The crowd was beginning to disperse in slow waves, still buzzing from the energy of Henzel's speech. Media personnel and supporters surrounded the area, but the real focus was at the rear — where two matte-black security SUVs waited behind the stage, engines humming like a heartbeat too calm for the adrenaline spiking in Seyfe's blood.
Henzel, wiping sweat from his brow, approached the first vehicle with his security detail.
"Alright, Branton," Henzel said, glancing toward Seyfe, "time to hit the debrief?"
Seyfe nodded, eyes darting between the two SUVs. The handlers were organizing Henzel's ride — the mayoral hopeful was meant to be in the first one, with two guards riding along. But his gut twisted.
Something's wrong.
Seyfe stepped between the open car door and the lead security agent.
"Actually, Mr. Henzel will ride with me," Seyfe said firmly. "Your team can follow behind in the second vehicle."
The security agent furrowed his brow. "That's not the—"
"I'm the one managing his schedule. Last-minute change." Seyfe leaned in closer, eyes locked. "Now."
Something in his tone cut through. The agent relented, albeit reluctantly, stepping back and motioning to his men to load into the second SUV.
Henzel, confused but cooperative, climbed into the vehicle. Seyfe followed, settling into the seat beside him, trying not to show how tightly coiled his body had become.
The car doors shut. The vehicle rolled forward.
Inside the SUV
The hum of the road was the only sound between them for a moment.
Henzel glanced at Seyfe. "Everything alright, Branton? You look like you saw a ghost."
Seyfe didn't answer immediately. His eyes scanned the road. His fingers twitched near the clasp of his sidearm — still hidden, still unofficial.
Then—
BOOM.
A sharp blast tore through the street just behind them.
Through the back window, a massive flash lit up the second SUV — flame and twisted steel filling the air as the vehicle erupted in a violent explosion. Shards of black metal rained down on the pavement like confetti from hell.
Seyfe instinctively threw his arm in front of Henzel as the driver veered sharply, tires screeching.
"Drive! Get us to the backup route, now!" Seyfe barked, his voice cutting through the stunned silence.
The driver — thankfully trained enough not to panic — swerved them through a narrow alley just off the main road.
In Comms – Ferez's Voice
"Seyfe! Explosion just hit — it's a trap. That sniper was a decoy, someone fed false patterns to the Veiler Scan. I'm tracking a secondary party—"
"Copy," Seyfe replied through clenched teeth. "I've got the package. They were targeting Henzel the whole time."
He glanced sideways at the shaken politician.
"You wanted to change lives, Henzel? You just became the price tag."
The SUV jerked to a sudden stop in the darkened alleyway, tires scraping against loose gravel. The muffled city noise vanished behind thick concrete, replaced only by the pained gasps of the driver.
Without hesitation, Seyfe reached down, unhooked the concealed sidearm latched to the driver's belt, and pressed the barrel coldly to the back of the man's neck.
"Didn't think I'd have one this close," Seyfe muttered.
Before the driver could react, Seyfe slammed the door open, yanked him out, and threw him to the ground. The shot rang out a moment later — a clean hit to the leg. The man screamed, but Seyfe was already kneeling over him, barrel steady.
"Where's your handler?" "Why target Henzel?"
The driver gurgled a protest, reaching for his wound.
"How did y—"
"Enough." Seyfe's voice sharpened. "It was easy, actually."
He cocked the gun again and leaned closer, eyes cold and calculating.
"First off, you were too quiet for someone new. Not a single question during pre-mission prep, no feedback when I rerouted Henzel's schedule. You acted like you already knew the path."
"Second — your eyes. You kept checking the rearview like a lookout, not a driver. Like you were waiting for a signal… or an explosion."
"Third — there were no backup formation signals when the route changed. Real security would've protested the deviation. But you let me shift protocol without so much as a word."
Another shot fired — this time into the man's other leg. He howled, clutching at both wounds.
"Fourth — the second SUV was too far back. A trained team would tail tightly, especially with this many civvies around. But you let them fall behind — perfectly timed for the blast."
"And lastly…" Seyfe leaned in closer, his voice a whisper laced with venom."You flinched before the explosion."
He pressed the barrel under the man's jaw.
"So talk. Who's pulling the strings? Why Henzel?"
The injured driver whimpered through the pain, blood pooling beneath him in the alley shadows.
"I-I don't know the full picture, I swear… all I know is someone placed a bounty — high profile — political shift liability. They don't want a unifier, they want the city divided."
Seyfe narrowed his eyes, the pieces clicking into place. So this wasn't just another petty assassination — this was orchestrated by someone who feared Henzel's influence.
"Names. Now."
Ferez crouched low as he trailed the sniper through rusted scaffolding and broken beams. His boots barely made a sound across the forgotten bones of the city. The sniper moved fast — clearly trained — but not fast enough.
The scent of rust and ozone thickened as Ferez crept closer. He didn't need to see the insignia on the man's gear to know he wasn't just a random killer — this was coordinated.
Click. A brief radio ping. Ferez's brow furrowed. He had tapped into their frequency earlier, and now it was active.
"Team A converging on Branton's vehicle. Confirm kill status."
Branton — Seyfe.
Ferez's jaw tightened. He shifted position, hugging a pillar as he peered over the edge of the rooftop.
Below, he spotted them — five figures breaking formation from the far plaza, dressed in civilian blends but moving with sharp precision. Two peeled toward the alley where Seyfe had diverted Henzel. One circled to block any camera blind spots.
A hit team.They were closing in — quick, surgical, and dangerous.
Ferez tapped the comm in his ear.
"Seyfe. Company. At least five. Coordinated approach. You're not just the bait — you're the trap."
No response. Of course — comms might've been scrambled near the alley.
He turned back just in time to see the sniper settle into a firing position again — not aimed at Henzel anymore.
This one was aimed at the alley.
"Shit."
Without hesitation, Ferez lunged forward, catching the sniper by the collar and slamming him against the rusted barrier. The rifle clattered off the rooftop and vanished down into the abyss below.
"Tell me who's mobilizing. Now."
The sniper struggled, reaching for a hidden knife — but Ferez slammed his fist into his throat and pressed the edge of his own blade to the man's ribs.
"You're not taking him out. I'll see to that."
As the sniper wheezed beneath him, Ferez scanned the plaza once more.
One of the converging units had stopped. They were speaking into a wrist mic.
Too late to intercept... but not too late to warn him.
Seyfe, who was dealing with the wounded driver, suddenly noticed the disturbance in the vibrations beneath his feet. There was a faint but unsettling hum in the air, as if the world itself was holding its breath. His instincts kicked in, warning him that something wasn't right, that everything was about to change in the next few seconds.
Tsk.
He didn't have time to hesitate. Seyfe swiftly aimed at the driver's throat, his hand steady as he pulled the trigger. The shot echoed in the stillness, the bullet hitting the esophagus with a sickening thud. The driver's eyes widened in shock, blood gurgling from his throat as he collapsed into the dirt. Seyfe didn't flinch.
Henzel, who had been frozen in place, now visibly shook with fear, his voice trembling as he whispered, "What is happening?"
Seyfe's gaze snapped toward him, cold and calculating. "We get out of here now."
He grabbed Henzel by the arm, pulling him swiftly into a nearby building under construction. The scaffolding creaked ominously above them as Seyfe's mind raced. How much time had he wasted? How many more would be on their way to his position?
He pushed Henzel into the corner of a small, cramped room, quickly scanning for potential escape routes and cover. The air was thick with the metallic smell of fresh concrete and old dust, a stark reminder of how little time they had before the enemy arrived.
"Get in there!" Seyfe hissed, pushing Henzel into a locker. "Stay quiet. Don't make a sound. No matter what happens."
Henzel's eyes were wide with terror, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breath. But Seyfe didn't have time to reassure him. Instead, he quickly ducked behind a stack of wooden beams, his eyes trained on the door. His pulse was racing, but he kept his breathing steady.
Through the cracks in the walls, he could hear them — the footsteps. Rapid, rhythmic, and deliberate. They were close now, hunting them.
Five? Six? More?
His mind calculated, weighing the odds. They're faster than I expected. He gritted his teeth, knowing they had to be more efficient — every second counted now.
His thoughts raced as the first figure appeared outside, scanning the area with a sharp gaze. The figure moved like a predator, fluid and calm. Seyfe's heart skipped a beat, his body coiling like a spring, ready to move at a moment's notice.
But Seyfe knew he had to be patient. He needed to wait for the right moment. Too early, and they'll catch on. Too late, and I'll be a target.
The footsteps drew nearer. With every passing second, the tension grew, as thick and suffocating as the air around them. Seyfe exhaled slowly, making himself as small as possible in the shadows. He didn't need to take them all on at once — he just needed to survive long enough for Ferez to do his part.
The first figure was almost at the entrance now, oblivious to the trap Seyfe had set. The rest of the group was still out of sight, but closing in fast. The key was to stay undetected. Get close. Just a little longer.
The sound of boots scraping the ground echoed off the walls. And then — there it was. The figure stepped into his line of sight.
With a final, silent exhale, Seyfe readied himself. He would have one shot. One chance to get out of this alive.