Dom moved to another computer. Started cross-referencing. “Got his calendar. Pulling up meeting records.”
The data populated. Marcel's official schedule laid bare. Meeting after meeting with foreign contractors. Arms dealers. Known mercenaries. All logged in his calendar. Hidden in plain sight among legitimate business.
“Every payment preceded by a meeting,” Dom said. “Forty-eight hours before each attack, Marcel met with someone from the operations cell. Discussed terms. Arranged logistics. Then authorized payment.”
“Christ,” Dmitri breathed. “He didn't even hide it.”
“Why would he?” Ash asked. “King's most trusted advisor. Access to everything. Who would dare question him?”
Troy leaned forward, studying photos Noah had pulled up. Contractors Marcel had met with. Known operatives. Ghost Zeroassociates. “That one. Third from the left. Yuri Volkov. Former Spetsnaz. Went private five years ago. Specializes in high-value target elimination.”
“How much did he pay?” Adrian asked.
Noah pulled up the transaction. “Two million pounds. Three installments over six months.”
The room went quiet. That was execution money. Not harassment. Not warning shots. Full assassination budget.
“He wasn't trying to scare you,” I said quietly. Couldn't keep the rage out of my voice. “Every attack. Every ambush. All of it was meant to succeed. He was trying to kill you.”
Sebastian's laugh was broken glass and raw wounds. “My father's best friend. The man who's had dinner at our table every week for twenty years. Who held me when I cried after she died. Who promised he'd help protect me.” His voice cracked. “He's been trying to murder me for eighteen months.”
The scope of the betrayal was staggering. Not just treachery. Not just corruption. Something deeper. More personal. More devastating.
“Is there anyone else?” I asked Noah. “Other accomplices inside the palace?”
Noah pulled up access logs. “There's one other pattern. Someone with high-level access to Sebastian's schedule. Different from Marcel's. More careful. More surgical.”
He brought up data points. Red markers indicating suspicious activity.
“This person only accesses specific entries. State dinners. Public appearances. Times when security is stretched thin. They're not mining everything like Marcel. They're precise. Taking only what they need.”
“Can you trace it?” Adrian asked.
“I've been trying for two weeks.” Noah's frustration was obvious. “The account is routed through palace administration. Legitimate credentials. But the access pattern is wrong. Too precise for clerical work. And they're good. Really good. They know how to move through systems without leaving obvious traces.”
“Staff?” Troy suggested.
“Most likely. Someone with technical knowledge. Someone who understands how to hide.” Noah pulled up filtered data. “I've narrowed it to eight possibilities based on access patterns and timestamps. All palace staff. All with years of service.”
The list appeared on screen. Eight names. Eight people Sebastian probably knew. Probably trusted.
“I can't narrow it further without more data,” Noah admitted. “But it's someone in this list. Someone who's been helping Marcel coordinate from inside palace walls.”
“So Marcel has one accomplice,” Adrian summarized. “Someone technically sophisticated. Someone who's been loyal long enough to be invisible.”
“At minimum, one,” Noah corrected. “Could be more involved in other ways. Physical execution. Route changes. Maintenance. But only one person shows this specific pattern of schedule access.”
“We need to find them,” Sebastian said. Voice hard. Empty. “Find them and end this.”
“We will,” Noah assured him. “I've got algorithms running continuously now. Every time they access the system, I'm collecting more data. Building a tighter profile. It's only a matter of time.”
“Meanwhile, they're still out there,” I said. “Still working. Still coordinating with Marcel.”
“Which is why we move fast,” Adrian said. “We take Marcel first. Hard. Publicly. Make it clear we have evidence. That forces his accomplice to either expose themselves trying to help him or go to ground and wait.”
“And if they go to ground?” Sebastian asked.
“Then we hunt them in the quiet,” Luka said. Grin sharp. Dangerous. “We're very good at hunting.”
