MIKE
Finally, Alfred broke the silence.
"When I first caught sight of him... I thought I was seeing a ghost."
I stopped pacing, looking at him. Elena glanced up, confused.
"I was at Casa LaNo... an underground speakeasy bar down by the old docks. I was supposed to meet an informant — someone who said they had a lead on Leon. But then, I saw him."
He looked at us grimly.
"Sian"
"I couldn't believe it. Dereck and Sian... both were declared dead months ago. We mourned them. We buried them."
"But there he was, alive, breathing. Laughing."
Alfred clenched his jaw.
"I texted my contact, canceled the meet. Decided to follow Sian instead. Watched him for about twenty minutes — nothing unusual at first. Then he slipped into an alley behind the bar."
Alfred shifted uncomfortably, remembering.
"And that's where I saw him talking to some guy — short hair, wearing a navy jacket. I couldn't catch much of what they said... but they were passing something between them. A flash drive, maybe. Or something else."
"After they split, I thought Sian was leaving... but instead, he came back into the bar. And when he did—"
He looked up at me, eyes darkening.
"He wasn't alone."
I already knew where this was going.
Still, I stayed quiet, letting him finish.
"He was with Jeremiah and Oscar." Siren's people.
"That's when I knew. Sian wasn’t just working with them. He was one of them."
Alfred leaned back against the worn-out couch, arms crossed tightly, his jaw clenching.
He stared at me, disappointment clear in his eyes.
"You knew."
"You knew Sian is alive. You knew something was wrong inside the agency. And you still didn’t tell anyone."
I stayed quiet for a moment, letting his words hang in the air.
"Damn it, Mike! We could've prepared better."
"If I had told the agency, we wouldn’t be sitting here right now." I took a step closer to Alfred, meeting his angry gaze
"They would’ve buried the truth, just like they always do"
Alfred stood up, pacing now, running a hand through his hair.
"You sound just like them."
I shook my head.
Elena quietly stepped forward.
She held her tablet out to Alfred, her fingers trembling slightly as she showed him the screen.
It was a secured memo, freshly sent from AI's internal network.
I leaned closer to read it.
MEMO
From: Ms. Marsha
To: All Active Agents
Subject: TERMINATION NOTICE
"Effective immediately, Agent Alfred Wyatt is no longer affiliated with AI Agency. He is to be considered rogue and a potential threat to agency operations. Immediate retrieval or neutralization is authorized."
I froze.
My hands clenched into fists.
"Goddammit."
I turned to Alfred. He was staring blankly at the screen, as if trying to process that his life just got even more dangerous.
In this industry, rogue meant one thing — elimination.
"I have to go."
"If they declared you rogue, it's not just Siren anymore. FBI, CIA... They're all going to come after you."
Without waiting for another word, I stormed out.
AI HEADQUARTERS
I marched toward Ms. Marsha’s office,
At the door, a new secretary, a young man in a tight suit, stepped in front of me, holding his palm
"Agent Mike, Ms. Marsha is currently—"
I didn’t give him a chance to finish.
I shoved him aside, sending him stumbling into the wall. Papers and folders scattered to the floor.
Without missing a beat, I slammed open the heavy office door with my shoulder.
Ms. Marsha looked up slowly from her desk, not startled, not surprised. It was like she expected me to burst in.
She clasped her hands together neatly on top of a closed file.
"Agent Mike. I wondered how long it would take before you decided to make a scene."
I stepped inside, slamming the door behind me so hard the walls shook.
"You’re making a mistake, Marsha. You declared war on your own people."
"I declared war on threats to this agency. Wyatt became one the moment he put his curiosity before his loyalty."
I took a step closer, feeling the burn of betrayal deep in my chest.
"You're not protecting AI anymore... You’re protecting whoever's pulling your strings."
"Leave, Agent Mike. Before you force me to issue another termination."
We locked eyes in a heavy, silent war. I turned sharply, storming out of the office, the new secretary glaring as I passed him.
I was halfway down the corridor when I froze—two figures were walking toward me from the other end.
Agent Patrick and Agent Freya. Dust still clung to their jackets, fresh off a field mission.
Freya’s eyes narrowed the second she saw me.
She picked up her pace, pushing past Patrick.
"Mike! What the hell is going on?"
I didn’t answer. My face remained unreadable, my jaw tight.
She stopped in front of me, inches away.
"Why would they issue a memo saying Alfred is a rogue agent? That’s my husband! My partner! He wouldn't just disappear unless something’s really wrong."
Patrick stood a few steps behind, silent but clearly listening, eyes flicking between us.
"Please… just tell me something, Mike. Tell me where he is. Tell me what he’s doing."
I looked at her. At the pain in her voice. At the desperation. And I wanted to tell her everything. But I couldn’t risk it—not with the agency watching every move. So I steadied my breath and shook my head slowly.
"I don’t know where Alfred is, Freya. But I promise you—I’ll figure it out. And I’ll bring him home."
"You better be careful, Mike. People are starting to notice."
I nodded once, brushing past them before they could say more.
My phone vibrated sharply in my hand.
A text from an unknown number:
"Meet me. Abandoned building. 2 blocks east of HQ.
Come alone."
I stopped walking, my instincts screaming. I scanned the dark edges of the lot, the rooftops above.
Was someone watching me right now?
I tried to call the number back, but it immediately kicked to a voicemail—
Swearing under my breath, I quickly dialed Elena.
"Elena, I need you to trace a number—now."
"Send it."
I forwarded the number to her, shoving my phone into my jacket pocket.
Without wasting another second, I headed toward my car.
ABANDONED BUILDING
I pulled up across the street, engine running low. My phone buzzed — it was Elena again.
"Mike, listen. That message—it came from a burner, but it was triggered inside AI Headquarters."
"Someone inside?"
"Yes. Be careful."
I stared at the building, mind racing. Was it a trap? A warning? A cry for help?
Without another word, I shoved my phone into my jacket, stepped out, and crossed the empty street.
The heavy metal door groaned as I pushed it open. Inside, the building smelled of mold and dust. I drew my weapon instinctively. The first floor was empty , trashed furniture, torn papers scattered like leaves. My boots echoed as I moved slowly toward the creaking staircase leading to the second floor. The second level loomed above, dark and foreboding. I took a slow, steady breath and ascended.
I moved carefully down the hallway.
At the far end — a figure.
Standing in the shadows.
Waiting.
"You're faster than I expected, Agent Mike."
I tightened my grip on my gun.
"Step into the light. Hands where I can see them."
The figure finally stepped fully into the light, and my blood ran cold.
Director Leo.
He stood alone, no bodyguards, just him in his dark suit, hands calmly behind his back.
I lowered my weapon slightly but kept it ready.
"What the hell is this, Director? Why are you here?"
Director Leo's sharp eyes pinned me like a hawk sizing up its prey.
"I'm not here to dance around, Agent Mike. Tell me—where is Alfred?"
I clenched my jaw. Of course he knew.
With the reach and power Director Leo wielded inside AI , it would have been impossible to keep anything secret from him for long.
Still, what unsettled me was something else— Ms. Marsha.
If Leo knew, why did Marsha act like she didn’t? Why was she pushing so hard, almost desperately, to treat Alfred as a rogue without mentioning Leo’s name once?
"You already have your own network. Why ask me?"
Director Leo stepped closer, voice low and deliberate.
"Because,Agent Mike, you are the key. Alfred trusts you more than anyone else. He will come to you eventually. And when he does—" "I want you to bring him in."
"Bring him in? To what? The Agency that just branded him rogue without a hearing? Without an investigation?"
"There's more at stake here than you know."
I stared hard at him, trying to read the pieces he wasn't saying.
"Does Ms. Marsha know you’re here? Or are you moving on your own?"
Director Leo didn't answer
I turned to leave, but Director Leo’s voice stopped me cold.
"Your father, Gabriel Morris... he would've understood why I'm doing this."
I froze.
My fingers clenched into fists at my side. Slowly, I turned back toward him, eyes narrowed like steel.
"Don't you dare."
Director Leo stepped forward, unshaken.
"He was one of the best the CIA ever had, Mike. He—"
Without thinking, I raised my gun halfway between us, the safety already off.
"Stop. You have no right to say his name."
"But you deserve to know the truth about what really happened to him.
And why... it's all connected to what you're chasing now."
My voice came out hoarse, edged with both fury and desperate need.
"Talk."
Director Leo took a long breath before he spoke, as if weighing every word carefully.
"Your father, Gabriel Morris, wasn’t just any agent, Mike. He was CIA’s finest. And his partner, Agent Alexander Meier, was just as good — maybe even better in intelligence work."
I lowered the gun, just a bit. The mention of Meier stirred something. That name… I’d seen it before
"The Agency gave them a black assignment, one that was scrubbed from all official records. They were tasked to infiltrate and dismantle a mafia coalition we believed had successfully acquired the unthinkable — a nuclear device."
I stared at him.
"A nuke?"
"Yes. A weapon powerful enough to wipe out a quarter million people. CIA’s internal informant said it was operational. Hidden somewhere in Europe. He and Meier tracked the weapon’s location. They went off-grid as part of deep cover — but then... they disappeared. No signal. No intel. Gone."
I stepped forward, heart pounding in my chest. The words I dreaded to hear finally came.
"After a month of silence, the Agency declared them traitors. The theory? They’d joined the very mafia they were sent to destroy."
I clenched my jaw. I knew my father. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t a traitor. Never.
"That's a lie."
"It’s what the Agency wanted everyone to believe. They burned every record of the mission. No funeral. No search. Just a quiet, brutal erasure."
"But I never believed it. Neither did your mother."
My eyes snapped back to him.
"You knew my mom?"
"She was part of our internal affairs team. She begged them to open an investigation. They denied it."
Leo’s voice dropped lower.
"That nuclear weapon? Never found. That mafia coalition? Vanished after your father's disappearance. And Agent Meier?"
He paused.
"No one ever saw him again"
I stiffened.
"...What?"
"But if Meier's really back, we’re not just dealing with Siren. We’re dealing with the architect of a global conspiracy"
"You’ve known all this for years. Why now? Why dump this all on me when the Agency's crumbling and Alfred’s being hunted like a dog?"
Director Leo didn’t flinch. Instead, he sighed, hands resting behind his back.
"Because now, you’re finally ready to hear it."
I scoffed, pacing slowly, piecing it together in my head.
"That’s not a real answer. You could’ve told me before Alfred was disavowed. Before Siren hunted down half my team." I turned to face him, voice low and sharp.
"Unless… this isn’t about the truth. This is about control. About keeping me close just enough to use me."
Director Leo’s eyes flickered with something — not guilt, but calculation.
"I won’t deny that you’ve become a key piece in this, Mike. The moment you disobeyed orders to follow your instincts, you placed yourself on a different board."
"Then who’s moving the pieces? You, or Marsha?"
Director Leo walked past me toward the grimy window overlooking the empty street below.
"I don’t trust Marsha. And frankly, she doesn’t trust me. We’ve both been trying to contain this mess in our own way."
He turned, locking eyes with me. But I told you about your father because the people you're up against are the same ones who betrayed him. You deserve to know that much."
My jaw clenched. My instincts were flaring — he wasn’t telling me everything. He never had. But if what he said was even partly true, then the rabbit hole was deeper than any of us imagined.
I stepped toward the door, pausing without looking back.
but, I didn’t leave.
Instead, I turned around, my boots heavy on the rotting floorboards, facing Director Leo again—this time with steel in my eyes and a truth I’ve kept quiet for too long.
"You know what’s funny, Director? You left something out. Someone who wrote a report… a classified internal memo… assisting my father during that mission."
Leo narrowed his eyes. I didn’t stop.
"Agent Shade."
Before the word “Shade” fully escaped my mouth, Director Leo lunged forward and slapped a firm hand over my mouth, his other hand gripping my shoulder with force.
(mouthing, not speaking aloud) Don’t ever… ever say that name again.
His eyes burned—not with anger, but raw fear. His hand trembled slightly as he slowly let go of my shoulder, his voice now just a whisper.
Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the back stairs, leaving me alone in the cold, decaying silence of the abandoned floor.
Director Leo’s reaction still lingers in my head. That fear. That urgency.
"Why was he afraid of that name? Who’s listening?"
I walked out of the abandoned building and called Elena.
"Elena?"
"Got you, Mike. What’s wrong?"
"I need you to dig up everything you can on a CIA operative. Name’s Alexander Meier. He was my father’s partner before they both disappeared. I need background, mission history—anything that links him to Shade, or even mentions that name in buried CIA records."
"That’s old. And probably sealed. But… I’ll try my best. Are you okay?"
"Just do it. And encrypt everything. Burn the traces afterward. I’m heading back now."
I ended the call and throws my phone onto the passenger seat.
Why didn’t Director Leo tell me this before? Why now? What changed?
I pulls up to the familiar gravel road and the hidden safehouse emerges in the dim headlights.
Elena sits across from me on the worn-out couch as she turns the screen toward me.
"This is him. Agent Alexander Meier. Recruited by the CIA at age 20, top of his class, specialized in infiltration and deep cover. But... his official records? Gone. Like they never existed."
I lean forward, staring at the screen. The photo shows a young man in his late twenties—strong jawline, steel-blue eyes, the look of someone who knew too much and said too little.
"There was something oddly familiar about his eyes—something off."
"But here’s the thing. That face? It matched another ID in an Interpol archive. Samuel Schmidt. A German national tied to mafia operations. Drugs, weapons, laundering... everything. High-level, buried deep."
My throat tightens.
Samuel
Then it clicks. The conversation. That call.
VLADIMIR’S WIFE
"She came for him—asked where Samuel was."
I know Siren is looking for the coordinates. Did she know that Samuel and Agent Meier are the same person? Is that why she's trying to locate Samuel, so Siren is also looking for the nuclear weapon? why? On what purpose?