The warehouse loomed on the city's edge, a hulking beast of corrugated metal and flickering security lights, the kind of place where shadows played tricks and every creak sounded like trouble. Alex crouched behind a rusted dumpster, the salt-tang of the river mixing with the stink of old oil, his ribs still smarting from Ironclad's love tap. The squad spread out—Mia hacking the perimeter cams from a van down the block, Jax lurking like a bear in the bushes, Lila perched on a nearby rooftop, her silhouette sharp against the starry sky. Midnight air nipped at his skin, but the real chill came from the system prompt burning in his head: slip the decoy logs to the Dorks. Reward some slick misdirection skill, failure a clown makeup tutorial that'd haunt his nightmares.
He'd rigged the decoy earlier, a fake tablet stuffed with bogus routes—harmless, but enough to send Caleb's crew chasing ghosts. The guilt gnawed at him, a slow burn, but what choice did he have? The system didn't ask; it demanded, and ignoring it last time had left him jittery, like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Lila's voice crackled in his earpiece, steady as ever. "Clear on my end. No sign of the drop yet. You okay down there?"
"Yeah," Alex whispered back, his breath fogging the night. "Just... thinking." About her, mostly—how her trust felt like a lifeline in this mess, but one he kept fraying with secrets. She'd given him that look after the briefing, like she wanted to believe him, and it made his chest tighten in ways that had nothing to do with bruises.
Before he could dwell, engines growled in the distance. Headlights sliced the dark, a convoy of trucks rumbling toward the warehouse doors. Vortex's tech haul—gadgets that could turn the tide in his favor. Mia's drone buzzed overhead, silent as a ghost, relaying feeds. "Guards at the gates," she murmured. "Ten, armed. Drop's happening now."
Jax's grin was audible. "Time to crash the party."
They moved in sync, years of drills kicking in. Alex slipped through a side fence, his implant feeding him quiet paths, while Jax barreled through a weak spot, drawing fire with a whoop that echoed like a challenge. Gunshots popped, muffled by silencers, and Lila's rifle spoke back, picking off threats with pinpoint cracks. Alex's heart raced, adrenaline sharp and sweet, but a new shadow slithered in—Caleb's voice, hissing from the bushes.
"Thorne? What the—Delta's got this!"
Alex spun, spotting the Dorks piling out of a beat-up SUV, Caleb leading the charge like he owned the night. Tessa's gadgets whirred, Rico melted into the dark, and Finn cracked his knuckles with a laugh that grated. "Told you they'd horn in," Jax growled over comms, dodging a guard's swing.
Caleb smirked, ducking behind a crate as bullets pinged nearby. "Board tipped us. You amateurs can watch."
Alex's temper flared—amateurs? After Ironclad? But the system nudged: now's the time. He "stumbled" toward Caleb, faking a slip on loose gravel, and pressed the decoy tablet into his hand. "Here—logs from Ironclad. Take 'em, just help us shut this down."
Caleb snatched it, eyes widening like he'd hit gold. "Finally seeing sense, Thorne?" He barked orders, and the Dorks surged forward—Tessa's drone clashing with Mia's in a mid-air tangle of sparks and whines, Rico tripping over his own feet in the rush, landing face-first in mud with a splat that drew muffled laughs from Jax.
"Ghost my ass," Jax snorted, hauling Rico up before a guard spotted him. Finn charged a truck, his explosive charge going off too early, showering everyone in harmless foam that stuck like glue. "Not again!" Finn yelped, flailing as foam hardened into a bubbly mess.
Mia cursed over the line. "Their drone's jamming mine—wait, Tessa? Is that a heart emoji on your hack code?" Tessa flushed, caught in her crush on Jax, her gadget sparking wildly. The chaos turned the warehouse into a farce—guards confused, firing blindly as Dorks and Shadow tangled in foam and mud.
Alex dove for the main truck, heart pounding, his implant pulling a quick lockpick trick. Inside, crates of tech gleamed—drones, enhancers, stuff that screamed Vortex. He grabbed samples, but a guard loomed, rifle raised. Lila's shot took him down, clean and quiet. "Got you," she said, voice warm in his ear.
The drop shut down in a blur—trucks disabled, guards zip-tied, Dorks claiming half the credit in their foam-coated glory. Caleb clutched the decoy, smug as ever. "See? Teamwork."
Back at the van, the squad piled in, mud-streaked and breathless. Jax howled with laughter. "Did you see Finn? Looked like a walking bath bomb!" Mia chuckled, but her eyes lingered on Tessa's retreating figure, a mix of annoyance and pity.
Lila squeezed Alex's hand in the dark, quick and secret. "You handed him those logs. Why?"
He met her gaze, the truth bubbling up—system, secrets, all of it. But he held back, whispering, "To keep them busy. Trust me?"
She searched his face, then nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. The van rumbled on, the city's lights blurring past, but Alex's mind raced ahead. The system chimed a reward, but the real win was this moment—squad solid, rivals chasing shadows. For now, it felt enough. But tomorrow? That was another story.