"So you're completely clear on the plan?"
"I'm not so sure," Caitlin replied, rolling her eyes. "We might have to go over it again. All three steps."
I ignored the sarcasm. "Then I guess we're good."
She nodded. I turned around to address the room once more. The people inside the safe room looked worse than the staff we'd gathered earlier. Pale. Exhausted. Some of them still shaking. It made sense. They had been stuck in a sealed room as everything unfolded above them. Having no idea what was happening or if help was even coming. That kind of thing wore people down.
At least the others had us. Had something to hold onto. These ones had only uncertainty.
Still… They were much better now. A few even smiling. Even Caitlin's demeanor had improved. She was much steadier than she'd been just a few minutes before.
And everyone was accounted for. That was huge.
"Everyone," I said, raising a hand slightly. "May I have your attention please."
Dozens of uncertain eyes locked onto me, conversation ceasing completely.
"I will be leaving the room now."
Their voices overlapped as they started to protest, panic spreading through the room.
"Quiet!"
Caitlin's voice cut through all the noise.
The room froze. I glanced at her, mildly surprised. She didn't look back at me. Her eyes stayed on them, firm and unyielding. She gestured to me to continue.
"This doesn't mean I'm abandoning you," I said. "I'm doing this to ensure your director makes it out alive."
That settled them a bit. But it wasn't enough. Nothing I said could fully calm them. Not in a situation like this.
I pointed at Caitlin. "Ms. Vance will remain with you for the time being. Follow her instructions without fail." A few hesitant nods. "Remember, a team of marshals are working on breaching the building as we speak. So as long as you all stay put, you will be fine."
They exchanged worried expressions, clearly not convinced. But this was the best I could offer.
"Just remain calm. That's how you all make it out of this. "
Before leaving, I looked over to the corner. The two women I'd taken down earlier were still unconscious. The second one was still in bad shape but she would live. Perhaps it was a good thing I didn't kill her. She could end up a valuable informant after this was all over. Assuming she wasn't another fanatic.
I tapped on the controls to the door and stepped out when it slid open.
"Good luck." Caitlin called from behind me.
"You too."
The door shut. Not five seconds later, the voice returned.
"Are they alright?"
"Yes," I replied, already walking.
"How can I trust you?"
I stopped just outside the stairwell door.
"Because your obsession with keeping them alive turned them into assets," I said calmly. "Marshals do not damage assets."
A quiet exhale came through the speakers. "Fair enough. I'm waiting."
His tone stuck with me as I went down the flight of stairs. He sounded much more resigned than before. Like ensuring his subordinates safety was the only thing he had left to do. The door to the last floor came into view.
And with it, a dread. Every single instinct I had sharpened over the years screamed at once. They warned that I was walking straight into a trap. I believed them. The signs were all there. Logically, it seemed like his only option left in this situation was to give up. But I doubted that he went through all this trouble to bring me down here just to surrender.
This was far from over.
I grabbed the door handle and pushed it open without pause, ignoring my better judgement. The plan had already been made and I would follow it through. And strangely… I felt calm. Maybe it was because I was now at the fourth tier. Maybe it was something else. But the fear that should've been there was gone.
I came out into a short corridor. Five doors lined the wall ahead. The second and third opened already.
The man made sure I didn't have any problems. "Step into the third room."
The space opened up as I approached. The room was wide. A massive screen stretched across the far wall, split into multiple feeds. Different locations in the building. A control panel sat in front of the screen, lined with several chairs. And standing at the center of them was the 'boss'.
He was… underwhelming.
His back was turned to me, shoulders slightly hunched over the control panel, fingers resting idly against its surface. For someone who had orchestrated the entire incident, there was nothing about him that stood out. No presence
He was small. Not just shorter than me; shorter than any of the others I'd faced today. Far below average height for a medean, as his obsidian skin suggested. He was thin too. His frame looked almost fragile beneath the black uniform. The slight curve in his posture didn't help. If anything, it made him look older than he probably was.
But the most important thing was his scent. It was mild, dusty and provided a bit of relief. He wasn't on rox.
Tied up on the chair beside him was a man. Or at least what was left of one.
They really did a number on the director. His body slumped awkwardly against the restraints. Blood soaked through what remained of his clothing, streaking across his torso and dripping onto the floor beneath him. His face was worse, split in multiple places and swollen. His arms hung at unnatural angles. Legs too.
Broken.
Whatever they had wanted from him… this wasn't about extracting information anymore. This was excess. Cruelty for its own sake.
His eyes turned weakly to me as I entered. There was some recognition there but barely. He didn't have the strength for anything else. The boss, in contrast, hadn't even turned to face me.
My hands had already moved to my sides.
"I wouldn't get any ideas if I were you." Something flashed out from his left. It was a remarkably thin blade. A rapier. The tip settled just beneath the director's throat, pressing lightly into the skin.
I stilled.
He finally turned around to face me. It wasn't any better. There was still nothing notable about him. No scars. No defining features. Just a lined face, slightly aged and completely ordinary. Someone I would pass on the street without a second glance.
"I do not doubt your prowess." He said, expression remaining neutral. "You've made that quite clear."
The blade pressed a bit deeper. "But even you have no hope of reaching me before this man dies."
I let go of my weapons. "Point taken."
His eyes moved over me slowly. "You marshals…" he murmured. "You just keep getting younger."
His gaze settled on my face.
"You're only a boy."
He said the last word with a twinge of emotion. Guilt? Now? After killing all those people in cold blood?
"What do they call you?" he asked after a brief pause.
"I have no name to give a murderer."
The rapier's edge cut the skin, drawing some blood.
"Aldrich." I sighed. "Class 1 Captain Aldrich."
He frowned. "Aldrich? That name is… familiar."
"It's a common name." I said, getting impatient. "Can we just get to the part where you tell me why you brought me here."
My senses told me it was only the three of us on the floor. That only made me more cautious.
He didn't reply, just staring at me.
"How do you do it?" He asked after several seconds.
"What? How do I do what?"
"We worked on this operation for months." He leaned against the panel. "It was supposed to be perfect. Even when the distress call went through, it was fine. I was prepared for such problems."
His expression soured, finally showing some emotion. "But you. The second you came into the building you knew something was wrong. I've been watching you. You always knew where to look. You reacted to threats that hadn't revealed themselves yet. It's almost as if…" He titled his head. "...you have some sort of sixth sense."
No one could be blamed for coming to that conclusion after witnessing my actions. But I chose to offer no explanation. Better to leave it to his speculation.
I simply shrugged.
That seemed to irritate him. His jaw tightened for just a moment before he exhaled slowly, forcing himself back into composure.
"Well I guess it doesn't matter now."
In the time we had been talking, I had looked through all the sections of the screen. I couldn't find the director's office or the safe room. Good news. Now I knew for sure that he hadn't heard any of the important conversations. The only thing left was to stall.
"Why did you break into this facility and kill those employees?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Small talk? I don't believe you're so foolish to think that I'll actually answer that."
"I had to ask."
He shook his head and his expression changed, a faraway look in his eyes.
"I have to admit, you're an impressive young man." He said quietly. "I was never that… competent. Not even when I was twice your age. Perhaps I'm still not."
More alarms flared. That wasn't sentiment. I could practically see the hatred swirl in his eyes. Despite his words, this man held no positive feelings towards me.
"My time with the Order…" he continued, "…was the only time in my life that made any sense."
He shifted slightly, the rapier still resting against the director's throat.
"Before them, I was nothing. A mistake. A man drifting from one failure to the next. No direction. No purpose."
His gaze lowered, unfocused for a moment.
"They gave me one."
This man was reflecting on his life. In front of an enemy that would gladly end it.
"And I believed in it," he went on. "Still do." His grip tightened slightly on the blade. The tip pressed deeper into the director's skin, drawing another thin line of blood. "Enough to see it through to the end. No matter the cost. I don't care how many lives are sacrificed in the process."
He paused. "Mine included."
This was resolve. Cold, complete and final. He hadn't called me here to negotiate or escape. He called me here to finish something.
"This doesn't have to go any further," I said. "Let the man go and surrender peacefully. You may just be able to keep your life and the lives of your associates."
He chuckled softly. "My subordinates will live. I understand your system. They are only implicated. I can guarantee you that there won't be any evidence explicitly tying them to the murders. They'll be processed and contained. Stored away somewhere for the rest of their lives."
Unlike his confident tone suggested, he did not understand. If it was only one or two people dead then maybe. But this was a massacre. Evidence or not, they were clearly involved in the deaths of over twenty people. They would be lucky to die quick deaths.
I didn't correct him.
"And as for me," he said, briefly glancing at the panel, "I have no intention of submitting to your version of justice."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement on the screen. Caitlin. She had left the safe room and was slowly approaching the stairwell. Had it been ten minutes already?
The man straightened up from the panel, dusting himself off without lowering the blade.
"Well Captain Aldrich. I've enjoyed our little chat but it's time to get down to business, don't you think?"
My eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by—"
He slammed in his hand onto the panel.
There was a hiss as the door moved behind me. By the time I looked back, it had already sealed shut.
Instinct completely took over. This just got too real too fast. I didn't have the luxury of worrying about the director anymore.
Trent came free in one smooth motion as I turned back toward him. The rapier was no longer on the director's neck. Perfect. I lunged forward, hurling my weapon at the man as I did so.
The tip pierced deep into his shoulder. His entire body jolted with the force. He didn't cry out. Nor did he stop.
He switched the rapier to his other hand mid-motion, raising it just as I closed the distance, Lloyd already flying to meet him.
But he didn't aim for me.
He drove the blade straight down into the control panel.
Metal screeched and sparks burst out.
A fraction of a second later, there was impact.
Lloyd bit into his arm, cutting deep. A sharp breath escaped him this time. He didn't release his grip from the blade, instead turning to me and smiling.
"Checkma–"
The rest didn't come, silenced by a right hook to the jaw. His body dropped instantly, crumpling to the ground. I wasn't done.
My fingers closed around Trent's haft, yanking it free as he fell. I brought it back down with a vengeance. The blade severed his arm at the elbow.
Blood sprayed outward as it separated, some of it getting on my face. The hand remained attached to the handle. He hit the ground with a strangled cry, clutching at the stump, his body writhing as he groaned in pain.
I looked over the panel. He had damaged a part of the controls. The same part he had used to shut the doors. I was trapped.
"What have you done?"
The groans turned into a rough laughter. It was uneven but his joy was real.
That… irritated me. I grabbed the detached arm, ripping it away from the rapier still clutched in its hand, tossing it aside before pulling the weapon free. I kicked him, forcing him to face the ceiling before stabbing the blade into his thigh. His laughter was cut off by a tortured grunt.
"What have you done?" I asked again, crouching over him.
He gave a bloodied grin. "You are dangerous, boy. Far more than I expected."
I twisted the blade, and watched the veins pop on his forehead as he tried not to scream. "Answer me!"
"Your existence alone is a problem. We can always rebuild everything we lost today… except the damage you will cause if you grow any further." His breathing hitched as he continued. "You may have won the battle, but you won't live to see the war."
He started laughing again. And then I caught it.
It was clear enough at this distance. My nose picked up a scent from his person, buried beneath his own musk. I grabbed his collar, slicing the shirt open with Trent. The fabric split.
And underneath, I saw the reason for his laughter.
A contraption strapped to his chest. A timer. A sharp, electric smell.
An exploding vest.