MIKE
The knock on my office door was sharp. I looked up and saw an intern standing awkwardly in the doorway.
“Ms. Marsha wants to see you. Now.” I didn’t ask questions
A few minutes later, I stood inside her office. It was cold as always. The blinds were shut, the only light coming from the sharp glow of her desk lamp. Ms. Marsha stood with her back to me, arms crossed, staring at one of the digital display panels filled with mission reports and alerts.
“Agent Mike,” she said without turning. “Care to tell me if you have any updates on Agent Alfred’s whereabouts?”
I kept my voice steady.
“No, ma’am. Not yet.”
She slowly turned to face me. Her eyes were sharp—steel behind the glasses.
“No sightings. No comms. No tracker signals. No one in the system can pull up a single ping on him. And I find it hard to believe you haven’t heard a damn thing.”
“Alfred’s not someone who leaves traces. If he doesn’t want to be found—”
Marsha cut me off.
“I don’t want theories. I want results.”
She stepped closer to her desk, her fingers tapping on a tablet before placing it down.
“I want you to pressure Agent Freya.”
I stiffened. “Freya?”
“She’s his wife, Agent Mike. If anyone knows where he might be, it’s her. And if she says otherwise, she’s either in denial or lying. Push her. Hard.”
I hesitated.
“I don’t care how she feels,” Marsha snapped. “I care that a rogue agent with intimate knowledge of AI operations, the president’s inner circle, and our most confidential files has disappeared. it’s a national threat.”
I said nothing.
She walked behind her desk again, sat, and gave me a final glare.
I walked out of Ms. Marsha’s office with a headache pressing behind my eyes. The pressure was building—too many eyes, too many moving pieces.
Then I saw him. Just ten meters down the corridor, standing unnaturally still with his arms behind his back Agent Rock.
He wasn’t looking at me, not at first. Just waiting.
I slowed my pace.
When I was close enough, he finally turned his head. Cold eyes met mine.
“I know you know why I’m here talking to you, Agent Mike,” he said flatly. “And for the last time…”
He took a deliberate step forward.
“…be careful what you’re digging for.”
He leaned in just slightly lowered his voice.
“Tell that to Alfred.”
Then he walked away, hands still clasped behind his back like nothing happened.
They knew.
They knew Alfred was digging.
I followed Rock. Down the corridor, past the elevator, into the more silent wing of the HQ where most agents avoided. His steps were slow, deliberate as if he wanted me to catch up.
“Hey!” I called out.
He stopped, but didn’t turn.
I moved closer, tension crackling in the air.
“Was that Siren’s idea? The warning?”
He finally turned to face me. His expression unreadable. Cold.
“Because that’s not like her,” I pressed. “She doesn't warn. If she knew we were digging… she'd just end us.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of Rock’s lips.
“You’re right.”
He stepped into my space, voice dropping into a razor-thin whisper.
“Siren doesn’t know.”
My blood chilled. “Then who—?”
He tilted his head slightly.
“It was your brother’s idea.”
I blinked. “My… what?”
He ignored the question.
“So you need to be careful, Agent Mike. Because the moment Siren finds out that you know something you shouldn't”
He leaned in, his words like ice in my ear. “not even your brother can save you.”
And just like that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the next hallway like a shadow fading at dawn.
I called Alfred.
Once. Twice. A third time.
Each time, it went straight to voicemail.
No message. No reply. Nothing. I grabbed my keys, left HQ, and drove straight to the hideout.
When I arrived at the abandoned place Alfred had been calling home, the air was still.
Too still.
I approached the back entrance, hand instinctively brushing over the gun at my hip.
The door creaked as I stepped in.
“Alfred?” I called out quietly.
No answer.
I moved deeper inside. The makeshift investigation wall was still there—strings, photos, documents scattered across the wall. Then I heard movement from one of the side rooms.
I raised my guard, stepping closer—until the door cracked open and I saw her.
Elena.
She looked up from her desk, still surrounded by monitors and wires, her face pale and focused. But the moment she saw me, her expression shifted—relief, tension, and something like fear all rolled into one.
“Agent Mike,” she said.
“Where’s Alfred?” I asked immediately.
She looked away, chewing on the inside of her cheek.
“He left. About an hour ago. Said he needed to verify something on his own.”
“Why didn’t he answer my calls?”
“I don’t think he brought his phone.”
“Then where the hell did he go?” I asked, more to myself than to her.
Elena finally looked at me, brows pinched. “I don't know but he told me if you showed up, he didn’t want you following him.”
I barely had time to process Elena’s words when the door burst open with a loud slam.
“Alfred!” Elena shouted, rushing forward—then froze mid-step.
So did I.
Alfred staggered in, bloodied, clothes torn, and bruises littering every visible inch of his skin. But he wasn’t alone.
He was dragging someone with him—barely conscious, arms restrained behind his back, face bloodied and swollen.
My breath caught.
Agent Sian. who was already Declared dead—alongside Agent Dereck. But I knew. I knew Sian wasn't dead.
And now he was right here.
Elena took a horrified step back as Alfred shoved Sian forward and locked him inside a rusted utility room, slamming the door shut with a loud metallic clang and throwing the bolt.
He turned to me, panting heavily, blood trailing down his temple.
“You knew, didn’t you?”
My stomach clenched.
Alfred stepped closer, eyes wide with exhaustion and fury.
“You knew Sian was one of them—one of Siren. All this time.”
I didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t.
Because I did know. Not fully. Not clearly. But enough. Enough to know that if I chased that thread… it would unravel everything.
I looked him dead in the eye and said quietly,
“I didn’t want to believe it.”
Alfred scoffed and wiped the blood from his mouth.
“Well, believe it now.”
Alfred dragged a metal chair across the floor and slammed it down in front of Sian, who was cuffed to a pipe against the wall. Blood streaked down from his lip, his face battered, but his eyes—those cold eyes—were awake. Watching.
“I’ll ask one more time,” Alfred growled, his voice low and sharp. “Where the hell is Siren?”
Sian didn’t answer.
Alfred’s hand slammed against the wall next to him, the sound ringing through the hollow space like a gunshot.
“What does she want with the president?”
Still, silence.
I watched from the door, jaw clenched. I could see Alfred was trying to hold back, but he was fraying at the edges.
“And Leon,” Alfred hissed. “Is he working with her? Is he part of Siren?”
Sian shifted, slowly, almost smugly. His lips curled ever so slightly, but no words followed.
Alfred stepped back and took a deep breath.
Then he changed his approach.
“I want to remind you of something, Sian.”
He paced, voice softer now. More dangerous.
“Nicky. Dereck. Your teammates. Our friends.”
Sian’s expression flickered—barely.
“You remember what happened to Dereck, don’t you? The look on his face when he died?” Alfred said, biting every word. “You know why he died?. Because you stayed silent and loyal to a traitor.”
Sian looked down.
“And Nicky,” Alfred continued, stepping closer. “She trusted you and you let her die.”
There was a tremor in Sian’s jaw. A blink too long.
Alfred leaned in, his voice ice cold.
“So I’m giving you a choice, Sian. Talk. Or stay quiet and carry every damn name on your conscience until the day you die
Sian didn't answer Alfred’s question.
Instead, he looked up, blood dripping from his busted lip, and said softly,
“I’m sorry… about Nicky. And Dereck.”
His voice wasn’t mocking. It wasn’t hollow. It was… genuine. And somehow, that made it worse.
Then he turned his eyes to me.
“How long do you think until she knew what you guys were doing here?” he asked, the faintest trace of a smirk appearing.
He tilted his head behind me.
“That girl behind you,” he added, eyes locked on Elena. Sian chuckled, a low, bitter sound.
“Are you sure she’s on your side?”
I didn’t answer.
Alfred and I exchanged a glance, neither of us willing to look away from him for too long. The seed was planted. Suspicion. That’s what Siren always did. They didn’t just kill people, they made you question everyone still breathing.
Alfred took a slow step toward Sian again, jaw locked tight.
But Sian wasn’t done.
He leaned his head back against the wall, as if resigned to the chaos he was creating.
“How much do you really know?” he said, quieter this time. “You’re so quick to point the blame to Siren. But maybe… just maybe… you should’ve been focusing on your own agency.”
That was it.
Alfred snapped.
He grabbed Sian by the front of his blood-stained shirt and with a guttural yell, punched him, a brutal, sharp crack echoing in the room as Sian’s head snapped to the side.
Blood sprayed across the floor.
I stepped forward, grabbing Alfred’s arm.
“That’s enough.”
Sian laughed, spitting blood.
The room was still humming from Alfred’s fury when I heard quiet footsteps.
Elena.
She stepped forward—calm but unreadable. Her eyes locked on Sian, not saying a word.
Sian raised his head slowly, peering at her through his bruised, bloodied face. Something in his gaze shifted—not hatred… recognition.
He tilted his head slightly, as if sorting through memories long buried.
Then, in a hoarse, amused voice, he murmured:
“A Wallace?”
The air thinned.
Sian gave a crooked smile, eyes glinting.
“Is it a coincidence? A Wallace suddenly working behind AI agents?”
Elena stiffened, blinking.
“What are you talking about?”
Sian looked at me, then Alfred, then back to her—as if confirming something. Then his voice took on a cold, distant tone, like a storyteller reliving someone else’s tragedy.
“I once overheard Siren,” he said. “It was eleven years ago. She said she killed a little Wallace girl.”
He stared at Elena.
“But here you are. Alive. Breathing. Hidden behind fake identities and encrypted files. So the question is…” he leaned forward, despite the pain,
“Did Siren fail to kill you?”
A pause.
“Or did she spare you?” He narrowed his eyes.
“…or worse—did she save you?”
Elena stood frozen. Confusion washed over her face like a slow-moving wave. Her hands slightly trembled.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she whispered, almost to herself.
Sian smirked, the cut on his lip widening into a red line.
“Oh… she doesn’t know.”
Alfred’s jaw clenched. I stepped forward, instinctively putting myself between Elena and whatever the hell Sian was trying to twist into place.
Then, without warning, Elena lunged.
In a single, desperate move, she grabbed Alfred’s gun from his waist and leveled it at Sian.
Her hands trembled, but her eyes blazed with something I hadn't seen in her before—fear… and a fury that didn’t feel like hers.
“Elena!” Alfred barked.
“Put it down,” I said, stepping slowly in front of her. “You don’t want to do this.”
Her grip didn’t falter, but tears slipped down her cheeks, quiet and raw.
“You’re lying…” she whispered, voice cracking. “You’re lying about me.”
Sian didn’t flinch. He just looked at her like he was already tired of the pain this world handed them.
I gently wrapped my fingers around the barrel of the gun.
“Elena. Look at me. You’re not like them. You hear me? You’re not like them.”
After a tense second… she let go.
I lowered the gun, handed it back to Alfred. Elena took two steps back, breathing hard, wiping at her tears.
I turned to Sian—not as an enemy, not as some infiltrator.
But as his former captain. Alpha Team’s Captain.
“What aren’t you saying?” I asked him quietly.
Sian looked up, beaten, bruised… but still with that same edge of certainty in his voice.
“You should leave,” he said. “Now. Before Siren finds this place.”
Alfred scoffed. “they can’t possibly know where we are.”
Sian gave a weak shake of his head.
“Siren implanted a tracker. In me, all of us . Somewhere deep—hidden, encrypted.”
Alfred’s eyes went wide.
“Shit. No—no, no, I checked you for any traces—”
“It’s not detectable with Agency scans,” Sian cut in. “It’s something new. Something she built.”
Alfred started to panic, grabbing his gear.
“We need to wipe everything. We need to move now.”
But I stepped between them again.
“Why are you telling us this now?” I asked.
Sian met my gaze.
“Because if Siren shows up here—if she finds you, Elena, Alfred—she won’t hesitate to kill you”
His eyes darkened. “And not even your brother, Mike… can stop what’s coming.”
Silence.
Then he leaned his head back against the wall.
“This is the last time I help you,” he added, voice fading.