The air in the dimly lit room was thick with tension. The team sat around a cluttered wooden table in their hideout, their focus sharp, their movements methodical. Tonight was not a night for mistakes. Their plan was in motion, and every detail needed to be executed perfectly.
Hana meticulously checked the disguises and fake IDs spread before her, her fingers gliding over the smooth plastic. The identification cards bore names and designations that would grant them access to the police station. Audrey would be entering as an Internal Affairs investigator, while Kenzo posed as her assistant, an IT specialist assigned to analyze discrepancies in ongoing investigations. Damian, as always, was on standby, ready to provide backup if things went south.
Hana's voice broke the silence. "Everything's set. These should pass a quick scan, but don't linger too long on security checkpoints. Even the best fakes can crack under scrutiny."
Audrey nodded, flipping through the stack of documents. "Good. Let's go over the plan again. We get in, establish credibility, and gain access to Rudy. I lead the conversation, push him just enough to make him nervous, but not enough to raise alarms. Kenzo records everything. Meanwhile, Hana infiltrates the station's system and keeps an eye on the entire building."
Kenzo adjusted his glasses. "The challenge isn't getting in. It's making sure Rudy doesn't suspect he's walking into a trap."
Damian smirked. "And if he does, I'll be happy to rearrange his face."
Audrey shot him a look, but there was no mistaking the edge of amusement in her eyes. "Let's keep this clean, yeah?"
With one final check, they left the hideout. The mission had begun.
The police station was a fortress of authority and corruption, its walls harboring secrets long buried. The air smelled of stale coffee and cigarette smoke, the fluorescent lighting casting a cold glow over the waiting area.
Dressed in a crisp suit and wearing an air of quiet authority, Audrey approached the front desk, her ID held firmly between her fingers. Kenzo stood beside her, his expression unreadable behind his wire-framed glasses.
The officer at the reception barely spared them a glance before muttering, "You're here to see Inspector Rudy?"
Audrey nodded. "Internal Affairs. Tell him it's urgent."
The officer hesitated for a fraction of a second before picking up the phone. A brief conversation later, he gestured for them to proceed. "Third floor, office at the end of the hall."
As they walked past the rows of desks and the occasional curious gaze, Kenzo whispered, "He's going to be on edge the moment we step in."
"Good." Audrey's voice was calm, but there was steel underneath.
Inspector Rudy's office was a cluttered mess, a mix of old case files, half-finished paperwork, and a strong scent of cologne. The man himself sat behind his desk, his fingers drumming against the wooden surface. He was in his mid-forties, with graying hair and eyes that had seen too much.
Audrey gave him a polite nod as she and Kenzo took their seats. "Inspector Rudy, thank you for meeting with us."
He forced a smile, though there was something stiff about it. "Anything for Internal Affairs."
The dance had begun.
Audrey started with harmless questions—general inquiries about his caseload, the pressures of his job, and the increasing crime rates in the district. Rudy answered with well-practiced ease, his words smooth, rehearsed. But Audrey could see the cracks forming beneath the surface—the slight pauses, the way his fingers clenched when he mentioned certain cases.
Then, she subtly shifted the conversation. "You handled the Raka case, didn't you?"
A flicker of something crossed Rudy's face—an almost imperceptible twitch of his jaw. He nodded. "Tragic case. But we did everything by the book."
Kenzo leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. He wasn't just listening—he was seeing. Truths hidden beneath spoken lies.
Audrey took out a folder and flipped it open, her gaze calm, measured. "According to the official report, Raka was shot in an alleyway. You were one of the first responders?"
Rudy hesitated. It was brief, but Audrey caught it. "Yes. We arrived after a neighbor reported gunshots."
A lie.
Kenzo saw it in the way Rudy's gaze flickered. Audrey saw it in the slight tension in his shoulders. The story was rehearsed, polished—but false.
Audrey feigned a thoughtful nod. "And yet, the security footage from the nearby convenience store shows no officers arriving until twenty minutes later. That's quite a gap."
Rudy's jaw tightened. "We were delayed."
Another lie.
Kenzo subtly adjusted the recorder hidden beneath his sleeve, his fingers brushing against his wrist.
Audrey leaned forward slightly, her voice softer now, as if offering an olive branch. "Inspector, I know how difficult these cases can be. But discrepancies like these can make people question what really happened."
Rudy wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "I don't know what you're implying."
"But I think you do," Audrey countered gently, tilting her head. "You see, I went through the case files, and something interesting stood out. The crime scene report states that the victim's body was discovered at exactly 11:45 PM."
Rudy folded his arms, his expression stiff. "That's what the report says, yes."
"And yet," Audrey continued, flipping to another page, "the coroner's statement suggests Raka had already been dead for nearly thirty minutes before officers arrived. So, if your team was the first to respond… how was he dead before you got there?"
Silence.
Kenzo watched as Rudy's fingers, which had been tapping rhythmically against the desk, suddenly stilled.
"That's not unusual," Rudy muttered. "Coroner's reports aren't always exact. Sometimes the estimates are off."
Kenzo spoke for the first time, his voice cool, deliberate. "That would be a reasonable explanation… if the autopsy report hadn't mentioned clear signs of excessive blood loss occurring post-mortem. Meaning someone stayed at the scene long after the gunshot. Someone who made sure he was really dead."
Audrey folded her hands together, meeting Rudy's gaze with quiet intensity. "So, I ask again, Inspector—why was there such a delay?"
Rudy exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching as he reached for the cup of coffee on his desk. He took a sip, but his hand was unsteady, the liquid rippling slightly.
"I don't appreciate being interrogated like a suspect," he muttered.
Audrey smiled, polite but unyielding. "Oh, Inspector, this isn't an interrogation. Just a routine conversation. Unless, of course, you have something to be worried about?"
Rudy let out a forced chuckle. "I've been on the force for over twenty years, Miss—" He glanced at her ID as if reminding himself of her name. "—Hanafi. And I know when someone's fishing."
Kenzo adjusted his glasses, his sharp gaze never leaving Rudy's face. "Then you also know that the truth always comes out. One way or another."
Rudy's grip on his coffee cup tightened. "If you're accusing me of something, I'd advise you to be very careful."
Audrey's smile didn't waver. "No accusations, Inspector. Just questions. But you seem awfully defensive for someone who followed the book."
Another silence stretched between them, heavy, suffocating.
Then Audrey reached into the folder and pulled out a photograph, sliding it across the desk. It was grainy but clear enough—security footage from a different angle. Not from the convenience store, but from a nearby traffic camera. It showed a dark figure in police uniform standing over Raka's body long before backup arrived.
Rudy's face paled.
"You recognize this, don't you?" Audrey's voice was soft but firm.
Rudy barely glanced at the image before shoving it back toward her. "This proves nothing."
"No," Kenzo said, his voice almost amused. "But your reaction does."
Rudy's breath came faster now, his body language shifting from tense to outright defensive. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched.
While Audrey and Kenzo played their careful game of deception, Hana moved through the police station like a shadow. Wearing a nondescript uniform, she walked past officers with confidence, her fingers lightly brushing against unsuspecting minds.
With every touch, she planted new memories, subtle but effective. Officers suddenly believed they had seen her before. Security logs were altered in their minds. Surveillance cameras were no longer a concern—because in the eyes of the station, she had always belonged.
She slipped into the archives, her gaze scanning rows of files and blinking monitors. She reached for a hard drive containing hours of security footage, her powers ensuring that no one would remember seeing her take it.
As she worked, she kept a close mental watch on Inspector Rudy, replaying his memories in her mind. There it was—the moment he pulled the trigger on Raka, the panic that followed, the rushed cover-up.
She had him.
With the stolen footage secured, Hana whispered into the comms, "We have everything we need. Wrap it up."
Back in Rudy's office, Audrey let the silence stretch just long enough to make him squirm. Then she smiled politely. "You seem tense, Inspector. Something on your mind?"
Rudy's hands were shaking now. "I think we're done here."
Kenzo chuckled, low and knowing. "You sure? We could always go over the details again."
The inspector shot to his feet, knocking over a cup of coffee in his haste. "I said we're done."
Audrey stood, straightening her coat. "Of course, Inspector. We appreciate your time."
As she and Kenzo exited, she stole one last glance at the man behind the desk.
He was terrified.
And that meant they had already won.
Outside the police station, Damian was waiting, leaning casually against a car. "How'd it go?"
Audrey exhaled. "Better than expected. He's going to crack soon."
Hana handed over the stolen files. "And when he does, we'll be ready."
Kenzo looked down at the memory drive in his palm, the weight of it heavier than it should have been.
They were one step closer.
One step closer to the truth.
And one step closer to vengeance.
The old sedan hummed as it cut through the dimly lit streets, the tension of the mission still thick in the air. Damian's hands rested loosely on the wheel, his usual smirk in place, but there was an edge to it—a readiness for whatever came next.
Kenzo exhaled, stretching out in the seat. "That was fun."
Audrey shot him a dry look. "You call that fun?"
Kenzo shrugged. "I mean, getting in was easy. Watching Rudy sweat? Very satisfying."
Hana chuckled from the backseat. "Yeah? Well, I had to erase and rewrite about a dozen minds tonight. You don't hear me bragging."
Damian snorted. "Because you're not as dramatic as Kenzo."
Kenzo placed a hand over his heart. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Audrey sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Look, before we all pat ourselves on the back—this isn't over. Rudy's terrified, which means he'll start making desperate moves."
Hana leaned forward, her voice quieter. "And desperate people make mistakes."
A beat of silence.
Damian took a sharp turn, the neon lights of the city flickering across the windshield. "Alright, enough doom and gloom. Who's hungry?"
Audrey groaned. "If you suggest—"
"Tukang nasi goreng," Damian said, grinning.
*Tukang Nasi Goreng: Street Vendor Selling Fried Rice*
Kenzo laughed. "You have a problem, man."
Hana smirked. "Let him have his comfort food. We just took a massive risk, the least we deserve is a good meal."
Damian glanced at the rearview mirror, his expression turning serious for a split second. "Yeah. Let's enjoy it while we can."
The car rolled to a stop at a red light. Outside, the city buzzed with life—oblivious to the storm that was brewing.
Kenzo rolled the flash drive between his fingers, his voice calm but laced with something heavier.
"We got what we needed."
Audrey met his gaze, her lips pressing into a determined line.
"Now it's time for Phase One."
The light turned green.
The car sped forward, disappearing into the night.