.

"You all did good work out there," he began, his voice steady. "The smuggling operation has been dismantled, and we’ve recovered vital evidence. But..." He paused, meeting Daniel’s gaze. "There’s still no confirmation of Victor’s death."

Daniel leaned forward, his jaw tightening. "What do you mean? The ship exploded. There’s no way he survived."

Somar sighed. "We thought the same. But there’s no body, no remains. We have to operate under the assumption that he’s alive until proven otherwise."

The team exchanged uneasy glances. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the news settling over them.

"If he’s alive," Alex said, her voice low, "he’ll come for us. For you, Daniel."

Daniel nodded, his expression hardening. "Then we need to be ready."

---

Victor, unaware of the heightened alert, continued his journey to his safehouse. By dawn, he had reached the outskirts of a small town. His appearance was disheveled, his face partially obscured by the hood, but he moved with purpose. He found a run-down motel and paid cash for a room, using one of his forged identities.

Inside the dingy room, Victor sat on the bed, turning the satellite phone in his hands. He had one contact in particular he needed to reach—a man known only as "The Broker." The Broker specialized in providing high-level fugitives with everything they needed to rebuild.

Victor dialed the number. The line clicked, and a calm, calculated voice answered.

"Speak."

"It’s Victor," he said, his tone sharp. "I need your help."

The Broker was silent for a moment before replying. "You’re supposed to be dead."

"And yet, here I am," Victor replied coldly. "I need new resources, weapons, and a team. Money isn’t an issue."

"Very well," The Broker said. "I’ll arrange a meeting. But it won’t be cheap."

"It never is," Victor muttered before ending the call.

---

Three days later, Victor met The Broker in a secluded warehouse on the edge of a city. The man was tall and imposing, his face partially obscured by the shadows. A group of heavily armed guards stood nearby, watching Victor closely.

The Broker gestured for Victor to sit at a table laden with files and equipment.

"If you want to rebuild," The Broker began, "you’ll need to act fast. Your enemies won’t wait. And if the authorities catch wind of you, it’s over."