The knock came again—three soft, deliberate taps.
Elara's grip tightened on the multi-tool, blade out, thumb on the edge. Kai stood motionless by the door, pistol low and ready. His face was calm—too calm—the calm of someone who'd done this before."Ms. Nyx," the voice repeated through the door. British accent, trained to sound polite. "We know you have the fragment. Open up. Let's discuss terms."Kai's eyes met hers. Silent question: Run or fight?
Elara shook her head once. No running. Not yet. Kai slid to the side of the door, back against the wall. He gestured: stay low. Elara crouched behind the table, heart hammering but steady. Another knock.
Then silence.
Then the soft click of a lockpick sliding into the deadbolt. They were coming in. The door eased inward—slow, cautious.
A figure stepped through: tall, black suit, no visible weapon. Behind him, two more—tactical vests, suppressed rifles raised, red laser dots dancing across the floor. The lead man smiled—thin, practiced. "Ms. Nyx. Mr. Reyes. Impressive work tonight. But the ledger stays with us."Kai's voice was low, even. "Step back. Close the door. Or we end this here."The man tilted his head. "You won't shoot. Too many witnesses downstairs. Too much noise."Elara stood slowly, multi-tool still in hand. "Then let's keep it quiet."The smile widened. "Reasonable. Hand over the wallet. We'll leave. No harm."Kai didn't move. "You know we won't."The man sighed, almost theatrical. "Then we do this the hard way."He nodded. The two armed men advanced, rifles sweeping. Elara acted first. She flung the multi-tool—blade spinning end over end—straight at the lead man's face. He flinched, ducked. The tool clattered against the wall, embedding in drywall with a dull thunk.Kai fired—two quick, suppressed shots. The first caught the left guard in the shoulder; he spun, rifle clattering. The second grazed the right guard's vest, knocking him back. The room exploded into motion. Elara dove behind the couch as bullets chewed through the table—wood splintering, shards flying. She tasted dust and gunpowder. Ears ringing . Kai rolled to the side, firing again—precise, controlled. One guard dropped, clutching his leg. The other returned fire, rounds stitching across the wall above Kai's head. The lead man lunged for the table—straight for the cold wallet still in its dock . Elara kicked out from cover, boot slamming into his shin. He grunted, stumbled forward, crashing against the table. The wallet skittered toward the edge. She scrambled up, grabbing the nearest chair—solid wood, heavy. She swung it two-handed, full weight behind it. The chair cracked against the man's arm with a sickening snap. He howled, arm dangling useless. Kai finished the wounded guard with a single shot to the chest—clean, final. The man crumpled. The lead man recovered faster than expected—lunging at Elara with his good arm, grabbing for her throat. Elara twisted, using his momentum. She drove her knee into his midsection—hard, sharp. Air whooshed out of him. He doubled over. Kai was there in an instant—pistol butt cracking against the man's temple. The leader dropped like a stone, unconscious. Silence fell—sudden, ringing. Broken only by the drip of blood from the splintered table and their ragged breathing. Kai stood over the bodies, pistol still raised, eyes sweeping the room. Then he looked at Elara—checking for wounds, for shock."You okay?" he asked, voice rough. She nodded, chest heaving. "Yeah. You?"He gave a tight nod, then holstered the pistol. "We go. Now."He grabbed the cold wallet, the laptop, the USB. Elara looked at the carnage—the blood, the broken chair, the three men down. Then at Kai. He offered his hand. She took it—fingers linking tight. They left the safe house behind—door hanging open, alarms silent now, city lights waiting below. The night wasn't done with them.