Shadows of Deception

The Ghosts of Cairo

The hum of the jet engines was a low, constant vibration beneath Ethan’s feet as he stared out into the abyss of the night sky. The private plane cut through the darkness, heading toward a past he had long tried to forget—Cairo.

Izzy sat across from him, studying his face. “You’re quiet.”

Ethan let out a slow breath, fingers tapping absently against his thigh. “I don’t like revisiting old ghosts.”

Sarah, seated near the cockpit, didn’t bother looking up from her tablet. “Well, your ghosts are the only lead we have right now.” She tapped the screen, pulling up classified files. “Everything about Kane’s early experiments points back to Cairo. And you were there.”

Ethan shifted his gaze to the screen. A grainy, black-and-white image showed a facility—one he recognized all too well. “That’s the Helios Re

Aamir slid a keycard across the table. “This will get you inside. But be careful, Blackwood. Some ghosts don’t stay dead.”

The ruins of Al-Khalid were eerily silent. Once a military outpost, it had been abandoned for years. Now, it was just crumbling stone and forgotten history.

Ethan moved ahead, scanning the area. “There should be an entrance nearby.”

Izzy pointed to a rusted hatch, half-buried in debris. “That looks promising.”

Sarah pulled her gun. “I don’t like this.”

Ethan swiped the keycard. The hatch hissed open, revealing a set of stairs leading into darkness.

As they descended, the air grew colder, the walls lined with old wiring and rusted panels. Faint flickering lights illuminated the underground hallway.

Izzy swallowed. “This place is still running.”

Ethan stopped in front of a reinforced door. His fingers hovered over the keypad, muscle memory kicking in. He typed in a code. The door slid open.

Inside, monitors flickered with old data. A single chair sat in the center of the room, restraints still attached. And on the wall, a screen displayed a name.

Ethan Blackwood – Test Subject 17

Izzy gasped. “Oh my God.”

Ethan’s blood ran cold. He staggered forward, hands shaking as fragmented memories surged back.

Pain. Voices. Kane standing over him.

“Let’s see how well he forgets.”

Sarah grabbed his arm. “Ethan, talk to me.”

His head pounded. Images—flashes of a past he wasn’t supposed to remember.

And then, a voice crackled through the speakers.

“Well, well. I was wondering when you’d come home.”

The blood drained from Ethan’s face.

It was Kane.

And he had been waiting for him.