MIKE
Weeks had passed like smoke through a keyhole—no answers, just shadows. Alfred was barely around, always slipping into the cracks of the underground world, chasing whispers and names. One name, in particular—Agent Leon—kept circling back.
Today, he came back with something.
"He’s been seen at Casa LaNo again. Same bar. My guy swears he’s not there for drinks."
His voice was tense, sharp. We both knew it—Leon wasn’t just out of place; he was hiding something
"Casa LaNo… again" . That speakeasy is becoming more of a crossroad than a hideout.
CASA LANO
We entered separately. I blended in with the late crowd, my cap low, jacket zipped. Alfred took the back, his eyes darting beneath the shadows. Leon sat at the far booth, half-lit by a flickering chandelier. Calm. Too calm.
I watched his hand stir a glass of whiskey, not drinking—just waiting. His eyes lifted once. Brief. Then again, lingering. Right at me.
"Damn it. He knows."
Alfred caught my eye from across the room and gave the smallest nod. We moved, carefully, circling. But Leon… he stood up. Too early. Too smooth.
He paid with cash. Walked past two waitresses. No glance back.
"He’s leaving. I’ll tail." Alfred claimed
We exited seconds after, keeping distance. Leon didn’t head for a car or call a cab. He vanished through the alleys like he had a map I didn’t.
Alfred cursed low.
"He’s leading us in circles. He knows."
By the time we looped back to the main street, we saw it—a car pulling into the private entrance of AI-HQ. And Leon was inside.
Back to HQ. Just like that. He made sure we followed. Let us get close enough to know he knew. And then? Vanished behind walls we couldn’t breach.
I had barely stepped back into HQ when I heard the heavy footfalls behind me. I turned—and there they were.
Agent Leon and beside him, Agent Tiger, his eyes colder than steel.
Agent Leon stepped forward, voice low but laced with venom.
"What the hell do you want, Mike?"
I didn’t answer right away. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend anymore. Not with him.
"Maybe I should be asking you that. What were you doing at Casa LaNo?"
Leon smirked, but there was tension behind it.
"You’ve been following me" More like a statement rather than a question
"Only because you’ve been hiding. Acting like someone with something to lose."
Tiger stepped forward, chest-to-chest with me. His presence alone felt like a threat, but I didn’t back down. Leon raised a hand, signaling him to stay put.
"You think you're the only one allowed secrets, Agent Mike? You don’t know what’s going on. You don’t know who you’re messing with."
"Then tell me. Because from where I’m standing, you’re either covering something up… or you’re working with someone you shouldn’t be."
Leon’s jaw tightened. He stepped closer, his voice dropping.
"Watch yourself. You’re on thin ice. Keep digging, and you’ll end up like your father." Then they started to walked away.
Leon and Tiger had barely turned when I called out, loud enough for it to echo.
"Why were you at the safehouse—the one where President Ford was abducted?"
Both men froze. Leon didn't turn. But Agent Tiger spun around sharply, eyes locked on mine, then to Agent Leon, disbelief etched on his face.
"What the hell did you just say?. What is he talking about?"
The silence between them said more than words. Leon was acting alone.
"You better start talking, Leon. Right now." Tiger continued
Leon didn’t answer. He turned and walked away, faster this time. Tiger didn't follow immediately—he was too busy processing what I'd just exposed. . But I wasn’t about to let him vanish again.
"Why did you kidnap the president, Leon!?"
He stopped. The air thinned instantly. A few heads turned, agents freezing in place mid-conversation. Agent Tiger whipped his head toward me, shocked. Agent Leon spun around. His face twisted in rage.
"You don’t know what the hell you're talking about."
He stormed toward me without a second thought. Before I could prepare myself, his fist came crashing across my jaw.
I stumbled backward into the wall, the taste of blood coating my tongue. Gasps echoed through the hallway. Several agents turned. Some instinctively reached for their comms, others just stared, caught between protocol and the growing firestorm. I wiped the blood from my lip and looked at him again—not with fear, but with clarity.
"That punch tells me more than your silence ever could."
"Keep talking, Morris... and you won’t live long enough to find out who you're really fighting."
He turned, his jaw locked tight, his fists clenched and Agent Tiger follow him.
One by one, agents who had gathered returned to their routines, heads lowered, whispers trailing behind them like smoke. As I took a step forward, the sharp pain from Leon’s punch throbbed across my jaw. I spat again. More blood.
Then I heard the boots. Confident. Lazy. Deliberate. AGENT ROCK appeared at my side, hands in his pockets, smirk carved like a scar.
"That was bold, Morris. Real bold. You just dug your own grave."
"Watch your back."
Then He peeled off into another hallway, disappearing as fast as he came. This place doesn’t protect its own. Not when the truth burns hotter than loyalty.
I walked briskly toward my car, jaw still throbbing from Leon’s punch, heart heavier than ever.
Then— A shuffle. A breath.
Too late.
Two men lunged from behind the pillars—masks on, movements fast and practiced. My instincts kicked in. I blocked the first blow, shoved the attacker into the concrete wall, but the second man circled behind me and jabbed something sharp into my neck Something cold spread down my spine. My limbs slowed. My grip weakened. The world started to tilt.
But I wasn’t done yet. I pulled the small blade hidden in my sleeve and drove it into the nearest man's thigh. He cried out, and both attackers backed off, panicked, dragging the injured one away as they vanished into the shadows. I stumbled, catching myself against a pillar. My vision blurred. Then... footsteps. Slow. Measured. Mocking.
Agent Rock emerged from behind a car, hands in his coat pockets. He glanced at the syringe lying on the ground beside me, then at the blood dripping from my blade.
"Poison. That’s new."
He crouched beside me, inspected the syringe like it was an art piece, then looked at me—no concern in his eyes.
"Looks like someone doesn’t want you talking, Mike." He stood. Dusted his hands.
"Shame. You were getting interesting."
And just like that, he walked away. No help. No backup. My knees buckled. The world spun.
Then— a flashlight beam. Running footsteps. A radio crackling. A guard knelt beside me, shouting something, calling for medical. I couldn’t make out the words.
Everything went black.
AI INFIRMARY
I groaned as the ache in my body reminded me—I was still alive.
My eyes blinked open slowly, and standing at the foot of the bed was Director Leo, arms crossed, eyes fixed on me like he’d been waiting.
"Two days, Agent Mike. You’ve been unconscious for two days."
My throat was dry, but I managed a hoarse,
“Poison…”
"Strong. You were lucky. If that guard hadn’t found you, you’d be in a body bag instead of this bed."
I pushed myself up slowly, the world slightly tilting.
“Who?” I croaked. “Who sent them?” Director Leo gave me a look. Calm. Too calm.
"No clue. CCTV was down. Someone conveniently disabled the parking level’s feed an hour before the incident."
I clenched my jaw.
“And Agent Rock?”
Director’s eyes narrowed.
"He said he found you already collapsed. Claimed he didn’t see the attackers’ faces."
"You believe him?"
Director Leo’s expression didn’t change.
"What I believe doesn’t matter. Without proof, we don’t have anything."
He paused.
"Be careful who you trust. Especially now."
Then he turned and walked out.
The door creaked open.
I didn’t need to turn my head—I knew that walk. Patrick.
He closed the door softly behind him, his voice sharp but low.
"What the hell happened to you, Mike?"
I gave a dry chuckle, wincing as pain jolted through my side.
“Got a love tap from someone who didn’t want me asking questions.” Patrick moved closer, eyes scanning the room before dragging a chair beside my bed.
"You know no one's allowed in here Guards all over. They locked this place down like you're some kind of national asset.Patrick leaned in, his expression darkening.
"Listen, I know you're still digging. I see the way you look at people now—like every agent could be your next lead. Or your next threat."
I didn’t answer. He leaned back, arms crossed.
"I want in."
That got my attention. I looked at him, confused.
“In? Why?”
His gaze was unwavering.
"For Dereck. For Sian. I don’t believe they just... died for nothing. I know something’s off. Too many secrets. Too many cover-ups.
"This goes deep, Patrick. I’m not even sure who’s clean anymore. If you’re in, there’s no stepping back."
Patrick didn’t flinch.
Without a word, he slid something from his coat pocket and handed it to me.A printed image.My heart skipped.
It was from the CCTV footage—grainy, but unmistakable. Me. Fighting off two attackers near the parking lot.
And behind them, standing by a pillar...
Ms. Marsha.
Clear as day. Watching. My breath caught in my throat.
"What the hell…"
Patrick sat down beside me, eyes heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.
"I pulled this from the CCTV backup before someone wiped the main feed. A tech owed me a favor. I didn’t expect to find this." He pointed at the woman in the image.
"It’s her, Mike. Ms. Marsha. She was there. She saw it all."
I couldn’t speak. My fingers tightened around the paper
Patrick continued, his voice quieter now.
"What’s worse… the deletion log shows she was the one who ordered the system purge. Officially, it says “routine maintenance.”
He looked at me, searching for some kind of reaction.
"Why would Marsha want you dead, Mike?"
"I don’t know yet. But I’ll find out."
I folded the photo and slipped it under my mattress.