The Ghost and the Vixen

Setting the Trap

The luxury office on the top floor of Volkov’s mansion was lavish, filled with ornate furniture and priceless art, all bathed in the dim glow of golden light. Volkov, seated behind a massive mahogany desk, was a man accustomed to control. His sharp eyes gleamed as he reviewed the reports coming in from his network of spies. Kade and Elara had both made their moves, each slipping into his compound with deadly precision, but they hadn't gone after him.

Not yet.

Volkov’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. He had hired the two deadliest assassins in the world—The Ghost and The Vixen —and now they were both poised to strike. But instead of fearing their talents, Volkov planned to exploit them. They would serve as weapons against each other.

With a wave of his hand, Volkov summoned his most trusted lieutenant, Mikhail, who entered the room swiftly, head bowed in respect.

“Mikhail,” Volkov began, his voice low and smooth, “everything is in place. Have our contacts feed each of them the location. Make sure they believe it’s where I’ll be. We’ll give them just enough intel to get them both there at the same time.”

Mikhail nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. “And when they meet?”

Volkov chuckled darkly. “They’ll kill each other. It’s what they’re best at, after all. Two predators with a single target—me. Only, they won’t realize they’re the real targets. Whoever survives can deal with the cleanup for me.”

Mikhail allowed himself a thin smile, knowing full well the brilliance of the plan. By the time the assassins figured out what had happened, one of them would be dead, and the other wouldn’t have enough time or energy to hunt Volkov afterward. It was a flawless trap.

Volkov leaned back in his chair, the weight of his satisfaction settling over him. “Let them come,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “The Ghost and The Vixen will soon find out they’re not as untouchable as they think.”

—

The first to receive the intel was Kade.

It came through his encrypted network, a message delivered from one of his trusted informants. The words were brief and to the point—Volkov would be meeting with an associate in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city, a location that was scarcely used and perfect for a discreet operation.

Kade’s eyes narrowed as he read the message, his mind already forming the plan. An abandoned factory meant minimal security, fewer cameras, and wide-open spaces—exactly the kind of environment he could exploit. The timing of the meet was set for midnight, just a few hours away.

This wasn’t his first mission where the location seemed too convenient, but something in his gut told him this was legitimate. Volkov was a slippery man, always moving, always paranoid. A low-profile meeting with an associate made sense, and Kade was always prepared to adjust to his target’s unpredictability.

He didn’t question it further. He trusted his informants, and if this was the moment to strike, he would be ready. Kade gathered his gear, securing his weapons with silent precision. His mind was already running through the layout of the factory, the angles of attack, the exits. Volkov would not escape this time.

—

On the other side of the city, Elara received her own message.

She had been resting in her safe house when the alert came through. Her encrypted phone blinked with a new communication from Gregor, one of her primary sources for intel. Her contact was rarely wrong, and the information was promising—Volkov would be attending a secretive meeting tonight at an abandoned factory near the industrial sector.

Elara leaned forward, reading the details carefully. A factory. Not the most elegant location, but for a man like Volkov, it made sense. He’d want to avoid public places, minimize the number of witnesses, and keep his movements hidden from prying eyes.

She allowed herself a small smile as she thought of how simple this job might be. An industrial site would have its weak points—crumbling infrastructure, blind spots in security. And at this hour of the night, she’d have the darkness as her ally. Everything was lining up perfectly.

But as Elara finished reading the message, a flicker of doubt ran through her. Something about the intel felt too clean, too convenient. It was almost as if Volkov wanted to be found. Her instincts told her to be cautious, but her professional pride pushed her forward. This was what she did best—get in, eliminate the target, and disappear without a trace.

The job had never failed her before.

She began preparing, checking her weapons, adjusting her sleek tactical suit. She wasn’t the type to ignore a lead, especially one that could bring her closer to finishing the mission. But something nagged at her. It was the man from the mansion—the Ghost. Was he involved somehow? No, she couldn’t be certain. He had been there for the same reason she had, after all.

Shaking the thought from her mind, she finalized her preparations. Time to hunt.

—

The night air was thick with humidity as Kade arrived at the factory first. The place was a sprawling, rusted ruin—decades of neglect had left the building’s metal framework exposed to the elements, and the large windows were either broken or covered in grime. It was exactly the kind of place that could serve as a temporary hideout for someone like Volkov. Remote. Forgotten.

He scanned the area, his sharp eyes catching every detail as he moved through the shadows, silent as ever. The Ghost. His nickname wasn’t just a title—it was a fact. There was no sound, no trace of his presence as he advanced deeper into the factory. He made sure to check for traps, for any sign that this was a setup, but everything seemed clear. Too clear.

Just as he was about to move closer to the center of the building, something caught his attention—a flicker of movement at the far end of the factory floor. Kade dropped into a crouch, blending with the shadows, his gaze locking onto the source.

A figure. Feminine. Graceful.

Kade’s eyes narrowed as realization hit him. Her.

—

Elara had entered the factory through the rear, her movements just as quiet and calculated as before. Her eyes scanned the open space, taking in the high ceilings, the decaying walls, and the massive metal structures that cast long, distorted shadows in the moonlight. It was a perfect place for an ambush or an escape.

But something didn’t feel right. There were no guards. No sign of Volkov.

As she moved closer to the center of the building, her instincts flared. She wasn’t alone. Slowly, she reached for her knife, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. Her breath steady, she scanned the darkness for any signs of movement. And then she saw him.

The Ghost.

Kade.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she didn’t flinch. So, he was here too. That could only mean one thing—they had both been led here, both drawn to the same location by the same target. And now, it was clear. Volkov wasn’t here.

He had set them up.

For a moment, the two assassins stood still, eyes locked across the distance, both realizing the game had changed.