The glow of my laptop screen reflected faintly against the dark room. I sat cross-legged on the floor, my back resting against the bedframe, fingers dancing over the keyboard with the ease of a woman born to break into shadows. A half-eaten protein bar sat forgotten by my side, cold tea growing bitter in its cup. The rest of the world could spin on but this was my world now: code, encrypted tunnels, firewalls, and faint trails.
I leaned forward, squinting at the latest data i'd pulled from my backdoor into the MI6 trace logs. Still no new ping on the missing agent's location. It was like the bastard had grown wings and vanished off the grid. But i knew better. No one vanished without leaving smoke in their wake. And i was the one hired to find the fire.
My eyes narrowed on another tab,one i'd been obsessing over for the past few days. Mr. Segun.
I knew he was tied into this, somehow. A man like that didn't lie low for this long unless he was orchestrating something bigger from the shadows. I had traced several offshore accounts believed to be linked to human trafficking networks, but one had my gut twisting: Syndex Holdings. The activity patterns were too irregular, the encryption too aggressive.
A sharp inhale.
I'd managed to bypass some layers, but the deeper i went, the more frustrating the trail became. Still no concrete link between the account and Segun, just my gut screaming that the man was behind it. That Syndex was a puppet arm in a much larger operation.
My phone buzzed beside me. I glanced at the screen. Vicky.
I hesitated. Vicky had been checking in more than usual lately, maybe she sensed the storm brewing. I picked up, holding the phone to my ear as i stared at the flickering screen.
"Vick, now's not a good time," i said softly.
"I figured," Vicky replied, her voice laced with concern. "You sound tired. Just wanted to hear your voice."
I closed my eyes briefly, swallowing the sudden weight in my chest. "I promise I'll call you back. Later tonight."
A pause. Then Vicky sighed. "Okay. Just... don't forget, alright?"
"I won't," i whispered and ended the call.
I leaned back for a second, my shoulders tense. Seconds later, my eyes snapped open again. No time for emotions. I had a shift at the dingy diner on 45th, Bronx, my cover job in the skechiest part of New York. i glanced at the time. Shit. I was running late.
In one fluid motion, i shut the laptop, grabbed my black hoodie, and slipped into black jeans and boots. No makeup. No distractions. Just another faceless woman on a New York night shift. I moved through the apartment quickly, exiting through the back alley like always.
But the moment my boots hit the pavement, i felt it.
The presence.
Not loud or obvious, just a prickling on the back of my neck. I had learned to trust my instincts. Someone was watching me.
I didn't look back immediately. Instead, i blended into the street flow, my steps light and unhurried. At the next intersection, i caught the faintest shadow behind me. A tall figure, keeping distance. Smooth movements, not random, definitely trained.
My heart rate picked up, but my expression remained calm. I turned into a side street, then another, pulling off the hoodie and tucking my hair under a knit cap, i pulled from my side bag. I changed my gait slightly limp, then normal, then limp again. Confusion was my weapon.
That's when my burner phone buzzed.
An encrypted message, single line:
"Target located. MI6 agent is alive. Details incoming."
Everything stilled for a second.
The diner didn't matter anymore. Nothing else did.
My pulse surged, adrenaline sharpening my thoughts. I needed to get back to base, prep gear, reroute surveillance. But first i had to lose the tail.
I ducked into an old liquor store, slipped out through the emergency exit, then hopped fences through two residential blocks, doubling back and merging with a group of tourists on 49th. By the time i reached a main road again, i was sure the shadow was gone.
I flagged a cab with a soft whistle, slipped into the back seat, and gave an address two blocks from my real destination.
As the cab pulled into traffic, i leaned back, exhaling. My hand gripped the burner tightly in my coat pocket.
The game was on.
And this time, I was ready to burn down the entire fucking board.