23:57 PM | NPU Rooftop Helipad, North Metro
The night air whipped across the rooftop like something alive, sharp and cold enough to make Adrian's eyes water. It carried with it the distant hum of Metro City below traffic, sirens, life continuing completely unaware of what was about to happen.
Marcus shifted uneasily as he followed Garrick toward the waiting helicopter, hands shoved deep in his jacket pockets. His boots clicked against the helipad's steel grid, each step echoing far louder than it should have in the open space. Adrian trailed a few paces behind, jaw tight, mentally running through the mission plan for probably the thousandth time.
The helicopter loomed ahead of them—matte black, sleek, its blades idling in slow rotation that made a low whup-whup-whup sound. Under the helipad's harsh floodlights, the machine gleamed like something out of a military thriller.
Adrian caught Marcus's expression as they approached: wide-eyed awe mixed with barely-concealed nervousness, a boyish curiosity peeking through his otherwise carefully maintained calm exterior.
Right. It was Marcus's first time on a helicopter.
Adrian almost smirked despite himself. Of course Marcus would be fascinated. Who wouldn't be, really? The first time Adrian had flown, he'd spent the entire ride pressed against the window like an overeager kid.
"Quit staring at it like it's your prom date," Garrick barked from the cockpit, already running through pre-flight checks with practiced efficiency. "It's a ride, not a damn rollercoaster."
Marcus muttered something under his breath probably something unflattering and tugged his jacket tighter against the wind. Adrian leaned closer, speaking just loud enough to cut through the rotor noise.
"You'll get used to it," he said. Then, because he couldn't help himself: "Just don't puke on my boots. These are expensive."
Marcus shot him a look: half annoyed, half amused, before ducking into the cabin with the careful movements of someone trying very hard not to look nervous.
Adrian followed, sliding into the seat directly opposite and strapping himself in as the rotors picked up speed with a rising whine. The helicopter shuddered beneath them, lifted slightly, then rose smoothly into the night sky.
00:52 PM | Airborne, En Route to South Metro
The cabin smelled like fuel and old leather and something vaguely metallic that Adrian had never quite identified. Marcus gripped his seat as the helicopter lurched upward, and Adrian saw his knuckles go white for just a second before he deliberately relaxed his hands.
Through the window, Metro City fell away beneath them: buildings shrinking rapidly to the size of toys, streets becoming glowing veins of light spreading across the darkness. It was honestly beautiful, in that impersonal way cities always were from high up.
Adrian leaned back, trying to let the steady thrum of the rotors settle his nerves. His wrist still twinged faintly from their last operation, he'd twisted it badly during an extraction two weeks ago and it hadn't quite healed right. Tonight promised considerably worse.
Marcus pressed his forehead against the window, eyes wide as skyscrapers slid beneath them like some surreal dream. Adrian watched him for a moment, then couldn't resist another jab.
"What's next, you gonna ask the pilot if you can fly it?"
Marcus didn't look away from the window, but Adrian saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Just..." He paused, breath fogging slightly against the glass. "Never seen the city like this before." Another pause, longer this time. "Kinda makes you wonder what the hell we're risking all this for."
Adrian didn't answer immediately. He knew the answer, they both did, really. But he also knew Marcus wasn't actually asking him. It was one of those questions people threw into the void when they needed to hear themselves say it out loud.
"Focus." Elias's voice crackled suddenly through Adrian's earpiece, calm and firm in that particular way that meant he was probably chain-smoking in the command center. "Garrick will drop you in South Metro at 00:03. Marcus enters first using his employee credentials. Adrian, you wait for his all-clear signal before beginning your approach. No improvising."
"Sure thing, Captain," Adrian muttered, unable to keep the slight edge out of his voice. He hated when Elias pre-empted him like that, as if reckless idiot was tattooed across his forehead in permanent ink.
Though, to be fair, his track record probably justified Elias's concern.
[A/N: Night operations allow for faster flight speeds due to reduced air traffic and visual concealment. The helicopter is traveling at approximately double the speed of the daytime reconnaissance flight in Chapter 1-2, cutting the usual 32-minute journey to roughly 16 minutes.]
01:03 AM | South Metro Landing Zone
The helicopter descended in a tight spiral that made Adrian's stomach lurch slightly, skids kissing down onto a deserted rooftop parking structure in South Metro with barely a bump. Garrick was an excellent pilot, even if his personality left something to be desired.
This neighborhood was quieter than Metro's neon-drenched core: buildings more corporate, more sterile, more we have excellent lawyers energy. Nexo Pharmaceutical's glass towers glimmered in the near distance, their logos glowing faint blue against the night like something out of a cyberpunk film.
Adrian unclipped his harness with practiced efficiency. Marcus fumbled with his strap for a moment: his hands were shaking slightly, Adrian noticed, before finally freeing himself.
"Eyes up," Garrick growled, jerking his chin toward the towers. "That's your playground. Don't screw around in there."
They disembarked into the cold night air. Marcus straightened his jacket with careful deliberation, smoothed his hair, and visibly forced himself to adopt the casual gait of a tired employee heading back in for late-night work. His ID badge swung lightly against his chest, catching the ambient light.
Adrian watched him descend the stairwell and vanish into the streets below, and hated every second of it. Letting Marcus go in alone felt fundamentally wrong, but the plan demanded it. One person could slip through. Two would trigger questions.
Logic didn't make it suck any less.
01:07 AM | Nexo Pharmaceuticals, South Metro Gate
Marcus approached the security turnstiles with his heart absolutely hammering in his chest, loud enough that he was half-convinced the guards could hear it. The glass facade of Nexo loomed above him: sterile, cold, unforgiving. Corporate architecture designed specifically to make people feel small.
He adjusted his ID lanyard with fingers that only trembled slightly, then flashed it to the bored-looking security guard manning the scanner station.
"Long night," Marcus offered, voice carefully casual. Not too friendly, not too nervous. Just tired.
The guard barely glanced up from whatever he'd been reading on his phone. The scanner beeped green. "Floor?"
"Two. Data analysis."
The guard waved him through with the enthusiasm of someone who'd been doing this job for far too long. Marcus exhaled silently and pressed forward into Nexo's sterile halls.
His shoes squeaked faintly against polished marble floors god, could he walk any louder? as he made his way to the elevator bank. He tapped his ID again at the access panel. Another green flash. The doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss.
He stepped inside, alone, and his thumb trembled slightly as he keyed the second floor.
The doors closed. The elevator rose.
Marcus pressed his back against the wall and tried to remember how to breathe normally.
01:22 AM | Exterior, Nexo Pharmaceuticals
Adrian crouched in the shadows of a service alley about half a block from Nexo's main entrance, eyes fixed on the building's illuminated facade. His earpiece crackled softly.
"Inside," Marcus's voice came through, quiet but steady. "Floor two. Heading to the access terminal now. Give me five minutes to activate the patch."
Adrian flexed his hands, gripping the grapple gun tighter than strictly necessary. His pulse thrummed steadily in his ears. He absolutely hated waiting. Action he could handle. Patience? Not his strongest quality.
"Patience," Elias's voice cut through like a knife. Adrian could practically hear him frowning through the comm. "Patch activates at exactly 01:15. You go too early, you blow the entire operation."
"Yeah, yeah," Adrian muttered, sighting the upper floors and calculating approach vectors.
Four minutes passed. Then five. Then six.
"Alright," Marcus finally whispered, and Adrian could hear the tension singing through his voice. "Patch is active. SentinelGrid recalibrated to 200 pounds. You're clear to proceed."
"Finally."
Adrian raised the grapple gun, aimed for a window frame on the third floor, and fired.
The hook shot upward with a metallic thwip, clanging against the frame. It slid loose immediately.
"Shit," Adrian hissed, reeling it back in.
He fired again. This time the hook bounced off entirely, falling back toward him.
By the third attempt, sweat beaded at his temples despite the cold air. The hook finally caught, the line going taut with a satisfying snap. Adrian tested it with a hard tug. Solid enough.
He began climbing, hand over hand, boots scraping against the glass exterior.
01:22 AM | Floor 3 Window Access
Adrian swung his body toward the third-floor window, building momentum, then drove both boots forward with all the force he could manage.
The glass shattered with a muted crash, not as loud as he'd feared, but loud enough to make his heart skip. Alarms didn't sound. Not yet. Nexo's outer windows weren't alarmed the same way as the interior. Small mercies.
He slipped through the broken window carefully, mindful of the jagged edges, and crouched low inside. His heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape.
The office space smelled sharply of industrial disinfectant and recycled air. Desks stood in neat, soulless rows. Screens dark. Papers aligned with corporate precision. Everything about it screamed we are very normal and definitely not doing crimes.
Adrian padded softly across the carpet, every sense strained to maximum alertness, and moved toward the interior stairwell. The door handle creaked faintly when he touched it he froze, but nothing happened then slipped through and began climbing upward toward the fourth floor.
Every single creak of the stairs sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
01:32 AM | Floor 4, Archives Room
Marcus's borrowed keycard—carefully duplicated from security footage weeks ago—slid smoothly into the Archives access reader. Adrian held his breath.
Click.
Green light.
The lock disengaged with a soft mechanical sound.
Adrian pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the faint squeal of hinges, and stepped inside.
The Archives room was noticeably colder than the rest of the building, the air humming faintly from server equipment tucked against the walls. Tall filing cabinets lined the center of the space—steel and matte black, their drawers labeled in sterile alphanumeric codes that probably meant something to someone. The whole room smelled faintly of dust, ozone, and buried secrets.
Adrian's breath fogged slightly in the cold air as he moved deeper into the room. He pulled open the first cabinet with careful deliberation.
Files. Seven thick folders, specifically. Each one stamped with Nexo's corporate insignia, edges worn from repeated handling.
"Seven files," Adrian muttered into his mic, stacking them methodically under his arm. "Like they gift-wrapped them for us. How considerate."
Marcus's voice buzzed back immediately, tight with tension. "Don't get cocky. Just grab them and get out. You've got—" Static crackled, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Adrian frowned. "Marcus? Say again?"
More static, then fragments: "—server interference—frequency—"
"Marcus, you're breaking up."
Nothing. Just electronic noise.
Adrian cursed under his breath. Of course Nexo would have high-functioning digital servers that played hell with communication frequencies. Should've expected that.
He shook it off and kept working, flipping through one of the folders. Classified reports. Official signatures he definitely recognized. Names of politicians, law enforcement officials, corporate executives. Enough documented corruption to drown half the city in scandal.
"You're quiet," Marcus's voice suddenly cut back in, clearer now but edged with concern.
"Just thinking," Adrian replied, still scanning pages, "how easy it'd be to torch all this. One lighter. Poof. Problem solved."
"Don't." Elias's voice cut in sharply. "Focus on extraction."
Adrian shut the file with more force than necessary and slid it back into the stack under his arm. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Evidence first, arson later."
He had no idea how much time had passed. Ten minutes? Twenty? The cold room made everything feel suspended, timeless.
He moved back toward the door, files secured, already mentally plotting his exit route.
That's when Marcus's voice exploded through the comms, frantic and breaking up with interference.
"Adrian—" Static. "—time limit—AI detection—patch compromised—"
Adrian's blood went cold. "What? Say it again!"
Heavy static, then just fragments: "—GET OUT—NOW—"
01:38 AM | Archives Room - ALARM ACTIVATION
The room flooded red.
For one single, frozen heartbeat, Adrian just stood there, files clutched against his chest, his brain absolutely refusing to process what was happening.
Then the sirens started howling—loud, mechanical, endless. Strobing lights turned everything into a nightmare disco. Heavy boots thundered in the corridor outside.
"Fuck."
Adrian bolted for the door.
The first security guard burst through the stairwell entrance just as Adrian reached it. They collided hard, both of them stumbling.
Adrian recovered first, drove his elbow up into the guard's jaw with a sickening crack. They grappled—the guard was bigger, heavier, angrier—and twisted Adrian's injured wrist with brutal efficiency.
White-hot agony shot up Adrian's arm. He gasped, vision swimming, but rammed his knee upward hard enough to make the guard grunt and stagger backward.
Adrian staggered back himself, gasping for air. His wrist screamed white-hot agony where the guard had twisted it. He flexed his fingers experimentally—they moved, barely. Not broken. Just spectacularly fucked.
He didn't wait to see if the guard stayed down. Just ran.
"Reckless!" Elias roared through the earpiece. "Get out, NOW!"
"Working on it!" Adrian shouted back, sprinting down the corridor, lungs already burning.
He crashed into the stairwell, descended to floor three at a pace that was probably suicidal, and dove through the shattered window he'd entered from.
The night air swallowed him whole.
01:42 AM | Exterior Escape
Adrian landed hard on the adjacent rooftop—rolled to absorb impact, kept running. His wrist was on fire, his chest heaving, but stopping wasn't an option. Behind him, searchlights swept across building facades. Guards shouted into radios, their voices overlapping into chaos.
He vaulted one rooftop edge, landed on the next with jarring impact that rattled his teeth. Kept going. Another jump. And another. His lungs felt like they were tearing themselves apart.
Finally, he reached a narrow gap between two buildings—too narrow to jump, too wide to ignore. He pressed his back flat against one wall, boots braced against the opposite, and began sliding downward.
Friction tore at his jacket immediately. Leather screeched against concrete. Heat built rapidly until it burned through fabric to skin. Adrian grit his teeth so hard something popped in his jaw.
The smell of burning leather filled his nose, mixing with something that might've been his own skin. His back felt like someone was dragging a blowtorch across it.
He hit the ground hard, rolled, gasped for air. When he touched his back experimentally, his hand came away slick with blood and sweat. The jacket hung in charred, tattered shreds.
"Fantastic," he wheezed. "There goes two hundred dollars."
01:48 AM | South Metro Streets
The street outside Nexo had devolved into absolute chaos. Security guards were corralling workers, barking orders, herding people like frightened livestock during an active shooter drill. Marcus stood among the crowd, head lowered, hands raised in careful compliance. Just another scared employee caught in a lockdown. Nothing to see here.
Then he looked up. His eyes found Adrian in the shadows across the street.
Their gazes met for exactly one second.
Marcus shook his head. Barely perceptible. Don't.
His voice crackled through the comms one final time, faint but terrifyingly steady for a man with single-digit survival odds. "Leave me. The AI flagged my patch. They know someone's inside the system. I'll message when I'm clear. Just go."
Adrian's chest tightened painfully. His throat closed up. "Like hell I—"
The line went dead. Marcus had cut it deliberately.
Adrian stood frozen in the shadows, files clutched against his chest, watching security guards surround Marcus. Every single instinct he possessed screamed at him to go back. To do something, anything.
But he couldn't. Not without blowing the entire operation. Not without getting them both killed and losing the evidence.
So Adrian did the only thing he could do.
He ran.
And hated himself for it with every step he took.
01:52 AM | Extraction Point Approach
He spotted salvation in the form of a public electric bike dock. Adrian sprinted toward it, fingers fumbling desperately on the electronic lock come on come on come on...until the mechanism finally clicked and hummed to life.
He mounted the bike, pedaling hard, weaving through dark alleys and side streets. His lungs burned. His wrist screamed. His back felt like raw meat.
"Stupid," he muttered to himself between gasps for air. "Stealing a goddamn public bike for a black-ops extraction. Real subtle tradecraft, Adrian. Top marks."
The city blurred past. Ahead, the extraction tower loomed. Garrick's helicopter waiting on the rooftop. Rotors already spinning in anticipation. Adrian skidded the bike to a graceless stop, abandoned it completely, and bolted for the building's stairwell entrance. He climbed stairs two at a time, lungs tearing themselves apart, vision swimming at the edges.
02:01 AM | Extraction Rooftop, South Metro
The helicopter thundered above him, close enough to feel the rotor wash whipping his shredded jacket around. Garrick leaned halfway out, scowling impressively.
"Get in here, you menace!"
Adrian didn't have breath left for a witty response. He just leapt, caught the helicopter's skid with his good hand, and hauled himself into the cabin with the last dregs of adrenaline-fueled strength.
He collapsed into the seat, chest heaving violently, sweat and blood streaking his face. Everything hurt. His wrist throbbed in time with his heartbeat. His back felt like someone had flayed it with a cheese grater.
"Rough night?" Garrick asked dryly, already pulling them into the air.
Adrian shot him the most murderous glare he could manage while gasping for oxygen. "Drive."
02:07 AM | NPU Rooftop Helipad, North Metro
The helicopter settled back onto the rooftop where this whole nightmare had begun two hours and twenty minutes ago. Adrian staggered out on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else entirely, boots heavy, body screaming protest at every movement.
Garrick followed, muttering creative curses under his breath about reckless field agents and hazard pay.
Adrian tilted his head back, staring at Metro City's skyline. Sirens still echoed faintly in the distance. Marcus was still inside Nexo, surrounded by guards, with a <7% survival rate hanging over his head like a guillotine. Elias was ominously silent on the comms.
Adrian's earpiece crackled suddenly. Static. Then Elias's voice, quiet and carefully controlled: "Status?"
Adrian looked down at the files still clutched in his bloody, shaking hands. Seven folders. Enough documented evidence to bring down Nexo's entire operation. Proof of corruption that reached into law enforcement, government, corporate boardrooms.
And all it had cost was Marcus
"Mission accomplished," Adrian said flatly. The words tasted like ash and guilt and burning leather and failure.
He stood there on the rooftop helipad, wind whipping around him, city sprawling below completely unaware of what had just happened in its shadows, and knew with absolute certainty that this was only the beginning.