Chapter 25 Traitor Hunt

  “The existence of the traitor suggests an increased danger level of this operation. Feel free to talk to me in private and cancel our contract… no penalties would be incurred. Now, dismiss…”

  “That’s just rich,” remarked the exhausted Marauder.

  “Enough,” instilled Lion King, “Leave the Captain alone.”

  The two brutes stared at each other like they were trying to kill themselves.

  “Give it a rest, cowboys,” Vortex shrugged off the atmosphere and went on his merry way.

  Mathilda dispersed the rest of our group with a wave, I found myself lingering, debating whether to convene with Sharpy or not. Picking her brain seemed like a solid move, her sharp instincts often brought fresh perspectives. Just as I made my decision, Mathilda’s voice snaked into my ear through her Acoustokinesis, soft but commanding.

  “Come to my cabin. Don’t make it obvious. Use your powers to sneak if you have to.”

  The directness of her tone left no room for argument. I kept my face neutral, not wanting to give anything away. When Sharpy caught my eye and asked where I was heading, I played it off casually. “Hey, champ, let’s talk,” she said.

  “Restroom,” I said, shrugging.

  She didn’t question it, and I made my way down the hall. A few turns later, I phased through the wall of an empty corridor, cutting across spaces no one would expect me to traverse. Slipping through layers of steel and wood, I reached Mathilda’s cabin in no time. I solidified my form and knocked twice before entering.

  Mathilda was already seated at her desk, her sharp eyes fixed on me. She waved me inside and gestured for me to close the door behind me.

  “I’ll shoot straight,” she said without preamble, leaning forward. “Help me find the traitor.”

  Her words hung heavy in the air.

  “Help?” I repeated, feigning surprise. “From me?”

  What the hell was she thinking?

  If she was planning to catch the traitor, why announce their existence?

  Mathilda nodded. “We’ve lost too many critical moments to chalk it up to coincidence. The SRC was tipped off about our plans. They knew where to strike, how to hit us when we were most vulnerable. Someone is feeding them information.”

  I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, pretending to mull it over. Inside, I was already running through the list of people on board. “Any suspects?”

  “Too many,” she admitted, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t openly investigate without tipping off the traitor. That’s why I need someone who can operate in the shadows. Someone like you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You trust me?”

  Mathilda’s gaze was steady. “I don’t trust anyone. But I’ve been watching you. You’re thorough, resourceful, and don’t have any obvious ties to the Pride or SRC. If anyone can do this quietly, it’s you.”

  Her logic was sound, but it also painted a target on my back if things went sideways. Still, turning her down wasn’t an option.

  “What do you need from me?” I asked.

  “Start with the capes,” she said, sliding a list across the desk. It was handwritten, names scrawled in neat, precise letters. “These are the ones who had access to critical information before our plans were leaked. Look for anything suspicious... behavior, discrepancies in their stories, anything.”

  I glanced at the list. The names were familiar: Sharpy, Vortex, Blackout, Marauder, the Triplets, and even Lion King, Gladiatress, and Berserker. It wasn't even a list, and... I sighed.

  "The list is in arranged in a descending order of who I suspect the most," she added. "Investigate them as you see fit. While this list might prove to be biased from your perspective, I trust that you will make the right judgment when it counts."

  If I had to pick someone who I found most suspicious, it would be Mathilda, but since she was effectively my boss on the field, I could only listen and comply.

  “How long have you known this? And if you’re planning to catch the traitor, why expose them now?” I asked, leaning forward. “Wouldn’t that just alert them and make them go to ground?”

  Mathilda didn’t flinch under my questioning, her composure unshaken. “Those are reasonable questions,” she said, folding her hands on the desk. “I’ve known about the existence of a traitor for some time now. Royal tasked me with identifying them after Sharpy raised her concerns about Pride sabotaging her attempts to raise her crew.”

  I frowned. “Sharpy suspected Pride?”

  Mathilda nodded. “She believed someone within the organization was undercutting her efforts, feeding information to the SRC or other groups. It was subtle at first. Plans that should have gone smoothly were met with uncharacteristic resistance. But the incidents grew more frequent, and the connections more obvious.”

  “Okay,” I said, crossing my arms. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re revealing the traitor’s existence now. If anything, it gives them a head start to cover their tracks.”

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  “The reason I’ve exposed the existence of the traitor,” Mathilda continued, “is to narrow down their options. Our cargo is critical, more valuable than anything we’ve carried in years. I’m betting the traitor won’t risk leaving the ship without seeing this mission through. Their greed, their allegiance, or their mission—whatever motivates them will keep them here.”

  I nodded slowly, starting to see her angle.

  “But there’s more,” Mathilda said, her eyes narrowing. “If the traitor knows we’re onto them, they might panic. Hopefully, someone will come to me under the guise of ‘concern’ and ask to cancel their contract or leave early. That, in itself, could be telling.”

  “And where do I come in?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew.

  “I need you to suggest that possibility to your fellow freelancers,” she said, her tone sharp. “Encourage them to consider cutting ties or asking for reassignment. If they’re innocent, they might brush it off or joke about it. But if they’re guilty…”

  “They’ll react,” I finished for her.

  “Precisely.” Mathilda leaned back, her expression calculating. "Best case scenario, they make a mistake and we catch them in the act."

  But what if all of them or multiples of them decided to cancel their contracts?

  The Pride capes had no choice about the matter, but to stay. However, the independents weren't beholden to Mathilda. Honestly, I have the impression that Mathilda was being careless...

  I considered the situation for a moment. It seemed that Mathilda was unaware that Royal was using me to spring the traitor, or maybe she knew and had been instructed to use me as a reliable pawn. I realized now that I wasn’t just extra muscle for guarding the cargo, but also played a necessary part in helping catch this traitor. I decided to press a little further.

  "Just a curious question... feel free to decline answering. What is the range of your hearing?" I asked.

  Mathilda didn’t hesitate, her voice steady as she replied, “The entire ship, if I wanted to. And yes, I’ve heard your conversation with Sharpy, how she’s gunning for the traitor too. All the independents hired on this job had a good working relationship with Pride, so the traitor would definitely be among them.”

  I frowned, deep in thought, but pressed on, “Why not from the three additional Pride capes?”

  Mathilda’s lips curved into a faint smirk, one that didn’t quite reach her calculating eyes. “A fair question,” she said, her voice measured. “The three Pride capes—Lion King, Gladiatress, and Berserker—are loyal to Royal. Their contracts are ironclad, and their history with Pride runs deep. None of them has reason to betray us, especially not on a mission of this magnitude.”

  “History doesn’t make someone incorruptible,” I countered. “Loyalty can be bought, coerced, or compromised.”

  “True,” she conceded, “but I’ve vetted them extensively. Their movements, their conversations... everything. They’ve passed my scrutiny.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “But you’re not so sure about the freelancers.”

  Mathilda leaned forward, her expression hardening. “Freelancers have no allegiance beyond their paychecks. They come and go as they please, making them harder to track and predict. That’s why Royal insisted on extra layers of oversight for this mission. You’re right, Eclipse... you’re not just here for muscle. You’re here because your powers and methods make you uniquely suited to flush out whoever is working against us.”

  I couldn’t help but smirk. “So I’m bait and muscle. Great.”

  Her smirk mirrored mine. “You’re a lot more than that, but let’s not get caught up in semantics.”

  I leaned back, crossing my arms. “You really think the traitor is one of us freelancers?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “The independents hired for this mission all have good working relationships with Pride on the surface, but that doesn’t mean they’re above reproach. Everyone here has something to gain... or lose. Pressure will reveal who’s hiding what.”

  Her confidence was unsettling, but also impressive. Mathilda was clearly playing a long game, her mind working three steps ahead of everyone else. Or maybe, she was just an arrogant know-it-all who was in fact out of her depth.

  “Alright,” I said after a moment. “I’ll stir the pot and see who cracks. But I’m not taking the fall if this plan blows up in our faces.”

  “Noted,” Mathilda replied coolly. “Just remember... failure isn’t an option here. The cargo, the mission, and Royal’s reputation are all riding on this. Don’t let me down, Eclipse.”

  As I phased out of her cabin, my mind raced with possibilities. Mathilda’s confidence in the Pride capes was either misplaced or calculated. The fact that she’d singled out the freelancers, including me, meant I had to watch my back.

  The ship felt smaller and more dangerous now.

  Every ally could be an enemy, every conversation a trap. I needed to tread carefully if I wanted to survive this, and maybe, just maybe, uncover the truth.

  “If that is all, I suggest you be on your way. Your room should be in 203. If you need anything, just come to me.” Mathilda returned to her paperwork.

  Taking her advice, I phased through the solid wall instead of using the door. No footsteps to give me away, no awkward encounters in the corridors. Just the silent, intangible slip into the ship’s innards.

  I navigated through the vessel’s labyrinthine layout, passing rows of identical doors and dimly lit hallways. The metallic hum of the ship surrounded me, the faint scent of saltwater seeping through the steel barriers. After a bit of aimless wandering—let’s call it “exploration”—I finally found my destination: room 203.

  The first thing I noticed was that the door wasn’t fully shut. It creaked open with the faintest push, and I stepped inside, immediately struck by the cozy, borderline claustrophobic setup. Twin beds crammed into the small room, a shared desk, and a single porthole that offered a view of the endless ocean beyond.

  What struck me next, though, was the occupant already inside.

  Sharpy.

  She stood at the desk, her back to me, focused on whatever she was doing. Her shoulders were squared, her stance rigid and definitely not relaxed. It took her about two seconds to notice my presence, and she glanced over her shoulder with a scowl.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said, her voice flat.

  “Charmed, I’m sure,” I replied, stepping fully into the room and letting the door click shut behind me. “You know, I expected many things when I signed up for this job, but rooming with you wasn’t one of them.”

  “Neither was rooming with you,” she shot back, turning back to the desk. “Mathilda said something about keeping us freelancers grouped together. Better communication or some nonsense like that.”

  I dropped my bag onto the empty bed, the mattress groaning under the weight. “Convenient,” I muttered. “She failed to mention this part.”

  Sharpy shrugged, her attention still on whatever she was working on. I craned my neck to get a look. It was a map, marked with notes and coordinates.

  “Planning something?” I asked, crossing my arms.

  “Always,” she replied without turning. “And so should you. This ship might be under Pride’s control, but it’s not exactly safe.”

  “Believe me, I’ve been planning since before you even got here,” I said, leaning against the wall. “But tell me, Sharpy, are you working on your next big move, or are you still trying to sniff out that traitor?”

  She stiffened slightly at the mention, but it was only for a fraction of a second. Then she turned to face me, her gaze sharp and searching. “You know something I don’t?”

  I smirked, twirling a card between my fingers. “Plenty. But I don’t give out information for free.”

  “Of course you don’t,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  I moved to my bed and sat down, stretching out casually. “Well, since we’re stuck together, this should be fun.”

  Sharpy snorted, turning back to her desk. “Let’s just stay out of each other’s way, Eclipse. I’ve got work to do.”

  I didn’t respond, but my mind was already spinning. Sharing a room with Sharpy could either be an opportunity or a disaster. Time would tell which one it turned out to be.