CHAPTER 174: THE TRAP

"He’s going to know," Layla whispered, her gaze locked on Allen’s shaking figure. "Just look at him. He’s terrified. Downson will see right through this."

Axel tightened his grip on her shoulder in an attempt to steady the nerves threatening to overwhelm her.

The dimly lit surveillance van felt tense, the monitor illuminating their anxious expressions. The scene played out before them, a wide-open space between the rusted shipping containers, and in it, Allen stood, visibly shaken as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Layla’s pulse quickened as she thought about Tye, who lurked somewhere in the shadows with a small tactical team, waiting for just the right moment.

"He’ll hold," Axel said, though his voice carried doubt. "He has to."

The headlights pierced the darkness as a glossy black sedan rolled into the clearing, its tyres crunching over the gravel. The engine turned off, and for a brief moment, everything was silent.

Then J. Downson stepped out.

He was in his late forties, dressed in an expensive suit that seemed out of place in the industrial wasteland. His movements were cautious; one hand stayed in his pocket as he approached Allen.

"He’s armed," Axel muttered into his radio. "Tye, confirm you have eyes."

"Confirmed," Tye’s voice crackled back. "We’re ready."

Downson circled Allen slowly, like a predator sizing up prey.

Then, without warning, he grabbed the younger man and began patting him down. His hands running over his jacket, his pants, checking for cameras or microphones.

Layla held her breath.

Allen had insisted the wire was undetectable: a contact lens with an embedded micro-camera in one eye, the microphone hidden in a custom car key holder that looked completely ordinary.

But if Downson found anything...

After what felt like an eternity, Downson stepped back, apparently satisfied.

"What’s so urgent that you had to drag me out here?" His voice was clipped, annoyed.

Allen’s voice trembled through the speakers. "They know. Layla O’Brien... she’s asking about confidential documents leaked to competitors. She even mentioned... him."

"Him who?"

"Charles. Charles Watson."

Downson scoffed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "She knows nothing concrete. Charles Watson is handling the situation. He pays me to handle these problems, and it’s handled. The cartel isn’t looking at him; they’re looking at her and her husband."

In the van, Layla and Axel locked eyes. That was the first verbal confirmation linking Downson directly to Charles and the cartel frame-up.

Allen pressed on, sounding desperate. "But they’re auditing their finances against some records that they claimed to have found! If the edits we made get traced back to you, it gets traced back to me! Charles needs to fix this now before it’s too late!"

Downson’s patience visibly thinned. His jaw clenched, and he took a step closer to Allen. "Charles doesn’t ’fix’ things, you idiot. He ends them." Another step. "He paid me to make a problem disappear. You did your part in leaking those files. But now?" He was right in Allen’s face now. "Now you’re a loose end."

Downson pulled his hand out of his pocket, and the sodium lights reflected off something shiny. It was a gun, complete with a silencer.

"You did well, kid," Downson said, almost conversationally. "But Charles was right when he told me you’d eventually panic and become a liability. This is business. Nothing personal."

He raised the weapon, aiming at Allen’s chest.

"Now!" Axel barked into the radio.

Darkness exploded into motion.

Tye and his team emerged from the shadows, weapons trained on Downson. Red laser sights danced across his chest.

"Drop it, Downson!" Tye’s voice echoed through the compound.

Downson quickly turned around, his instincts kicking in. He started shooting randomly, the silenced pistol making quiet phut-phut noises. Bullets ricocheted off the metal containers nearby.

But Tye’s team was faster.

A Taser shot off, the electrodes hitting Downson right in the chest. A surge of fifty thousand volts surged through him, causing his body to convulse. He dropped the pistol and fell hard onto the concrete, his body twitching uncontrollably.

"Go, go!" Axel was already moving, bursting from the van.

Layla followed, her legs carrying her across the distance before her brain caught up. They reached the clearing just as Tye’s team secured Downson’s wrists with zip ties.

Allen had collapsed to his knees, sobbing with relief.

Tye knelt beside the groaning Downson and immediately began patting him down. He pulled two burner phones from inside jacket pockets.

"Professional," Tye muttered, examining the phones. "These are probably encrypted and wiped regularly."

"Check his car," Axel ordered.

Two team members moved to the black sedan. They searched quickly and efficiently, pulling items from the glove compartment and console.

"Got a smartphone," one called out.

Tye took it, unlocking it with Downson’s face and swiping through the contents. His expression darkened. "Encrypted messages, deleted call logs....wait." He stopped, zooming in on something. "There’s a photo here."

He held up the phone screen.

Layla leaned in to look, and her breath caught.

It was Erica Chen. Unmistakable, even in the dim light of the screenshot. She was smiling in the photo, sitting in what appeared to be a restaurant, dressed casually.

"Isn’t this your friend?" Tye asked. "The one who’s now in prison?"

"Yes," Layla said slowly, her mind racing through implications. "That’s Erica."

Downson, still on the ground but recovering from the Taser, let out a bitter laugh. "You think you’re so smart. You have no idea how deep this goes."

"Why do you have Erica’s photo?" Axel demanded.

Downson just smiled, blood on his teeth from where he’d bitten his tongue. "I’m not obligated to say shit."

Tye grabbed him by his collar. "You’re going to talk right now, or I’m handing you over to the Sinaloa and telling them you’re the one who stole their money."

"You won’t do that."

"Try me."

But Downson’s smile didn’t waver. "I’m not saying a word. And even if you could force me to talk, Charles Watson made sure I have nothing that directly connects to him. Everything goes through intermediaries. I’m insulated."

Tye looked at Axel, clearly frustrated. "This guy is a professional. He’s not going to talk just because we caught him. He knows how things work in our world."

Layla stared at the phone screen, at Erica’s smiling face. Something was forming in her mind, pieces clicking together.

"No, he won’t talk," she said quietly. "But she will."

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Erica cooperated once already," Layla continued, her voice gaining strength. "She testified against Cassandra to reduce her sentence. She knows how this works. And if Downson has her photo in his phone..." She met Axel’s eyes. "He was the middleman, but he wasn’t the only one on the inside. They knew each other. Erica wasn’t just helping Cassandra, she somehow got missed in Charles’s entire operation."

"You think Erica can connect Downson to Charles?" Axel asked.

"There’s only one way to find out."