INN HQ – EXECUTIVE LEVEL – PRE-DAWN
The executive level absorbs the Oversight transmission like a body absorbing trauma—quietly, efficiently, without visible bleeding.
But the damage is real.
Charles Livingston remains motionless long after the secure channel terminates. The holographic seal of the Oversight Committee fades, leaving only ambient data streams and the low mechanical breath of the building.
He loosens his tie—not out of comfort, but necessity.
Susan stands nearby, reviewing cascading political projections on her tablet. Approval curves. Risk assessments. Media volatility indexes.
All trending downward.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:They're not trying to shut us down yet.
Charles doesn't look at her.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:They're waiting for us to make a mistake.
Susan nods once.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Which means they expect us to freeze.
That gets his attention.
Charles turns.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:And if we don't?
Susan finally looks up.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Then they'll call it insubordination instead of incompetence.
A beat.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:But they'll still be alive to argue about it.
Charles exhales slowly.
This is why he keeps her close—not because she's aggressive, but because she sees beyond fear.
---
INN HQ – LOWER OPERATIONS – ARMORY ACCESS CORRIDOR
Jaxon walks alone through the subdued glow of biometric panels.
His reflection follows him in the polished black walls—older than it used to be, sharper around the eyes.
Every step forward feels heavier than the last.
The Neuro-Link hum beneath his skin syncs with his heartbeat. Not overriding. Not activating.
Listening.
A technician clears him silently for restricted access.
No one asks questions.
They already know.
---
INN HQ – OBSERVATION GALLERY (OVERLOOKING OPERATIONS FLOOR)
Susan watches Jaxon from above.
She shouldn't.
But she does.
Below, the operations floor is alive—agents coordinating, analysts chasing shadows, command staff pretending this is just another crisis.
Susan knows better.
This one is personal.
She closes her tablet and heads down.
---
INN HQ – TRAINING CHAMBER
Jaxon stands near the weapons rack, running a quiet systems check.
Susan enters without announcing herself.
[JAXON STEEL]:If you're here to stop me—
[SUSAN THOMAS]:I'm here to make sure you don't die doing something noble and stupid.
That earns the faintest exhale from him. Almost a laugh.
[JAXON STEEL]:Then you're late.
She steps closer, lowering her voice instinctively.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Hydra upgraded their containment tech. Lopez isn't just being held—he's being mapped. Studied. Conditioned.
Jaxon's jaw tightens.
[JAXON STEEL]:They're turning him into leverage.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Or a prototype.
That lands harder.
Jaxon turns fully toward her now.
[JAXON STEEL]:I won't let that happen.
Susan holds his gaze.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:I know.
A pause stretches between them.
Not romantic.
Intimate in a quieter way.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:You don't carry this alone, Jaxon. Even if you walk alone out there.
He studies her—really studies her.
[JAXON STEEL]:You always say the right thing without promising anything.
Susan considers that.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Because promises get people killed.
Another beat.
[JAXON STEEL]:What happens if this goes wrong?
Susan doesn't evade.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Then I'll testify that you acted without authorization.
She steps closer, lowering her voice further.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:And I'll make sure the truth survives long enough to matter.
That's her version of care.
And Jaxon understands it.
---
HYDRA BLACK FACILITY – SUBLEVEL TRANSIT CORE
Agent Lopez is conscious now.
Barely.
His restraints shift dynamically with his neural activity—anticipating movement before it happens.
A transparent interface scrolls data beside him.
Heart rate. Cognitive stress. Resistance markers.
A Hydra technician watches with professional fascination.
[HYDRA TECH]:He's still fighting it.
Vangor Drale steps into frame.
He studies Lopez like a chess piece not yet moved.
VANGOR DRALE:The ones who resist longest are always the most valuable.
Lopez's eyes flicker toward him.
[LOPEZ] (weak, defiant):You're afraid… of what we represent.
Vangor smiles thinly.
VANGOR DRALE:No, Agent.
VANGOR DRALE:I'm afraid of what you could become without us.
He turns away.
VANGOR DRALE:Prepare the convoy.
---
INN HQ – STRATEGIC WAR ROOM
The unofficial briefing tightens.
Susan's projections adjust in real time.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:If Hydra detects intervention, they'll accelerate relocation. We have a narrow insertion window—eight minutes.
An agent shifts uncomfortably.
[FIELD ANALYST]:And Oversight?
Charles answers without hesitation.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:Oversight doesn't exist for the next eight minutes.
The room absorbs that.
No cheers.
No defiance.
Just acceptance.
Charles turns to Jaxon.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:This isn't a rescue mission.
[JAXON STEEL]:I know.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:This is containment. Extraction. Denial.
Jaxon nods.
[JAXON STEEL]:Lopez comes home.
Charles holds his gaze.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:Then come back alive.
A rare thing for him to say.
---
INN HQ – MEDICAL WING – QUIET CORRIDOR
Susan hands Jaxon additional gear—unmarked, unlogged.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:Signal dampeners. Hydra won't see you coming—but they'll feel you once you're there.
Jaxon slips them into place.
[JAXON STEEL]:You're very calm.
Susan meets his eyes.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:If I panic, everyone else will.
A pause.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:And because… I trust you.
That lands.
Jaxon's voice lowers.
[JAXON STEEL]:That's dangerous.
Susan's lips curve—barely.
[SUSAN THOMAS]:So is everything worth doing.
They stand there a moment longer than necessary.
Then—
Professional distance snaps back into place.
---
INN HQ – EXECUTIVE LEVEL – MEDIA MONITORING BAY
News feeds explode.
"INN UNDER FIRE" "OVERSIGHT COMMITTEE INTERVENES" "NEURO-LINK SCANDAL DEEPENS"
Advisors argue quietly.
Charles watches in silence.
An agent approaches.
[AGENT]:Sir… if Steel is compromised—
Charles doesn't turn.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:Then history will ask why I chose people over perception.
He finally looks at the screen again.
[CHARLES LIVINGSTON]:And I'm prepared to answer.
---
NIGHT SKY – UNMARKED INSERTION POINT
The transport opens.
Wind roars.
Darkness yawns below.
Jaxon steps to the edge.
For a split second, his mind flashes—not tactics, not danger—
Susan's steady voice.
Lopez's stubborn grin.
An agency straining to hold itself together.
Then—
He jumps.
The night swallows him.
Below, Hydra's convoy moves like a vein of light through darkness.
Above, political pressure tightens.
Between them—
A single fault line fractures into motion.
TO BE CONTINUED..
---