History: "Ghost Frame"

 

 

Chapter 1: A Man in the Void

Diana Lecrerc, a seasoned social event photographer, never imagined that one of her snapshots would spark a conspiracy that would drag her into the darkest corners of science and crime.

Lecrerc was a middle-aged photographer whose career began in prestigious Parisian fashion magazines. Over time, she became independent and established her own studio as a freelance photographer, specializing in magazines, travel agencies, and social event coverage.

Although she had achieved some success, her personal life wasn't as stable as she had hoped: she was divorced and led a solitary life, with a teenage daughter studying in Copenhagen, which sometimes left her feeling empty and lonely. Her inquisitive nature and experience as a photographer had given her a unique perspective when faced with uncertain situations, such as the one unleashed by photography on the Olympia Space Station.

She leaned back in her chair, looking at the photo she'd captured by accident. It had been taken during her last coverage at Space Station Olympia, during an elegant event that had brought together Earth's most influential figures. But it wasn't the gala that concerned her now, but rather what had been captured in one of her photographs: a man floating in the void, a few hundred meters from the station, with a face she couldn't identify. There was no reason for him to be there, and yet he was.

He remembered the exact moment of the shot, taken through the station's immense windows, which allowed him to see the depths of space, studded with nebulas and stars, in all their splendor. But he didn't remember noticing the man floating in the midst of the terrifying blackness of the space background.

The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts. It was the call she'd been waiting for. She answered in a tense voice:

—"Diana Lecrerc"-

"Are you the photographer who covered the event at Olympia Station?" a male voice asked on the other end of the line.

"Yes, who's speaking?" she replied, unable to hide her intrigue.

"My name is Malcolm Smith, I work with the event organizer who hired you. I've received a report about a photograph that's been causing a bit of a stir. We're talking about an image of... a man floating in the void. Could you explain what it is?" His tone was serious, but there was also something in his voice that conveyed a clear sense of discomfort.

Diana looked at the photo again. The man's face floating in space was as sharp as if it had been captured at close range, even though he was clearly a few hundred meters from the station.

"A floating man? Yes, I know. That's been bothering me. No one has reported any missing persons, either on the station or on Earth, and yet there he is, in my photo. Who is that person?" she asked, her voice strained.

There was a brief silence on the line.

—"Honestly, Miss Lecrerc, I have been unable to find any records of any disappearances during the event, either on the station or in official Earth databases. I'm sure it must be a camera glitch or some kind of optical illusion. I imagine it could be a superposition of two images," Malcolm replied quickly, as if he had expected that question.

Diana felt a pang of frustration.

"I've been thinking the same thing. I've reviewed the image several times, and I've also consulted with a couple of technicians. It doesn't appear to be a camera error or two overlapping images. Are you telling me you're not going to investigate this?" His tone became firmer.

—"Well, if there are no reports of disappearances or accidents at Olympia Station... Honestly, I don't think there's much to worry about, do you think? I suggest you don't worry, Diana. In any case, I plan to continue to keep an eye on developments, and if I find out anything new, I'll get in touch with you. That's okay? In the meantime, the matter will be handled internally. Honestly, I don't think it's something we should worry about."— he replied with a calmness that didn't quite reassure her.

At the end of the conversation, the photographer wasn't convinced. She decided to make one last inquiry before leaving. She made a copy of the photograph, saving it to her cell phone, and thought it best to seek out someone with more authority.

With no specific idea about which agency or person to consult, she finally went to the National Security Agency, where she was greeted by an official who listened patiently and then referred her to the office of a detective who specialized in unconventional cases. Detective Steve Crettan was sitting in his office, looking at a case on his screen, when Diana walked in.

She looked up from her screen. Apparently, she'd already been notified by the intercom. She asked , "Are you the photographer who has the image of the man floating in space?" Crettan seemed to be watching her as he quickly scrutinized her. Diana felt slightly uncomfortable, feeling like he was watching her to decide if she was crazy.

"Yes," Diana replied, scrutinizing the detective in turn. She quickly scanned the room, filled with papers and flashing screens. She sat down at the detective's desk without waiting for an invitation . "I need help understanding what's going on. I haven't been able to find this man in any official reports. As far as I know, no one at Olympia Station has identified him. How is this possible?"

Crettan looked up. His eyes were intense, but his expression remained neutral. He conveyed a restrained calm. In a way, Diana felt she was looking at a ruthless person.

—"You'd be surprised to know all the strange cases I'm involved in. I assure you, if there's something behind that photo, I'll find it. Now let me see the photograph. Transfer the photo to my device. Your phone will automatically connect." He reached out, bringing a device close to the woman's phone, and Diana transferred the stored image to her. The image quickly appeared on the detective's desktop computer screen. Steve examined it for a long time. He used an editing program. He shrank and enlarged the photo until it was pixelated, looking for alterations or strange signs. He played with colors and contrasts, taking the palettes to their maximum and minimum scales.

The detective's eyes scanned the screen carefully with each adjustment, as if waiting to find some anomaly. He looked like a bloodhound focused on its prey. Finally, after a long moment, he spoke . "The photo seems fine. This man... I don't recognize him. But that's not surprising. If he's not important or famous, it's not surprising that he's unknown. And I don't recall his face from any official files. Are you sure this isn't a false alarm, some kind of camera malfunction?"

Diana looked at him, her jaw clenching.

"I've spoken to several technicians, Detective. I've reviewed everything. This isn't a mistake." Diana paused, letting the words sink into the air . "I'm starting to think this is more than just a photograph."

Crettan raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, but the silence was enough for Diana to continue.

"Listen, Detective. I'm not going to sit back and do nothing. I've got a monumentally strange situation on my hands, and I'm not going to ignore it without at least trying to investigate what happened that night."

Steve Crettan smiled as he raised his hands and bowed his head . "Diana, may I call you that? I haven't said anything about it. Almost everyone who comes to this office at some point has been thought of as crazy, a lunatic, or on drugs. So, calm down, okay?"

Those words eased Diana's pent-up tension a little.

The detective continued , "The first thing I'll do is identify the face. That'll be a good place to start. If the system indicates that the face was generated by artificial intelligence, we can relax and think it was a joke or a technical error. But if it's a real person, that'll be a starting point for the investigation."

The words reassured Diana and gave her some confidence. She nodded, a smile spreading across her face.

Crettan smiled back. "That's better, Diana. Honestly, I don't think it's a hoax. If someone I knew had played a prank on me, I wouldn't have let a Homeland Security detective get involved to investigate. If it is a prank, it's gone too far because being investigated by Homeland Security is already considered a crime."

They exchanged information to keep in touch.

Diana finally left Crettan's office, though she still wasn't entirely satisfied. Throughout her short investigation, the answers she'd received were always the same: evasive, insubstantial. There seemed to be nothing tangible to help her, and the feeling that something sinister was looming over her grew ever stronger.

On her way back to the office, Diana kept thinking about the man floating in the air. Something inside her told her this wasn't a simple photographic glitch, and that the detective would eventually discover something that could change everything she knew about the space station.

Upon reaching her destination, Diana slammed the door shut. She was sure something was going on, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

Diana Lecrerc felt a chill as she walked through the doors of the National Security Agency. She'd been trying to get someone to take her photograph seriously, and when she finally succeeded, her case ended up in the hands of Detective Steve Crettan.

A few days had passed since their first meeting, and now Crettan had called him to meet at the Homeland Security building.

The detective's office was an organized mess. Files were piled high, monitors with multiple data windows open, and a cold cup of coffee sat on the edge of the desk. Crettan had a steely gaze and a gruff manner. He greeted her as he invited her to sit. He held up the picture Diana had given him on her previous visit and, pointing at it, said:

—"Indeed, no one disappeared at Olympia Station, Diana," Crettan continued, his eyes glued to the photograph . "And yet, here we have a man floating in the void. Strange."

"Very strange," Diana confirmed . "And the most disturbing thing is that no one seems to want to talk about it."

"Now we can say we're making progress,"  Crettan told him he had searched the image in various local National Security Agency facial recognition systems without success. He had to browse through databases from different countries for a few days, until, when analyzing the photo with the information from Belgium, the software produced a result that made the detective click his tongue. And now  he would share the information with the photographer.

—“Your reckless stranger was named Alan Forsyth,” he read aloud . “Scientist, expert in quantum physics, disappeared five years ago on a mission called Argos to the planet   Mars. Officially, it was reported that the entire crew perished when the ship lost contact with the base.”

Diana crossed her arms while

—“If Forsyth has been dead for so long, how do we explain this photograph taken just a week ago?”-

Crettan exhaled slowly.

—“I assure you we will find out, Diana. I’ve ordered a space search for the body. It’s going to be difficult to locate something so small, but I’m sure we’ll succeed. We already have the exact coordinates of the body at the time the photograph was taken. And we’re tracking the body along the trajectories suggested by the computers. It’s just a matter of time.”

Diana asked, intrigued. “With Forsyth dead while part of a missing expedition… what about the rest of the crew? And the ship?”

Steve looked grim about it . “We now know that the Argos operation was orchestrated by a company called Cyclops. Let’s investigate and see what we can find out about the Argos mission and its connection to Cyclops.”

According to official information, Forsyth and his team had perished in space when their ship lost contact with the base. However, the appearance of the scientist in a recent image contradicted the official story.

Crettan began investigating the circumstances of the expedition and soon discovered that behind the incident was a Belgian organization called Cyclops, which at the time of the ship's disappearance was developing a teleportation project.

The official files contained vague references to the scope of the experiments and numerous sealed documents, which led to suspicions that something deeper was hidden.

He questioned several current members of Cyclops, but they were all extremely reluctant to talk about the matter.

"Detective, we have nothing further to report on that expedition. After losing communications, all attempts to track the Argos and its crew were unsuccessful. We believe it was an unfortunate accident, nothing more. Most likely a meteor shower and explosive decompression," a company executive said coldly, crossing his arms.

"It's strange that they call the disappearance of an entire ship and its crew an accident, and that the appearance of Dr. Forsyth in a recent photo very close to Earth doesn't easily allow for that conjecture about the Argos. Don't you think?" Crettan insisted, leaning on the desk with both hands.

The executive looked away and shook his head.

—“We have no further information to share with you, Detective. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have meetings to attend.”

Crettan left, but the refusal to give him more information confirmed what he already suspected: Cyclops was hiding something.

 

Chapter 2. The Riddle of Argos 

He decided to look for former employees who had changed companies. With an investigation underway, Homeland Security could gain access to the company's systems. Reluctantly, the system administrators granted him permission to access the   Argos Project's public and classified files.

He painstakingly went through the records of those involved in the Argos teleportation project, one by one. Some had worked on the research but were no longer associated with the company.

He located a former engineer, Michel Van Houden, who now worked for an independent consulting firm in Brussels.

They met in a small café in the city center. Van Houden seemed somewhat nervous, looking around as if afraid of being watched. The beginning of the conversation wasn't easy:

—“You really shouldn’t be here, detective,” the ex-engineer muttered, stirring his coffee.

"I just want to know the truth about the expedition where everyone disappeared, including Dr. Forsyth," Crettan said, placing a photograph of the doctor on the table. He continued, "I spoke with one of the directors at Ciclope. He gave me to understand that after the failure of Argos, the teleportation project was abandoned."

Van Houden looked at the image the detective was showing him. His hand trembled slightly as he held the cup.

—“Well…”—he cleared his throat slightly— “It’s not quite like that…”—

—“Explain it to me.”

The ex-engineer lowered his voice.

—“Cyclops never abandoned the teleportation project. I personally continued working for over a year after Forsyth's expedition disappeared. That was more than just a mission to Mars. It was going to be the ultimate test. But it was going wrong... even before departure.”

Crettan frowned. Something was seriously wrong with this whole story. And he needed more answers. He asked:

-“What was wrong?”-

Michel Van Houden gestured with his hands, indicating that he didn't know much about the background of the disagreement. "I don't know much. I know that Forsyth had a big disagreement with the Board about the direction of the project. But I never really knew what was going on. A couple of days before Argos left, there was a big fight between the Board and Forsyth. I don't know anything more than that."

Crettan couldn't get much more out of it. But he took the opportunity to ask the engineer about the company's business.

Cyclops was a corporation with too many secrets. Its research extended to space exploration, advanced propulsion technology, and, according to old files and records, teleportation experiments.

What Van Houden told him coincided with what other members had told him. It seemed as if everyone had been trained to say the same thing, as if it were a movie script: teleportation was never viable, and the Argos mission was a tragic failure that led to the cancellation of the experiment.

However, amid the many evasive answers and complicit silences, Crettan discovered that, like Van Houden, not all of the scientists involved in the teleportation project traveled on the Argos. Some remained on Earth, while others changed course after the alleged tragedy.

Photographer Diana Lecrerc, now sitting across from Crettan in his office, leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed, her hands clasped in her lap.

—“Steve, I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I feel like I’m being followed,” she said quietly, almost as if she was afraid someone else might hear her . “Ever since I started getting involved with this whole thing, I’m seeing cars every day that seem to be taking the same routes I am… I don’t know, but I have a bad feeling about this. I may be paranoid, but it even seems like there are a couple of people I just happen to run into every day.”

Crettan narrowed his eyes and rested his elbows on his desk. Looking at the big picture, his intuition told him Diana wasn't exaggerating. There were too many loose ends and too many shadows surrounding Cyclops's activities to ignore her suspicions. If the corporation felt threatened by the investigation, he was sure they wouldn't hesitate to take measures such as systematic surveillance or… more drastic measures.

—“If you’re right, Diana, and someone is following you, it means we’re getting close to something important,” the detective said . “Unfortunately, you made a lot of calls and spoke to a lot of people before coming to my office. Many are aware of the investigation. What you’re saying is possible, of course it is.”

Diana took a deep breath . “What should I do? Hide under the bed? I know I can’t protect myself alone, but I’m not going to do that, Crettan. No way.” She sounded convinced.

After a few moments, Crettan made a decision. “I don’t think it’s a situation of imminent danger. At least not for you, Diana. Nothing that would justify putting you under guard. But if you’re feeling uneasy, I had an idea… What if I brought you into my team, undercover? You can help me like a secretary might. Help review files, look for information that I can point you to. At the same time, you’ll be close to me, almost keeping you under guard, which would allow me to protect you if necessary.”

Diana Leclerc watched him silently for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea. The detective would keep her close, off Cyclops's radar, and would also take advantage of her perceptiveness to review documents and connections he might overlook.

Crettan finished the thought —“I don’t like bringing civilians into this kind of thing,” he finally admitted —“But I also don’t like the idea of ​​you facing this alone.”-

The photographer nodded. “Okay, Steve. I’ll work for you.”

The man gave him one last warning – “But from now on, you follow my rules. Understood?”

Diana gave a tight smile and nodded. “Understood, Detective.”

After a few days, Diana had been reviewing documents trying to find any possible former Cyclops employees willing to cooperate. She leaned over the screen as she said to the detective:

—“Steve, there’s a name here that keeps coming up in several reports: Dr. Evelyn Holsword. She appears to be working on the Olympia Space Station, in the power control center.”

Crettan nodded. “All right. Time to take a trip.”

Dr. Holsword wasn't happy to receive them. Her office at Olympia Station was functional, with multiple screens displaying constantly fluctuating power readings.

"I have nothing to say about Forsyth," he said, without looking at them . "He's been dead for about five years. End of story."

Crettan placed the photograph Leclerc had taken on his desk as he explained the discovery of the unfortunate doctor's body near the space station. Holsword paled.

—“If he died five years ago in deep space, why was his body found a few meters from the space station just a few days ago? Explain that to me.”

The scientist drummed her fingers on the table.

—“I’m afraid that if anyone were to talk too much, their life could be in danger.”

—“It already is,” Diana said . “And ours too, if this is as big as it looks.”

Holsword closed his eyes for a moment, then exhaled and whispered:

—“Forsyth wanted teleportation to be used solely for civilian purposes, but the Cyclops Board had very different plans. They wanted to sell the technology to the Unified World Government for military purposes and colonial expansion.”

Crettan leaned toward her as he asked, “But the deal was financed by Cyclops. Why was Forsyth’s opposition a problem?”

-“Because Forsyth owned the teleportation technology. And while Cyclops financed it, Forsyth contractually had the final say on the technology’s use.”

The detective wanted to dig deeper. He asked, “So…”

-“In the event of death, full ownership of the project would pass to the corporation.”- He paused –“The Argos disaster was very convenient for the Cyclops Board of Directors.”-

Crettan pressed on— “Did the experiment work?”

Holsword gulped.

—“Partially, because there were problems. Some subjects didn’t arrive complete. Others… simply disappeared. Forsyth believed he could perfect it. By the time the Argos traveled, it was an open secret that teleportation was ready to operate. Then the Argos began its journey, disappeared, and the entire thing was officially covered up by saying teleportation was abandoned. But I think it was all a lie.”

Leclerc and Crettan were expectant. Steve asked , "What was that lie?"

Evelyn Holsword lowered her voice. “The Argos arrived at its destination, and the project continued at the Mars base, with everyone: crew and researchers. On Earth, Cyclops has been selling the technology to the government for five years.”

Diana took the photograph again. “If Forsyth disappeared five years ago, how is he floating in space now?”

Holsword looked at them in despair. “I think they killed him right at the start of the journey. That’s why Cyclops started selling the technology. They got him out of the way so they could take control.”

 Crettan spoke his mind. “If it was liquidated near Earth and launched into space, it may have been trapped orbiting near Olympia. And you photographed it purely by chance.”

The cylindrical elevator descended slowly from the fifth level of the Olympia Space Station. Through the reinforced glass walls, space, dotted with distant stars, could be seen. Inside, Steve Crettan and Diana Lecrerc remained silent for a few moments, each thinking about what they had just heard from Dr. Evelyn Holsword.

Diana crossed her arms, leaning against the elevator wall, as she watched the dim blue lighting of the control panel.

—“It wasn’t an accident,” he finally said with conviction, breaking the silence . “Everything Holsword said… if Forsyth wanted teleportation to be used for civilian society, and Cyclops wanted to militarize it, then someone had a very clear motive to get rid of him.”

Crettan nodded slowly, putting his hands in the pockets of his trench coat.

—“And not just him,” he replied. “Remember what he told us: not all the team members traveled on that expedition. Some stayed on Earth… like Van Houden, and it’s possible that others disappeared under unclear circumstances.”

Diana turned her head to look at him.

"Sabotage…" the photographer whispered softly. "How do you think it happened, Steve?"

The detective exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly.

—“I believe Forsyth and perhaps some others from his team disappeared during an extravehicular sortie. Officially, the Argos ship stopped communicating and a catastrophe was assumed. But I'm inclined to believe that our doctor's death opened the door for Cyclops, who arranged for the Argos to secretly arrive on Mars and leave the team there to begin selling the teleportation service to the government under a top-secret contract. The Argos is probably still there, on Mars, or it secretly arrived on Earth and was decommissioned.”

Diana asked , “Why do you think the Argos came back to be decommissioned? Isn’t it better to leave it on Mars?”

"Because the Argos crew was a lot of people: pilots, engineers, support staff, waiters, flight attendants, cooks, and stewards. The disappearance of all those people would have been a nightmare. They probably came back and had their mouths sealed with a confidentiality agreement. Cyclops is very powerful and could easily do it."

Diana nodded. “That is, there are several witnesses who could be on Earth, hidden among the crowd.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in affirmation. “Exactly. And for a Homeland Security agent, with access to every country’s databases, it will be a matter of time before he can identify one or more members of the Argos crew who embarked on the voyage to Mars.”

The elevator vibrated slightly as it reached the third level. Diana narrowed her eyes, as if mentally putting the puzzle pieces together.

—“If it was sabotage, someone on the ship must have done it. You can’t manipulate a spacesuit or an anchor system from Earth.”

—“Exactly,” Crettan stated . “Which means either someone on Forsyth’s team betrayed them, or someone on the mission had orders to eliminate them.”

Diana drummed her fingers on her arm.

—“The question is… who? And above all, why now, after all these years, does Forsyth appear in a photograph of me, floating in space?”

“Simple physics, Diana. He was eliminated hastily and extremely close to Earth. His body was left orbiting near the space station. The fact that he was photographed by your high-resolution camera while taking that shot through the viewport was a huge fluke. There’s very little chance his body was ever located or recovered.” The detective paused . “With all this commotion… it’s likely someone is making sure   we never find his body.”   Crettan paused again, as if thinking to himself , “There are probably Cyclops teams trying to locate him besides us. Without a body, you’re just a lunatic with a faulty camera.”

The elevator beeped softly as it reached the second level. They were headed to the Cairo Hotel where the couple was staying. The doors slid open with a soft whir, but neither of them moved immediately.

Diana took a deep breath as she waited for the doors to finish opening. What they found on the other side of the doors made them freeze for a split second.

Two figures dressed in black, with balaclavas hiding their faces, were waiting for them with their pistols ready to fire.

"Shit!" was all Crettan managed to say. Instinct took over. He lunged at Diana, violently shoving her to the floor inside the elevator. "Look out!" he shouted, covering her with his body before gunfire erupted in the air.

The bullets whizzed through the air. One of them hit the metal wall of the elevator. Crettan felt a burning pain on his right side. It had grazed him, ripping his jacket and leaving a burning gash in his skin. He didn't stop to check the wound.

The other impact hit near the control panel, causing a sputtering of sparks.

Steve rolled onto his side and pulled out his pistol in one fluid motion as he pulled the trigger.

One. Two. Three. Four quick shots.

One of the attackers grunted and staggered back, clutching his bloody shoulder. The other, seeing the ambush had failed, grabbed his companion, and the two ran down the corridor. The echoes of their footsteps began to fade in the distance.

Crettan sat up quickly, panting, as he watched them disappear around a corner. “Damn it!” he growled.

Diana turned on the floor, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, checking her body for any injuries. He extended a hand to her.

Diana took it and jumped to her feet.

—“You’re the one who’s bleeding!”

Crettan looked at his side. His shirt was stained red, but the wound was superficial.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, his jaw clenched.

Diana looked down the empty hallway, still gasping for air.

—“They were waiting for us… they knew we would come down here.”-

Crettan ran his hand over his wounded side and frowned.

—“This confirms that we are bothering the wrong people.”-

Diana swallowed, but there was more than fear in her eyes: she was furious.

—“Then we’ll keep bothering you.”

Crettan smiled sideways, though the tension didn't leave his expression.

“I hope so,” he said, reloading his pistol as his eyes scanned the hallway . “But first, let’s find out who the hell wants us dead.”

The elevator was still open behind them, the flickering light illuminating the chaos. Crettan gestured to Diana.

—“Come on, we have to get out of here before they try another attack.”

Crettan cautiously peeked through the elevator door, pistol still in hand. His eyes scanned every corner of the hallway. Nothing.  He waited a couple more seconds, making sure there wasn't a second ambush. Then he looked around for Diana.

The woman was still huddled in the corner, leaning against the metal walls of the elevator. Her breathing was uneven, her eyes wide open, fixed on some invisible point beyond Crettan. Belatedly, she was going into shock.

—“Diana…” Steve murmured softly, leaning over her.

He didn't react.

—“Diana,” he repeated more firmly.

He approached and gently took her face in his hands. Her pupils were dilated by adrenaline. Her skin was cold.

“You’re safe,” he whispered.

Diana blinked, coming back to her senses.

—“They… they shot at us…”— he murmured in a trembling voice.

—“Yes, but they’re gone now. Now take a deep breath,” he said, making sure his tone was calm and controlled.

Diana inhaled sharply and let it out in a shaky exhalation. Crettan leaned closer and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

—“I got you,” he assured —“You’re okay.”-

Diana looked into his eyes and nodded slowly.

—“Come on, let’s get out of here.”-

Diana followed him, although her legs were shaking a little.

 

Chapter 3: Attack on Olympia 

They had barely stepped off the elevator when the sound of hurried footsteps and metallic boots echoed down the hallway. A group of five security officers from the Olympia space station quickly approached, armed and alert.

The leader of the group, a heavily built man with a badge on his chest that read “Sgt. Keller ,” raised his hand, ordering his team to stop a few feet from Crettan and Diana.

"What the hell happened here?" he asked in a harsh voice.

Crettan raised his hands in a sign of cooperation.

"Steve Crettan, National Security Agency detective," he said, calmly taking out his ID and showing it to the sergeant. "We're on official business."

Keller gave her a quick once-over before looking back at her with a questioning expression.

—“We received a report of gunfire in this area. Are you responsible?”

—“We weren’t responsible. We were the victims. Two gunmen ambushed us just as we got off the elevator,” Crettan explained . “They fired on us without warning. I returned fire in self-defense.”

Keller looked at Diana, who was still breathing with some difficulty.

—“Are you hurt?”-

—“No, but he had a bad time,” Crettan replied, diverting his attention from his own scratch . “One of the attackers was wounded in the shoulder before fleeing.”

The sergeant nodded and turned to his officers.

—“Check the security cameras, block off access to the third level, and search for any traces of blood. They shouldn't be far away.”

The officers immediately dispersed. Keller turned his attention to Crettan.

—“Do you have any idea who might have tried to kill them?”-

Crettan crossed his arms and looked around, as if the shadows might hide even more dangers.

—“They’re not common criminals. We believe they’re hired hitmen.”

Keller cursed and activated his communicator.

—“This is Keller. Code red in the hospitality sector. Possible armed attackers on the run. They’re dangerous and experienced. Patrols on high alert.”

The message was received instantly, followed by affirmative responses from several security units at the station.

Crettan looked at Diana, who now seemed more recovered.

Keller gave them a firm look. “We’ll do our job, detectives. But be sure to stay away from the crowds until we catch you.”

Crettan smiled sideways, but without humor.

"That's what we'll do, Sergeant. Believe me, we will."

When Crettan and Leclerc arrived at the Cairo Hotel , the detective wasted no time. He immediately headed to the reception desk, where a receptionist android greeted them with his usual neutral voice and precise manner.

—“Welcome to the Cairo Hotel . How may I assist you?”

Crettan slid his National Security Agency badge across the counter.

—“I need an immediate room change. Cancel the two separate reservations and assign a single room. I want a secure apartment with no exterior windows and restricted access.”

The android blinked a couple of times as it processed the command.

—“Proceeding with the change. Room 732, East Wing. Biometric access enabled only for the two registered guests.”

-"Perfect."-

Diana, at his side, crossed her arms with an inquisitive expression.

—“Just one room?”-

The detective took the access cards the android handed him and started walking toward the elevator, without waiting for a response. Diana snorted and followed him.

—“Steve?”-

As they entered the elevator, Crettan turned to her.

—“They just tried to wipe us out in a well-planned attack. I want to keep you close so they don’t try it again without me.”

Diana looked at him cynically. “Are you telling me we’re going to sleep together?”

—“I’m telling you I’m going to protect you 24 hours a day,” he corrected. “And it’s easier to do if you’re not in a separate room across the hall.”

The elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened. They walked down a quiet hallway to room 732. Crettan swiped the card and the door opened with a soft click .

Inside, the suite was spacious, with a panoramic view of the space station's outer dome and the dark cosmos beyond. But, as Crettan had requested, the windows were covered by security shielding.

Diana dropped her bag on a sofa and turned to him.

—“Let me see that wound.”-

-"It's no big deal."-

—“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Crettan. If you’re going to share a room with me, at least let me do my work.”

The detective sighed, but took off his jacket, revealing a scratch on his right side. The bullet had grazed him, but the cut was deep enough to require attention.

Diana went to the bathroom medicine cabinet and returned with a bottle of disinfectant and bandages. She sat down across from him and, with steady hands, soaked a piece of cotton with the liquid.

—“This is going to burn.”-

—“I’m used to it. Just do it.”

Diana pressed the cotton against the wound and Crettan gritted his teeth.

"Don't complain, big guy," she murmured with a slight smile.

When she finished bandaging him, she looked at him seriously.

—“Now are you going to tell me what’s next?”

Crettan stood up and buttoned his shirt.

—“We need to go to the station’s Security Center. I need the surveillance footage to identify those bastards before they try anything else.”

Diana crossed her arms.

—“And you think they’re just going to give us the recordings?”-

The detective smiled sideways.

—“If I ask nicely… probably not.”-

-"So…"-

—“That’s why we’ll have a plan B.”-

Diana stared at him, and for the first time since the attack, a spark of emotion crossed her eyes.

—“You know, Crettan… I have a feeling this is going to be a long night.”-

—“Very long,” he agreed.

They stood up and headed for the door. Outside, the immense Olympia space station continued to spin in the void of space, oblivious to the danger lurking in its corridors.

The atmosphere inside the Security Center was tense, silent, and efficient. High-resolution screens covered the walls, displaying different sections of the station in real time. Technicians and security officers moved around, monitoring activities and handling minor incidents.

Crettan pushed his way through the staff, followed closely by Diana, to the office of the Head of Security , a robust man in his fifties with an immaculate uniform and a sour expression.

“ Detective Crettan, National Security Agency,” the detective said authoritatively, throwing his badge onto the desk.

The head of security, identified on his badge as Gregory Vance , looked back coldly before taking the badge and checking it.

—“What’s so urgent that you have to come here in the middle of the night, detective?”-

—“They tried to kill us as we arrived at the Cairo Hotel , right outside the second-level elevator,” Crettan replied, crossing his arms . “I need access to the security footage. Now.”

Vance snorted and dropped the badge on the table.

—“Recordings are not available without an official order. Station procedures.”

Crettan leaned across the desk, fixing his eyes on the man.

—“Look, Vance. I don’t have time for paperwork. Two guys with guns tried to blow our brains out, and the last thing you need is a Homeland Security officer writing a report on how this station’s management obstructed an attempted murder investigation. I have the authority to prosecute you as an accessory. And I can do it right now.”

Vance clenched his jaw. He knew Crettan wasn't joking. He snorted and typed something on his console.

—“Very well, but you’ll see the recordings here. No copies or external downloads.”

—“Whatever, just show us the recordings.”-

Vance turned his screen and began to rewind the cameras' timeline.

After a couple of hours of meticulously trawling through the video files, Diana suddenly pointed at the screen.

—“That’s them!”— he said, fast-forwarding the video.

In the footage, two men were seen on one of the station's technical decks. They were wearing dark clothing and carrying backpacks over their shoulders. At one point, they both stopped and took balaclavas out of their pockets, putting them on before leaving the camera frame.

Crettan clicked his tongue.

—“Damn angle. We don’t have a clear shot of their faces.”

Diana, who had been in the photography world for years, leaned toward the screen with a frown.

—“Not necessarily. If we adjust the image with the station’s AI, we could improve the clarity and perhaps get an alternative angle using reflections off nearby surfaces.”

Vance nodded and pressed a button on his panel.

—“We have a fairly advanced image analysis system. I’ll run it through the visual reconstruction AI. Give me a minute, officer.”

The software went to work, analyzing the visual data and reconstructing perspectives from the reflections on the metal of the corridor and the lenses of the security cameras.

Within minutes, the screen displayed two enhanced images with the attackers' reconstructed faces. Although the AI ​​couldn't create a perfect reconstruction, the images were sharp enough to recognize key features.

—“Here you have them, agent,” Vance said, turning the screen toward Crettan . “Do they sound familiar?”

Crettan pulled out his communicator and transmitted the images directly to Homeland Security headquarters .

—“Give me five minutes,” he replied with a satisfied smile . “Let’s see who these bastards are.”

Diana, still watching the screen, muttered to herself:

—“This is getting more and more interesting…”-

After a couple of minutes, Crettan's communicator buzzed with an urgent notification. He took the device out of his pocket and read the coded message from Homeland Security on Earth . He said:

"They've been identified. The suspects are Cyclops employees. They're listed as drivers for the executives." Crettan frowned.

Diana, sitting next to him, leaned over to look at the screen.

—“Cyclops? Again?”-

—“Yes. It seems like every clue leads back to them. And it’s no coincidence.”

Before he could fully process the information, the communicator buzzed again with another message. Steve read it aloud: " Suspects captured in the Olympia departure bay. Attempting to board a transport ship bound for Lunar Europa."

Crettan smiled with a flash of satisfaction.

—“Well, we have them.”-

Diana exhaled in relief.

—“That means we can interrogate them… right?”-

But Crettan's expression hardened as he received another message. He turned to Leclerc: " They cannot be questioned. Cyclops's lawyers have already intervened in their defense." He slammed his fist on the desk. "Damn it!"

Vance, the station's security chief, who was still with them in the surveillance room, raised an eyebrow.

—“Do you already have lawyers?”-

Crettan shot him a frustrated look. He replied, “It hasn’t even been ten minutes since they caught you. How the hell did you get representation so quickly?”

Vance snorted and crossed his arms.

—“Here in Olympia, large corporations have legal teams ready to intervene as soon as one of their employees gets into trouble. It’s not uncommon. They have a lot of influence at the station.”

Diana shook her head, feeling anger rise in her throat.

—“This only confirms that Cyclops is behind it all. They tried to kill us, and now they’re protecting them.”

Crettan gritted his teeth.

—“It doesn’t matter how many lawyers they have. We’ll make them talk… one way or another.”

Vance sighed and took an e-cigarette out of his pocket.

—“I’ll give you some free advice. If you want answers, you won’t find them in an interrogation room. You need to find someone inside Cyclops who’s willing to talk… or make them talk.”

Crettan and Diana exchanged a look.

—“In that case,” said the detective , “I think it’s time to put pressure on the bigwigs.”

Diana nodded with a tense smile. “We’ll have to go after them.”

The Cairo Hotel room was dimly lit by the lights from the Olympia space station, filtering through the metal blinds. Steve Crettan checked his communicator for the umpteenth time while Diana Leclerc, sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplated the reflection of the space city in the window.

"Don't worry," Steve said, still staring at the screen . "It's unlikely they'll attempt another attack tonight. We're already in the custody of station security."

Diana exhaled slowly.

—“I don’t know if that reassures me or worries me more.”-

Steve put his communicator on the nightstand and took off his jacket.

—“I understand. But if Cyclops moved his pawns so quickly, it means they see us as a real threat. And that also means we’re close to something big.”

There was a knock at the door. Steve reflexively drew his weapon, but relaxed when he saw the room service notification on his communicator.

—“It’s dinner.”-

Diana forced a smile.

—“At least we won’t die of hunger today.”

After making sure the food had no unpleasant surprises, they ate in silence. Diana nibbled at her salad, while Steve, focused, took a sip of whiskey.

—“There’s something bothering me,” Diana said suddenly . “Evelyn Holsword mentioned that members of the Argos expedition are on Mars, at a secret base.”

Steve nodded.

—“Yes. That means the Argos may have reached its destination and never returned.”

Diana put down her fork and looked at him intensely.

—“But what happened to the rest of the crew? Pilots, flight attendants, maintenance engineers… Did they make it back? Or are they trapped there too?”

Steve leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his chin.

—“That’s the key question. If Cyclops hid the existence of a secret base on Mars, what else have they hidden?”

Diana shuddered. “We’ll have to find out if Argos ever returned to Earth. If it was decommissioned, and most importantly, if any of the crew returned and is still on Earth.”

Steve looked at her, nodding at her logic. “That’s a good point. If there are witnesses here or on Earth, we need to find them before Cyclops makes them disappear.”

The silence between them stretched, full of implications.

"We can look into that tomorrow," Steve finally said, setting his glass down on the table. "Now we should get some rest."

He got up and turned off the light. They both got ready for bed.

Diana settled into her bed, but in the dim light, her mind raced over everything they'd discovered. The station's security, the secret base on Mars, the assassination attempt… She felt vulnerable.

After several minutes, she quietly slipped out of her bed and stood next to Steve's. He turned, surprised to feel her close. Diana was wearing a sheer nightgown, which showed off the beautiful curves of her body and showed off the delicate lines of her underwear.

—“Diana?” the man said.

She didn't say anything, just crawled into Steve's bed. She settled in next to him, seeking warmth and security. Steve instinctively hugged her, wrapping his arm around her.

"Only tonight," she whispered as she pressed herself against his body.

Steve didn't respond, but held her firmly as he kissed her slowly. The woman kissed him back.

After making love, Diana closed her eyes, feeling safe and protected. And, for the first time in days, she slept peacefully.

 

Chapter 4: Shadows in Kamra

Crettan and Leclerc's return trip to Earth was tense but uneventful. The atmosphere on the transport ship was different from that of Olympia Station; the station's artificial gravity had vanished, and the familiarity of Earth felt almost strange after a few days floating in the vacuum of space.

Upon landing in Copenhagen, Steve and Diana headed straight for the offices of National Security Headquarters . The building, a steel and glass structure overlooking the Øresund Strait, housed some of the most brilliant analysts on the planet.

Steve leaned against the desk of his contact, Agent Jørgen Halstrom , a man in his fifties with a face weathered by years of counterintelligence work.

—“We need access to the Argos crew database , ” he said bluntly.

Halstrom raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

—“Good morning to you too, Crettan. Do you know how difficult it is to access that kind of classified information?”

—“I know if anyone can do it, it’s you,” Steve replied with a cynical smile.

Diana, who had remained silent until now, intervened:

—“It’s not just about the crew. We also need to track the ship’s components. There are spare parts records that can give us clues about what really happened to the Argos .”

Halstrom sighed and turned back to his console.

—“Fine, but if anyone comes to ask us questions, this never happened here.”

With a few commands on the console, the agent accessed the Argos ' classified file . Diana and Steve leaned over the screen.

The crew members' names scrolled across the screen. The list included pilots, technicians, flight attendants, and mission specialists. Next to each name, a brief note described their fate after the ship's disappearance.

Steve frowned.

—“Some were relocated to different parts of the world… and others are listed as having died in accidents.”

Diana pointed to a name on the list.

—“Look at this. Arthur Mendel , propulsion engineer. Officially, he died in a car accident in Berlin, but the death certificate has no details.”

Halstrom typed quickly.

—“Mendel was never buried. Nor did his family receive his body. Officially, he disappeared.”

Steve looked at Diana.

—“That means he could be alive… and relocated. And if he is, we must find him.”

Diana nodded, her eyes lighting up at the possibility of a new lead.

As Halstrom continued his search, Steve turned to another analyst, Natalie Berg , an aerospace logistics expert.

—“Natalie, can you trace the serial numbers of the Argos ’ main spare parts ?”

The woman adjusted her glasses and began working at her console.

—“Give me a few minutes…”-

The silence in the room grew tense as the data was processed. Finally, a series of files appeared on the screen.

—“Here it is,” Natalie said . “Many serial numbers and part numbers from the Argos were not destroyed, but reused on other cargo and exploration spacecraft.”

Diana frowned.

—“That means the Argos wasn’t lost in space… nor was it completely destroyed as was reported.”

Steve reviewed the list of ships where the spares had been used.

“Some of these ships have been on Mars in recent years. Could it be that…?”

Natalie nodded.

—“Yes. It’s possible that certain pieces of the Argos ended up in Martian installations. Perhaps even in the secret base Holsword told you about.”

Diana turned to Steve.

—“That confirms our suspicions. The Argos was never lost… it just returned to Earth, dismantled, and its parts reused in the shadows.”

Halstrom turned off the screen and crossed his arms.

—“If they’ve made it this far, it means Cyclops and those covering for him have gone to great lengths to cover their tracks. It won’t be easy to move forward unnoticed.”

Steve shrugged.

—“They already tried to kill us once in Olympia. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Halstrom sighed.

—“Crettan, you always say that before things blow up in your face.”-

Diana gave a tight smile.

—“Then we’ll have to make sure the explosion is on the right side.”

Halstrom shook his head and handed them a flash drive.

—“Here’s all the information I’ve got. But if anyone asks, they don’t know me.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder.

—“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, Jørgen.”-

With memory in hand and new leads to follow, Steve and Diana knew their investigation was about to get even more dangerous.

Crettan's office was lit only by the light from the screens as Steve and Diana frantically searched the files for clues. The sound of incessant typing was interrupted when the door opened and Jørgen Halstrom, with his usual serious expression, entered with an envelope in his hand.

“We have something,” he announced to the duo, throwing the envelope onto the desk.

Crettan took it and opened it cautiously. Inside, a document detailed information about Arthur Mendel , who had vanished without a trace. Halstrom had now been able to locate him, relocated under the name Azim Rahman in Pakistan, within the Unified World Government's witness protection program.

"He works at the Pakistan Aeronautical Complex," Halstrom continued, crossing his arms . "It's one of the main military aircraft factories in Kamra. It seems his identity change wasn't just a precaution... but something much deeper."

Diana took the documents and examined them carefully.

"If Rahman is really Mendel, it means one of the Argos crew members is still alive," she said, incredulous.

Crettan nodded.

—“I don’t think I’m the only one. And that raises a much more disturbing question: why make those involved in the original teleportation project disappear?”

Halstrom sighed and looked at them seriously.

—“If he's in witness protection, it means someone very high up wants him hidden. And if he's in Pakistan, inside one of its major aerospace facilities, then the implication could reach the highest echelons of the Ministry of Security. At Cyclops's expense .”

A tense silence settled in the room.

Diana put the documents on the table and looked at Crettan.

—“We have to go to Pakistan.”-

Halstrom shook his head and leaned across the desk.

—“Listen carefully, both of you. This isn’t a simple interrogation. If Cyclops or the Unified World Government are involved, there are high-level figures working in the shadows who won’t hesitate to eliminate you if you get too close. Be very careful!”

Crettan closed the envelope and slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

—“We always have it, Halstrom. But sometimes, to get the truth, you have to risk something.”

Diana and Steve prepared for their trip to Kamra City, Pakistan.

They knew they couldn't land at Minhas Airbase without special authorization. Therefore, they obtained a National Security pass to secure their access. Three National Security agents accompanied them, as they had an official order to transport witness Azim Rahman to Copenhagen.

After a long and tense flight, they landed at Minhas Airbase and were greeted by local officials who escorted them to the Pakistan Aeronautical Complex (PAC). There, after a rigorous review of their credentials and clearances, they requested a meeting with Azim Rahman.

The meeting wasn't immediate. For several hours, PAC authorities delayed the witness's presentation. Steve, impatient, approached the officer in charge.

"Sir, we've traveled thousands of miles on official orders. We need to speak with Rahman immediately," Steve demanded firmly.

The officer, a man with a stern look and impeccable uniform, looked at him without flinching.

—“Mr. Crettan, we understand the urgency, but Mr. Rahman is a key employee at our facility. We cannot allow an interview without due caution.”

—“The due precaution is already in our official order,” Diana intervened, showing the document sealed by Homeland Security.

Finally, after much insistence, Rahman was led into a conference room. He was a middle-aged man, with a nervous expression  and an air of resignation. He sat across from Diana and Steve, folding his hands on the metal table.

“Did you know we were coming?” Steve asked, watching Rahman avoid eye contact.

—“I always imagined it could happen,” he replied in a low, trembling voice . “This matter has always haunted me.”

—“Tell us about the Argos,” Diana insisted . “We know you worked for Cyclops when she disappeared.”

Rahman sighed and leaned forward.

—“When the Argos took off for Mars, we were part of an experimental project. We were informed that Dr. Alan Forsyth would be making an adjustment to the transmitting antenna to complete certain teleportation experiments. He went out to perform the task... and died on the excursion.”

—“Accidental death or sabotage?”— Steve pressed.

“We all suspect sabotage,” Rahman said, lowering his voice . “It went from being a civilian project to a military one almost immediately. But we never had any proof. Shortly after, Argos cut off all communications with Earth. We were offered substantial bonuses to continue the project and kept working on Mars for two years, with no outside connection.”

Diana and Steve exchanged a look. This confirmed their worst suspicions.

—“When the two years were up, some of us negotiated our release. They offered us a bonus and a change of identity. But there was one condition: we signed a confidentiality agreement. If anyone spoke,  the new identity would be revoked and we would be in danger.”

—“Who was running the project after Cyclops lost control?”— Diana asked.

Rahman shook his head.

—“I don’t know that. I only know that we were ordered to forget what we saw and move on with our new lives.”

Steve leaned back in his chair and exhaled in frustration.

—“We’ll have to get him out of here, Rahman. He’s not safe anymore.”

Rahman looked at them with a mixture of fear and relief. He knew his time in Kamra was over. But what Diana and Steve didn't yet know was how many more people were willing to keep this secret at all costs.

Dawn in Kamra brought with it a sense of impending danger.

Steve Crettan and Diana Leclerc, along with three Homeland Security agents, were escorting Azim Rahman to Minhas Airbase for boarding to Copenhagen. The atmosphere was tense; Rahman, his face pale and his forehead beaded with sweat, barely looked up from the ground.

"They won't let me leave Pakistan alive," Rahman muttered, looking nervously out the car window.

—“If they wanted to kill you, they would have tried before,” Steve replied calmly . “Right now, you’re more valuable alive.”

A couple of cars made up the convoy, moving along the secondary road leading to the air base. Suddenly, the squeal of tires and the roar of an engine revving alerted Crettan.

A black SUV burst onto the road, blocking their path. Before the officers could react, two masked men emerged from the vehicle, brandishing automatic pistols, and opened fire mercilessly.

The two vehicles with agents and witness stopped.

“Take cover!” Crettan shouted as he pushed Diana and Rahman onto the rear seat cover.

The bullets hit the vehicle's armored body, ricocheting loudly. One of the security officers, in the escort vehicle, was shot in the shoulder.

“Damn it!” roared one of the officers as he returned fire with his assault rifle.

Crettan didn't have time to hesitate. He opened the vehicle door, slipped out with his gun drawn, and accurately shot one of the attackers in the chest. The hitman fell backward, his weapon slipping out of reach.

The second attacker tried to take cover behind the SUV, but one of the officers shot him down with a well-aimed burst. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of Diana's labored breathing and the groans of the wounded officer.

—“We have to move!” Crettan ordered, dragging Rahman back into the vehicle . “If there are more, they’ll come soon.”

They loaded the wounded man into the second vehicle and continued on.

They arrived at Minhas Air Base under heightened security. Within minutes, the team boarded the plane bound for Copenhagen. During the flight, Rahman remained silent, staring off into the distance.

Already in Copenhagen, Rahman testified before the International Security Court. His statement triggered a political earthquake: the Cyclops Directorate was formally accused of ordering the execution of Dr. Alan Forsyth to secure the signing of his contract with the Ministry of Defense.

The relocated witnesses, upon seeing the giant's fall, broke their silence. The evidence was overwhelming: Cyclops had manipulated the Argos's disappearance, silenced dissidents, and sealed a lucrative deal with the military.

The trial lasted for months. As testimony piled up, Cyclops's public image crumbled. Key executives were arrested, the Minister of Defense resigned amid the scandal, and the truth about the secret teleportation and Forsyth's death was exposed.

Days after the verdict, Crettan and Diana sat in a cafe in Nyhavn. Fog drifted over the canal, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air.

—“So that was that,” Diana said, stirring her cup thoughtfully . “Justice was done.”

“Partly,” Steve replied, leaning back in his chair . “Forsyth is still dead. And his body hasn’t been recovered. Those who survived lived in the shadows for years. But at least the truth is out.”

Diana looked at him silently for a moment, then smiled subtly.

—“You don’t seem very satisfied.”

—“There are still many unanswered questions. And they never will be,” Crettan admitted.

Silence fell between them. Diana looked at her coffee cup and then at Steve.

—“So what now?”— he asked vaguely, without referring strictly to the case.

Steve watched her for a few seconds before smiling slightly and shrugging.

—“I guess we’ll find out in time.”-

Diana nodded, and without another word, raised her cup in a silent toast. The story was closed… for now. She felt safe. And she knew she was protected.

END