SIREN
I was seated behind my desk and Gray standing beside me, arms crossed,when Oscar, Kate and Drake entered my office and made their way to the couch without a word.
The silence thick until I broke it—eyes locked on Kate. “Is the president dead?”
Kate exhaled and shook her head. “Still alive.”
I didn’t respond right away. Gray, without even looking at me, spoke calmly.                               
“You were right, Si. They’ll use him against you. What if he talks? That’d be bad on our part.”
I smirked and leaned back in my chair, resting my fingers together.
“They will,” I replied. “That’s Leon we’re talking about.”Gray turned his gaze toward me now, waiting.
“He knows me. He knew I could’ve killed Bobby the moment he declared war on us. So I’m sure he’s assumed that I need Bobby. That’s exactly the plan—I want them to believe that Bobby is some kind of threat to us.”
I glanced toward the trio again, expression unreadable.
“Let them think that. For now, it’s exactly what I need.”
Then my eyes landed on Oscar.
“Did Alfred see him?” I asked plainly, knowing there was only one ‘him’ I could mean.
Oscar nodded. “Yeah. He saw Leon.”
I smiled slowly, rising from my chair. “That’s it,” I said. “That’s enough.”
Drake leaned forward on the couch, brows furrowed, tension heavy in his voice.
“What if we just eliminate Leon? Cut off the loose end before he compromises more than he already has.”
Before I could say a word, Gray spoke, sharp and steady.“No.”
He looked at Drake with quiet authority.
“As far as Rock said, Leon’s been acting alone. No direct orders from the Elites—not yet.”
I crossed my arms, my gaze hardening.
“Not until we know who he’s working for. Whoever’s pulling Leon’s strings…” I paused, my voice lowering, “...is the same one supplying Agent Mike with information about his father.”
Drake’s jaw tensed, but he nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what that meant.
I turned away from them, pacing slightly. “I want to meet this person. He’s making things easier—for both sides, whether he realizes it or not.”
I stopped, letting the silence hang. Then I said it, calm and certain.
“Mike knows by now. He knows I’m Agent Shade.”
Kate scoffed from her seat and raised a brow, voice dripping in sarcasm.
“But it wasn’t you who pulled the trigger, Si.”
I turned my head to her, but didn’t argue. It didn’t matter.
Just then, the door opened and Ian walked in, expression unreadable as always. Without a word, he handed me a folder. I opened it—and there, stamped with security clearance and internal records, were the details I requested.
The file of Marsha Torres.
The new Deputy Director of AIA.
I scanned the first page, eyes narrowing. Things were about to get interesting. As I scanned the data in the folder, my fingers paused halfway through the second page—and then, I couldn’t help it.
A chuckle slipped out.
It grew—soft at first, then deeper. And before I knew it, I was laughing.
Ian blinked, confused.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. I didn’t answer. I just kept laughing, holding the file open like it was the punchline of a well-timed joke.
Kate and Drake exchanged glances, wary. Gray just leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, quietly waiting—like he always did when he knew I was connecting dots faster than I could explain.
A knock came at the door. I didn’t stop laughing. The door cracked open slightly, and Mason stepped in, tablet in hand.
“Si, I’ve got the—” he started, but his words slowed when he saw the room wasn’t empty. His eyes flicked from me to the rest of the team, picking up on the tension… and maybe the slightly unhinged laughter coming from me.
He cleared his throat, straightened, and gave a respectful nod. “Didn’t realize you had company. I’ll come back later.”
I managed to calm myself just enough to wave him off, still grinning as he backed out of the room. The door clicked shut behind him. I finally looked at Ian, eyes sharp with something between triumph and fury.
“You’re not going to believe who Marsha Torres really is.”
Ian furrowed his brow as he stared at the folder still in my hands. “Why do you even need information on Marsha Torres?”
I leaned back in my chair, that familiar calculating smile playing on my lips. “It’s for future purposes,” I answered simply.
Oscar turned to Ian, curious. “Who is she anyway?”
Ian replied without hesitation, “She’s the new Deputy Director of the AIA.”
That earned a few surprised glances across the room. I let the moment hang before cutting in, my tone calm, certain, and unsettling. “Marsha and Leon are working for the same goal… the same purpose.”
Kate, sitting closest to me, narrowed her eyes. “What does that even mean, Si?”
I placed the folder down on the table, fingers still resting on its edge, and my eyes drifted away—not at the people in front of me, but back to a memory etched deep into the marrow of who I was.
“When I was still an agent… long before any of you knew me, Tony Dixon—my recruiter, my handler—gave me a special mission,” I began, voice slow, deliberate. “It was off the books. No support. Just me and a name.”
They were all silent now.
“On that mission, I met Leon,” I continued. “He was a nobody back then. Untrained, reckless, and yet—deadly precise in protecting someone. A woman-Marsha. She was my target.”
Kate leaned forward, intrigued.
“Leon staged her death,” I said, remembering every detail. “He set the entire scene up so AI would think she was gone. And it worked. They buried a ghost. No one looked for her again.”
“And you just let that happen?” Oscar asked carefully.
“I did,” I said simply. “Because Tony and I decided to go along with it. I don’t know who the woman was or why Leon risked so much… but Tony said it wasn’t our business anymore.”
Kate raised a brow. “And he never knew it was you on the mission?”
I shook my head. “No "
Kate tilted her head, lips pursed. “Is she a threat?”
I looked at her—at all of them—and after a beat, I simply said,
“Possibly, she is.”
I stood from my chair and walked to the window, hands behind my back as I looked out into the quiet darkness beyond the compound.
“For now, we do nothing. We observe. Let’s see how Leon plans to use President Bobby.”
I turned around and gave them a silent cue. “Leave my office,” I added with finality. “We’ll wait.”
The team stood. No questions. No hesitation.
But just as Kate reached for the door, Gray, who had been unusually silent, suddenly froze. His phone vibrated in his hand. He looked down, eyes scanning the screen—then widened.
“What is it?” I asked, voice calm but direct.
He slowly raised his gaze, stunned. “Bobby is dead,” he muttered.
The room went still for a second. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t blink.
“So he’s going to use him… by framing us.”
A heavy silence settled in the room.
“That’s bold,” Ian said under his breath.
I narrowed my eyes slightly. “No. That’s strategic… and very Leon.”