Undercover Frequency

Prague looked like a city built from secrets.

The old skyline rose in dark silhouettes against a bruised violet sky, cathedral spires cutting into the moonlight. Below, the Vltava River shimmered like black glass, reflecting the glow of street lamps and the massive concert venue perched along the waterfront.

By midnight, the city was electric.

The crowd outside the arena stretched for blocks, voices rising in a fevered chant as Elise and Philip’s faces flashed across giant LED screens.

Inside, the stage lights burned white.

But backstage, Elise could feel it.

The shift.

Someone was watching.

Her gaze moved over the crew… lighting techs, sound engineers, wardrobe assistants, stage managers. Faces that had traveled with them from Los Angeles to Paris, Berlin, Vienna.

People she had laughed with.

Trusted.

People who knew every schedule change, every secret access point, every last-minute route.

Philip stepped beside her, voice low.

“Any sign?”

Elise shook her head.

“That’s the problem.”

Then she saw it.

A crew badge lying on the floor near the loading tunnel.

One she recognized.

Mara Quinn: Tour Production Coordinator

Elise’s stomach dropped.

Mara.

Always calm. Always near the schedule boards. Always the one quietly moving people where they needed to be.

Always close.

Too close.

“Elise.”

Philip’s voice sharpened.

The backstage monitors flickered.

A new feed appeared.

Rooftop camera.

A woman in black sprinting across the upper catwalk.

Mara.

“She’s running.”

Elise didn’t hesitate.

“Go.”

They exploded into motion.

Up metal stairs.

Through the rigging tower.

Out onto the rooftop.

Cold air slammed into them.

Prague spread below in glittering gold, the river carving through the city like a vein of moonlight.

Ahead, Mara ran across the rooftop scaffolding, the wind whipping her dark coat behind her.

“Stop!” Elise shouted.

Mara glanced back.

Smiled.

Then jumped.

She landed on the neighboring rooftop with terrifying precision.

Philip cursed.

“She trained.”

Agency.

The realization hit hard.

This wasn’t just a mole.

This was one of their own.

They gave chase across the rooftops, leaping narrow alleys and skidding across rain-slick slate tiles.

Below them, thousands of fans still screamed inside the arena, unaware that above their heads, a war was unfolding.

Mara reached the clocktower rooftop and turned.

Gun raised.

“Elise, don’t!”

Too late.

A shot cracked through the night.

Philip tackled Elise to the stone just as the bullet shattered the tower face behind them.

Clock glass rained down like ice.

Mara’s expression flickered.

Regret.

Then steel.

“You should’ve stayed singers,” she said.

Elise rose slowly, fury burning in her eyes.

“Why?”

Mara laughed once… sharp, bitter.

“Because Moreau lied to all of us.”

Philip stepped forward.

“Rowan said Moreau wasn’t the mole.”

“He isn’t,” Mara said.

Silence.

The wind howled around the tower.

Mara lowered the gun just enough.

“The leak goes above him.”

Elise’s pulse pounded.

“Who?”

Mara looked at her, something almost sad in her expression.

“The Council.”

The name hit like a blade.

The Council.

The shadow oversight board above the agency.

Untouchable.

Invisible.

Power without faces.

Before Elise could respond, red laser dots appeared across Mara’s chest.

Snipers.

Three.

No…

Four.

Not aimed at them.

At Mara.

Her eyes widened.

“They found me.”

A shot rang out.

Philip lunged.

Elise screamed.

But Mara was faster.

She threw a silver drive across the rooftop.

Straight into Elise’s hands.

“Run.”

The next shot hit.

Mara staggered backward.

Then fell from the clocktower edge into darkness.

Silence.

For one horrible second, the city itself seemed to stop breathing.

Then Philip grabbed Elise’s wrist.

“Move!”

More shots cracked around them.

They ran.

Across the rooftops.

Down a fire escape.

Into the black streets of Prague.

Only when they reached the riverbank tunnel did they stop.

Elise looked down at the silver drive in her hand.

Philip’s face was grim.

“What did she give you?”

Elise turned it over.

Etched into the metal were two words.

ROME FILES

She looked up slowly.

“This ends in Rome.”

Thunder rolled over the city.

And somewhere far above, someone in the shadows was already preparing for their arrival.