Chapter 9: Night Work

*Kuala Lumpur - May 1987

The night air clung to Caspian's skin like oil as he observed the target location from a rooftop across the street. The Emperor Eye dissected every detail of the supposedly abandoned warehouse: guard patterns, structural weaknesses, the slight electromagnetic signature of surveillance equipment.

"Overwatch in position." Walter's voice through the encrypted comm was barely a whisper. "Three heat signatures on the east entrance. Two more mobile on the perimeter."

Caspian's response was equally quiet. "Confirmed. Primary target still in the office?"

"Affirmative. Meeting with an unknown contact. Matches the Bangkok intel."

Rain started to fall, a steady drone that would mask movement. Perfect. Caspian checked his equipment one final time—custom weapons from Q Division, perfectly balanced throwing knives, the specialized toxins designed for enhanced interrogation.

The warehouse housed more than just the weapons smuggling operation outlined in his mother's briefing. The Emperor Eye had caught the telltale signs in Bangkok: radiation signatures that didn't match any known weapons, financial patterns that suggested something far more sophisticated than arms dealing.

A guard passed below, umbrella in one hand, cigarette in the other. Sloppy. The Emperor Eye tracked the man's movement pattern, calculating the optimal moment to—

The guard's head snapped up suddenly, some sixth sense warning him. Too late. Caspian was already moving, a liquid shadow in the rain. The umbrella clattered to the ground. The guard never made a sound.

"East entrance clear," Caspian subvocalized. "Moving to point B."

The lock mechanism took twelve seconds to bypass. The security system another eight. Inside, the warehouse smelled of metal and chemicals. The Emperor Eye pierced the darkness, mapping paths through the maze of shipping containers.

Movement ahead. Two guards, professional stance suggesting military training. Their weapons were wrong for simple mercenaries—custom modifications, advanced targeting systems.

"We're burned," the first guard said in Russian. "Signal's been compromised."

"How many—" The second guard never finished his question. Caspian's blade opened his throat in a precise arc. The first guard managed half a turn before a thrust to the base of the skull severed his spine.

No alerts. No cameras triggered. Clean.

The office occupied the warehouse's second floor. Through the wall, the Emperor Eye tracked two heat signatures: the primary target and his guest. Their conversation filtered through the thin metal:

"The package is secure?"

"As promised. Though the price has increased."

"That wasn't the arrangement."

"Arrangements change."

Caspian placed shaped charges at precise structural points. The office's occupants continued their negotiation, unaware of the death slowly surrounding them.

"Control," Caspian whispered. "Confirm package status."

"Package verified," Walter replied. "You are cleared hot."

The first charge blew out the office's rear exit. The second collapsed part of the ceiling. By the time the dust settled, Caspian was already inside, Emperor Eye tracking both targets through the chaos.

"Please," the contact started to raise his hands. "We can—"

Two shots. Precise. The contact dropped. The primary target reached for a hidden weapon, but Caspian was already there, blade pressed against the man's carotid.

"The enhancement formula," Caspian said softly. "Where?"

"I don't—" The blade drew blood.

"Location. Now."

The target's eyes darted to a hidden panel in the floor. Smart. Radiation shielding would have hidden it from most scans. But the Emperor Eye had seen the subtle reinforcement in the structure.

"Control, package located. Proceeding with cleanup."

The target's eyes widened. "Wait—"

"A Valemont always pays his debts," Caspian said quietly. The blade moved once, precisely. "Unfortunately for you."

The hidden panel contained exactly what Bangkok had suggested: experimental formulas, genetic research, documents pointing to something much larger in motion. All of it photographed, documented, secured.

Twenty minutes later, Caspian emerged from the warehouse. No alerts had been triggered. No evidence remained. Just another quiet night in Kuala Lumpur, the rain washing away what little blood had spilled.

"Extraction route clear," Walter confirmed. "Director Valemont expects preliminary report in thirty."

Caspian moved through the shadows, his Emperor Eye already cataloging the next phase of intelligence gathered. Tomorrow there would be more targets, more information to extract, more pieces of a puzzle that grew more complex with each operation.

For now, there was only the rain, the night, and the quiet satisfaction of a mission executed to perfection.