The alarm screamed at 4:00 AM.
Zeph groaned, burying his face in a pillow that smelled like stale beer and cheap perfume. He flailed an arm out, knocking a half-eaten pizza box onto the floor.
"Up," a voice said, sharp and clear.
Zeph peeled one eye open. Kaelen was already dressed. Black tactical gear, boots laced tight, a data-pad glowing in his hand. He looked like he'd been awake for hours. He probably had been.
"Five more minutes," Zeph mumbled into the mattress. "I'm having a dream about a yacht."
"We launch in thirty," Kaelen said, walking over and ripping the blanket off. "Get up. Or I leave you."
Zeph shivered in the cold morning air. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "You say that every time. You never do."
Kaelen didn't answer. He was already packing his bag. A stun baton, a coil of rope, two nutrient bars. Precise. Organized. Boring.
Zeph dragged himself out of bed. He found his pants on the floor and pulled them on. He looked at Kaelen's back. "You know, one day I'm gonna be the one waking you up. I'm gonna be the responsible one."
Kaelen snorted. "The day you're responsible is the day the sun explodes."
An hour later, they were crouched on a rooftop overlooking the Sector 4 Industrial District.
Rain slicked the metal roof, making it slippery. Below them, massive automated trucks rumbled through the streets, carrying crates of valuable tech components.
"Target is the third truck," Kaelen whispered, adjusting his scope. "It's carrying a prototype processor. High value. High security."
"How high?" Zeph asked, checking his own gear—a rusty grappling hook and a pair of shock-gloves he'd bought from a shady mechanic.
"Two drones. Three guards inside. Automated turrets on the roof."
Zeph whistled low. "Spicy."
"We have a window of twelve seconds," Kaelen continued. "When it turns the corner onto 5th Street, the sensors reset. That's when we drop."
"Got it," Zeph said, stretching his arms. "Drop, grab, run. Easy."
"Stick to the plan, Zeph," Kaelen warned, not looking up from his scope. "No improvisation. No showing off."
"I am a professional," Zeph said, offended.
The truck turned the corner.
"Now!" Kaelen hissed.
They jumped.
Wind roared in Zeph's ears. He loved this part. The freefall. The rush.
They landed on the roof of the moving truck with a heavy thud.
Kaelen moved instantly. He pulled a device from his belt and slapped it onto the roof hatch. It buzzed, cutting through the metal lock in seconds.
"In," Kaelen ordered.
They dropped into the cargo hold. It was dark, lit only by the red glow of security lights. Rows of crates lined the walls.
"Jackpot," Zeph whispered. He moved toward the nearest crate.
Click.
A laser grid snapped into existence around the crate. Red beams crisscrossed the air, inches from Zeph's nose.
"Whoops," Zeph said.
"Don't move," Kaelen hissed. "It's a pressure sensor."
Suddenly, the back door of the truck hissed open. Three guards in heavy armor stepped in, weapons raised.
"Freeze!" one shouted.
Zeph looked at the guards. He looked at the laser grid. Then he looked at Kaelen.
"Plan B?" Zeph asked, grinning.
Kaelen sighed. "There was no Plan B."
"Plan B is I distract them, you hit them."
Before Kaelen could argue, Zeph raised his hands. "Wait! Don't shoot! I'm just a lost pizza delivery guy! Do you guys have a coupon?"
The guards hesitated, confused for a split second.
That was all Kaelen needed. He threw a smoke pellet.
BOOM.
Grey smoke filled the small space.
"Go!" Kaelen yelled.
Gunfire erupted. Bullets pinged off the metal walls. Zeph dove under the laser grid, sliding on his knees. He grabbed a heavy wrench from a tool rack and threw it blindly into the smoke.
Thunk. "Ow!" a guard yelled.
"Bullseye!" Zeph cheered.
Kaelen was a blur in the smoke. He disarmed one guard with a swift kick and slammed another into the wall. He moved like water—fluid and deadly.
Zeph, meanwhile, was scrambling up a stack of crates. He saw the prototype box at the top. He grabbed it.
"Got the goods!" Zeph yelled. "Kae, let's bounce!"
"Exit is blocked!" Kaelen shouted back, dodging a stun baton swing. "Roof hatch!"
Zeph looked up. The hatch was open, showing the grey sky.
He jumped down, clutching the box to his chest. "After you, Princess!"
Kaelen knocked the last guard unconscious and sprinted for the ladder. He climbed up, hauling himself onto the roof. Zeph followed close behind.
They stood on top of the speeding truck, wind whipping their hair.
"Jump to the overpass!" Kaelen pointed ahead. A concrete bridge was coming up fast.
They ran. They leaped.
They hit the concrete hard, rolling to a stop.
The truck sped away below them, disappearing into the city.
Zeph lay on his back, breathing hard. He held up the small metallic box. "We did it."
Kaelen sat up, wiping blood from his lip. He looked at Zeph, then at the box. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You're an idiot," Kaelen said.
"But I'm your idiot," Zeph grinned. "And we just got rich."
They bumped fists.
High above them, a drone watched silently. It wasn't a police drone. It was sleek, black, and had no markings. It zoomed in on Zeph's face.
Scanning...
Subject Identified: Zephyr Vane.
Potential Match for Omega Interface: 94%.
The drone blinked once, then vanished into the clouds.