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Chapter 3: Exit Strategy

  ### Chapter 3: Exit Strategy

  ---

  #### Frankfurt, Germany – 11:45 PM

  Leon Graves sat at his desk, his movements precise and methodical. In front of him lay several passports, each tied to a different identity. He sifted through them until he found the one that fit this situation best:

  **Alexander Roth – German business consultant.**

  A man who frequently traveled for corporate meetings. A man with no reason to be under suspicion.

  Frankfurt was no longer safe. With the chairman of Langley Industries dead, security had tightened across the city. The authorities were searching for anomalies, piecing together fragments of information. But Leon wouldn’t leave them anything to find.

  By the time they started asking the right questions, he would be gone—heading to Paris.

  ---

  #### The Transformation

  Leon moved to the bathroom, staring at his reflection. His blue eyes—sharp, distinct—were too recognizable.

  He retrieved a pair of brown contact lenses, carefully placing them in. His gaze shifted from piercing to neutral, from memorable to forgettable.

  Next, he picked up rimless glasses—subtle, professional. Combined with a slight change in posture, they altered his facial structure just enough to fool casual recognition. His dark hair, naturally a mix of brown and black, was adjusted slightly, styled in a more businesslike manner.

  This wasn’t just an escape—it was a transition. He wasn’t running; he was Alexander Roth, a businessman concluding his affairs in Frankfurt.

  ---

  #### Final Preparations

  Back at his desk, Leon selected the corresponding ID and bank cards for his new identity. His movements remained calm, deliberate.

  His duffel bag was already packed:

  - A tailored yet understated business suit

  - Casual wear for travel

  - A new phone, separate from his real operations

  - Extra cash, enough to move without restrictions

  - A concealed weapon, strategically placed to avoid suspicion

  He pulled a sleek, black pendrive from his pocket—the key to the secure web platform. Plugging it into his laptop, he accessed the site, confirming there were no pending messages or complications.

  Satisfied, he removed the pendrive and placed it securely in an inner pocket. No need to wipe the laptop—without the drive, there was nothing on it.

  ---

  #### The Road to the Airport

  Leon drove with controlled precision, keeping his speed steady. The city was still alive, but the tension was palpable. The assassination of a corporate giant had rattled Frankfurt, and law enforcement was on high alert.

  As he neared the highway exit leading to the airport, his eyes flicked to the road ahead. Checkpoint.

  Several police officers were stopping vehicles at random, shining flashlights into car interiors, checking IDs.

  Leon’s grip on the steering wheel remained relaxed, but his mind calculated every possible outcome. If they checked his trunk, they’d find nothing suspicious. His passport and identity were clean. But if they looked too closely—if one officer became too observant—things could escalate.

  He slowly pulled up to the checkpoint. A uniformed officer stepped to his window.

  “Guten Abend, sir. Routine check. May I see your identification?”

  Leon retrieved his passport from the glove compartment, handing it over without hesitation. His expression was neutral, mildly impatient, as any businessman running late for a flight would be.

  The officer scanned the passport, glancing at Leon’s face. The glasses, the changed eye color—it was all in place.

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  “What’s the purpose of your travel, Herr Roth?”

  Leon gave a polite but firm response. “Business. I had meetings in Frankfurt. I’m flying to Paris tonight.”

  The officer nodded, seemingly satisfied. He gestured to a second officer standing nearby.

  "Pop the trunk, please."

  Leon’s pulse remained steady. He pressed the release button, allowing the trunk to open. Inside, his neatly packed luggage sat in plain sight—exactly what a businessman would carry.

  The officer checked quickly, then closed the trunk.

  “You may go, sir. Safe travels.”

  Leon nodded, retrieving his passport and driving forward without haste.

  The checkpoint faded in his rearview mirror.

  The airport was just ahead.

  By sunrise, he would be in Paris.

  A ghost once more.

  ---

  #### Arrival in Paris

  Leon arrived in Paris, blending seamlessly into the bustling city. He hailed a taxi and directed the driver to an internet café, one of the many scattered across the city. His demeanor was calm and professional, just another traveler concluding business.

  At the internet café, Leon took a seat at a computer terminal. He plugged in his pendrive, accessing the secure web platform to check if the money transfer had been completed. To his dismay, there was no record of the transfer.

  Suddenly, a message popped up on the screen:

  **"Available?"**

  Leon typed a single word in response:

  **"Yes."**

  A few moments later, another message appeared:

  **"€8M contract."**

  Leon paused for a moment, considering the offer. He then typed his response:

  **"€8M upfront, and another €8M after completion."**

  The screen remained static for a few moments, then another message appeared:

  **"No, that's too much."**

  Leon leaned back, his fingers poised over the keyboard. He knew how to negotiate, how to make them see the value in his skills. He typed his response:

  **"You need someone who can get the job done without a trace. My track record speaks for itself."**

  He waited, watching the cursor blink.

  Another message appeared:

  **"6M upfront, 6M after completion."**

  Leon shook his head, his determination unwavering. He typed back:

  **"€8M upfront, and €8M after completion. I assure you, this mission's complexity and the necessity for absolute discretion justify the cost. You want the best, and you know I'm the best."**

  There was a long pause before the final response came through:

  **"Agreed."**

  Leon allowed himself a brief smile. The negotiation was successful.

  ---

  #### Discussing the Details

  Leon then typed:

  **"Send me the details."**

  The reply was almost immediate:

  **"I have to meet to speak about that."**

  Leon frowned. He didn't like meeting contractors face-to-face. He typed back:

  **"I don't meet contractors. Just send it here."**

  The response came quickly:

  **"So much money is involved and how can I trust you? So we need to meet to discuss that."**

  Leon sighed, knowing there was no way around it. He typed back:

  **"Fine, but I will fix the location."**

  After a brief pause, he typed the final message:

  **"Meet me at Rue des Belles Feuilles, 9AM."**

  He logged off, pocketed his pendrive, and left the internet café. The meeting was set, and Leon was ready to take control of the situation. He would ensure everything went according to his plan.

  ---

  End of Chapter 3

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