Rain sheeted down as the Gulfstream banked over the dark Baltic. Below, the city of Kaliningrad sprawled in grey blocks and fractured fortresses; a place built on bones. Theo Blackwood stood in the aisle, expression unreadable as the jet descended.
Lara watched him from her seat, chin propped on her hand. "You look like you're coming home."
He didn't look back. "Just coming full circle."
The tyres screeched on the slick runway. Marcus was waiting at the hatch, heavy coat zipped to the throat, rifle case in one hand. "Vehicles secure. No customs issues — your paperwork's gold."
Sophie followed, shoulders hunched against the wind, clutching her laptop like a shield. "Satellite passes show construction lights around the Nordbahnhof ruins. Someone's digging — big."
Theo's jaw tightened slightly but he said nothing. When he stepped out onto the icy tarmac he looked, for a moment, every inch the Ghost Duke: tall coat, black gloves, presence quiet but commanding.
Safehouse — Prussian Villa
Their base was an abandoned hilltop villa that Marcus's friends had swept and reinforced. Warm generators hummed; maps and weapons crates turned the faded ballroom into a war room.
Sophie dropped her soaked coat, already booting laptops. "The Liber Mens Sacra is more map than gospel. Nazi occult division rerouted rails to hide 'Sacred Mind' cargo. Last confirmed stop: under Nordbahnhof."
Marcus stabbed a finger at the map. "Locals say gangs control the surface, but these floodlights and heavy trucks here?" — he zoomed the sat image — "That's Veil. At least twenty."
Lara studied the ghostly rail diagram projected on the cracked wall. "And the Nazis sealed it?"
"And the Soviets mined it," Sophie said. "Old PMN charges and concrete plugs. Not fun."
Theo finally spoke: "We scout tonight. No fighting unless forced. Marcus, overwatch. Sophie on comms and minefield mapping. Lara with me."
Lara smirked. "Date night?"
"Reconnaissance," Theo said, but a flicker of amusement touched his mouth.
Ghosts Past
Hours later, while Marcus checked suppressors, Theo stood alone at a rain-smeared window. Kaliningrad pulled old memories from dark corners: MI6 Operation Ashfield, his first deniable hunt. The man who'd briefed him — Henry Vale — had taught him how to vanish and kill quietly. Your mind's a weapon, Blackwood. But don't think you're untouchable.
He had walked away three years later, sick of politics. But the streets still knew him.
Lara's reflection joined his in the glass. "You've been here before."
"Yes."
"Good. Maybe the ghosts will work for us."
He almost smiled.
Nordbahnhof Night
Freezing rain slicked the cobbles black as Marcus eased their SUV into a dark alley. The ruined Nordbahnhof rail yard loomed ahead: skeletal sheds, rusted tracks swallowed by weeds, the hollow teeth of bombed-out warehouses. Floodlights burned at its heart where heavy equipment growled.
Marcus lowered the binoculars. "Surface gangs: a dozen, maybe more. Armed with AKs, guarding the outer blocks. But deeper in…" he passed the glasses back.
Theo studied the inner yard through night-vision: floodlit scaffolds, tarps flapping, trucks loaded with radar gear. Men in matte black moved with soldierly precision, raven sigils stencilled on their sleeves. "Veil," he said quietly.
"Twenty, maybe thirty inside," Marcus guessed. "No uniforms, but posture's military."
Sophie's voice crackled in their earpieces from the villa: "Drone thermal confirms. Also seeing bright clusters along the north fence — Soviet mines still active. Old, but if you step wrong, kaboom."
Theo nodded once. "Guide us."
"Copy. Sending safe lanes to your HUD now."
Lara zipped her hood, eyes gleaming with adrenaline. "Nice night for a crawl."
Theo glanced at her — a silent stay sharp — then slipped into darkness.
Through the Perimeter
They moved like shadows: Theo first, Lara close, Marcus a silent ghost behind until splitting to find a sniper perch. Rain beaded on Theo's coat but he made no sound on wet gravel.
A gang lookout smoked by a barrel fire. Theo timed the man's gaze, slid under cover of a generator's roar, cut a hole in the fence with silent shears. Lara followed through, smooth as a cat.
Inside the yard the smell of oil and wet iron clung heavy. Sophie whispered instructions: "Ten metres ahead, right two steps — minefield gap. Next, angle left around rail tie."
Theo obeyed without pause, committing each path to memory. Lara matched his footfalls exactly. A single misstep could turn the night to fire.
At the first dig site an elevator cage rattled up with wet soil. Veil engineers shouted in Russian. Lara crouched to photograph maps tacked to a scaffold. Theo planted a coin-sized seismic/audio sensor under a pile of timbers.
Two guards wandered past, talking. Theo stilled, melting into shadow until they moved on. Only then did he brush Lara's arm: move.
Old Traps, New Tricks
The second shaft was older — Nazi brickwork yawning from under Soviet concrete. A crooked МИНЫ sign hung on rusting wire. Theo crouched, gloved hands tracing a tripwire almost invisible in mud.
"Live?" Lara breathed.
"Live," Theo whispered back. Calm, patient, he cut and bridged wires, inserted a matchbox-sized transmitter. "Now ours."
She grinned despite the cold. "You just hacked Soviet mines."
"Preparation," he murmured.
Heart of the Dig
Floodlights turned rain to silver needles around a massive steel door half-unearthed from the earth. Nazi eagles and swastikas glared from its plates. Crates of explosives and radar equipment lay stacked nearby.
Two Veil officers argued at a map table. Theo and Lara crept close enough for a directional mic.
"…Der Meister arrives in three days."
"…Amber Chamber opened before he comes. Blackwood interference in Morocco noted."
Lara's eyes snapped to Theo: They know.
He slid another bug beneath tarps. "Got it?" he whispered.
"Streaming live," Sophie murmured.
A guard emerged unexpectedly, flashlight swinging. Theo pulled Lara into shadow, bodies still as stone. The beam swept inches away, lingered, then turned when another shouted about a cable problem. Only then did Theo breathe.
Retreat, he signed. They slipped back through mud and rain, threading mine gaps by memory.
Marcus was waiting with the engine running two streets over. They ducked inside, soaked and silent. Sophie's face glowed with screen light. "Sensors live. We own their comms, audio, seismic — everything."
Lara leaned back, exhaling hard. "Close one."
"Worth it," Theo said, quiet steel.
Safehouse, Hours Before Dawn
The villa's ballroom was now a war room. Maps were spread across the long table; rain streaked the tall windows. Marcus stripped his rifle and oiled it with soldier's care while Sophie poured steaming mugs of black tea.
She turned the laptop so everyone could see the feed from their planted bugs: grainy night-vision of Veil mercenaries working the dig, Russian chatter translated in live captions.
"They're on a countdown," Sophie said. "Three days until something called Der Meister arrives with heavier kit. Their goal: open that Nazi door, take the 'Amber Chamber'—and whatever this Sacrum Mens thing is."
Marcus grunted. "If they get inside first, we're fighting underground in their kill box."
Lara leaned over the table, eyes bright. "So we go first."
Theo didn't answer immediately. He studied the swaying green lines of the minefield overlay, then the silver key lying on the table. Finally: "Yes. We hit before they reinforce."
Sophie looked up. "MI6 is still pinging our digital trail. They know we're here."
Theo's expression didn't shift. "They'll keep watching."
Lara smirked. "Unless they decide to meddle."
"That's their mistake," Theo said quietly.
The Knock
A single hard knock echoed through the draughty villa. Everyone froze.
Marcus was up with rifle raised; Sophie killed lights with a keystroke. Theo checked the peephole — saw a lone man in a soaked trench coat, hood low.
He opened just enough to see the face.
Henry Vale.
Time hadn't softened him: lean, silver at the temples, eyes that weighed everything. Theo's former MI6 handler stepped inside without waiting.
"Evening, Blackwood." His voice was calm, cultured. "Still collecting strays, I see." His glance swept Marcus (steady, armed), Lara (cool, unreadable), Sophie (tense but ready).
Theo stayed still. "You're far from Vauxhall."
"London thought someone should have a word." Vale shook rain from his coat and took in the maps, weapons, satellite feeds. "You're causing quite a stir. Nazi ghost trains? Cult wars? Not very retired of you."
"I'm keeping relics from monsters."
Vale's smile was thin. "Admirable. But if you detonate half of Eastern Europe, admirable won't save you. I'm instructed to say there are limits."
Theo's gaze didn't waver. "And if I ignore them?"
"Then the soft watch becomes hard interference." Vale's eyes flicked to Lara. "And your friends here will find MI6 less… tolerant."
Lara met his look with a small, lethal smile. "We've met worse."
Vale chuckled once. "No doubt. Still, London's curious — and not yet hostile. Stay surgical, Blackwood."
Theo said quietly, "Stay out of my way and we'll stop a war before it starts."
Vale studied him for a heartbeat, the mentor who had once trained him. Then he nodded once — a soldier's acknowledgement. "Be quick. Don't die." He turned and vanished into the wet night.
Marcus locked the door behind him. Silence stretched.
"Friendly ghost?" Marcus asked at last.
"Warning ghost," Theo said.
Sophie exhaled. "So MI6's watching but giving us rope."
Lara leaned on the table, grin crooked. "Then let's swing it before they pull."
Theo closed his hand over the silver key. "We move before Der Meister lands."
The room warmed again as heaters hummed, but the air stayed sharp with decision.
Theo stood at the head of the table, eyes on the projected dig site. Rainwater still dotted his coat from letting Vale in and out.
"Three days," Sophie said quietly. "Then Der Meister and heavy gear arrive. They'll breach that Nazi vault before dawn on the fourth."
Marcus slid a fresh magazine into his carbine with a sharp click. "Then we hit before the circus arrives. Small team, fast entry."
Lara sat back, boots crossed on a chair, grin crooked. "You realise we're planning to hijack a Nazi treasure train under a cult dig site guarded by Soviet mines?"
Theo's eyes flicked to her. "Yes."
Her smile widened. "Good. Just checking."
Sophie spun her screen around: satellite overlays of the Nordbahnhof. "Mines here, here, and here — Theo owns a section we can detonate remotely if we need an escape or diversion. Tunnels run east and west. Veil is digging from the west shaft; we'll enter from an old east maintenance spur I found in Soviet blueprints."
Marcus nodded. "Blow their flank, slip in, seal the train from the inside."
"And take everything before they know what happened," Lara said.
Theo didn't smile, but there was something alive in his eyes. "Exactly."
He looked over the team — the soldier, the hacker, the adventurer who might just steal his guarded heart — and let the plan settle.
"Gear check tonight. We move before dawn."
Sophie raised an eyebrow. "No sleep?"
"Sleep on the plane home," Marcus muttered, already loading ammo.
Lara slid a knife into her boot and met Theo's gaze. "I like this plan."
Theo answered softly, "It's dangerous."
She shrugged. "So are we."
Later – Quiet Moment
Long after the others went to prep, Theo stepped onto the cracked balcony. Rain whispered through pines. He held the silver key up to the city lights, turning it in his fingers.
Behind him, Lara joined, silent for a while. "Your old handler doesn't scare easy."
"Neither do we."
"You ready for this?"
Theo's gaze stayed on the key. "I've hunted these shadows since I was ten. Every step has led here."
Lara's smile was gentle but fierce. "Then let's finish what they started."
For a heartbeat, two solitary lives built on loss stood side by side, sharing the same war.
Morning
By first light the villa was a quiet armoury. Packs stood ready: weapons suppressed and oiled, climbing gear, drones, demo charges, medical kits. Sophie ran last diagnostics; Marcus checked edges and detonators; Lara flexed gloved hands, eyes bright.
Theo buckled on a black field coat, its cut still aristocratic even loaded with gear. He looked every inch soldier and duke at once.
"Tonight we end their dig," he said. "We take the train before the Veil or MI6 can claim it."
No speeches, no theatrics — just calm certainty.
Lara shouldered her pack. "Let's wake some ghosts."
Marcus grinned faintly. "And make some new ones."
Sophie exhaled and hit save on her last data dump. "All systems go."
Theo turned toward the door, silver key safe inside his coat. The storm outside had eased, but the sky hung low and heavy over the Baltic.
"Move out," he said.
The Ghost Duke's war for the past was about to break wide open.