The grate groaned open with a rusted scream, protesting years of neglect. Karen dropped down first, landing with fluid precision on the damp concrete below. Silas followed, lowering Ayla gently after him, then Zayn brought up the rear. The tunnel swallowed them in stale darkness, lit only by Karen's slim flashlight and the intermittent flicker of failing wall lights that hadn't seen maintenance in decades.
A cold, clammy air enveloped them. The scent of mold and decayed metal hung heavy, blending with the faint sound of water droplets echoing through the tunnel. In the distance, pipes creaked and moaned, as
though the city beneath them was silently bracing itself. Above, the muffled echoes of pursuit faded—at least for the moment.
"This way," Karen said, her voice low and sure, already several steps ahead.
Silas's hand hovered near his weapon, eyes locked on her retreating figure. Zayn noticed but said nothing. Ayla, silent, was watching Karen too—not with suspicion, but with growing curiosity. She wanted to understand what made this woman tick, the force behind her cold efficiency.
"These tunnels," Karen explained, "were built during Valthera's Cold War era. Emergency evacuation routes for the city's politicians and covert military branches. Half of them collapsed or were sealed off when the city expanded upward. But Soren mapped them all."
"You mean the arms dealer?" Ayla asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Karen nodded. "He wasn't just moving guns. He was moving people too."
Silas muttered, "And you just happen to know every twist and turn like a local?"
Karen smirked slightly. "I've used them before. And, more importantly, I'm the reason you're not in a body bag somewhere above ground."
Zayn's breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You going to keep throwing that in my face?"
Karen paused and turned to him, face calm but unreadable. "No. Just stating facts. You're alive. Because of me."
They pushed forward through the tunnel, which split like a vein in the city's underbelly. Karen led left without hesitation. Rusted ladders and access points sealed with melted steel barred the way back. The weight of Valthera pressed from above, a constant reminder of what was at stake.
"You never told me the truth," Zayn finally said, voice heavy.
Karen didn't stop walking. "If I had, you'd never have let me close. And you'd be dead."
Silas frowned. "What truth?"
Karen stopped and faced them all, eyes sharp and unyielding.
I work for a sub-division of American intelligence. Classified beyond your standard CIA clearance, buried deeper than any press badge could ever reveal. My assignment was Valthera—to monitor rising threats. Dorian. Wellington. Anyone connected to that data."
"And Zayn?" Ayla pressed.
Karen looked directly at him. "He was a complication. One I didn't expect to care about."
A heavy silence settled between them, loaded with words left unsaid. Zayn's jaw clenched tightly, yet he remained silent.
Karen resumed walking, her footsteps echoing in the tunnel.
---
They moved deeper until the tunnel widened into a long-abandoned service chamber. Crates and ruined electrical panels littered the space. Rust flakes floated in the stale air.
Karen knelt by a crate and pulled out a small case. Inside: medkits, ammo clips, and a sleek beacon device, its surface humming softly with power.
"We're far from safe," she whispered. "The photo Silas took? That was just a fragment. The full data cache is locked inside NexaCore's central node."
Silas cursed under his breath. "Of course it's there."
"And we can't just walk in," Karen added grimly. "It's locked down with multi-vector encryption—both physical and digital. The highest security."
"How do we get it?" Ayla asked.
Karen's lips curved into a faint smile. "We find someone who can bypass it. His name's Sable. Off-grid ghost hacker. Hacked half of the city's infrastructure before he went dark. Now, he lives in the shadows of NexaCore."
Zayn crossed his arms, skeptical. "And you trust this guy?"
Karen's smile deepened. "I trust that he hates Wellington more than he likes being left alone."
---
A sudden thud echoed from behind them, sharp and close.
Karen spun, weapon raised instantly. "They've found the access point."
Shadows spilled into the tunnel. Flashlights flickered, accompanied by voices crackling in static.
"Move!" Karen ordered sharply.
They ran, darting into a narrower, damp corridor, half-collapsed in places. Silas fired back, his shots scattering their
pursuers. Zayn flanked right, leapt up to a high pipe, and kicked loose debris
down the passage, creating a short but effective barricade.
Gunfire cracked behind them.
Karen pulled a small charge from her belt and tossed it behind. A muffled explosion sealed off part of the tunnel, buying them precious seconds.
They didn't stop.
---
Breathless, they reached a rusted ladder leading up to a hidden panel behind a metro wall. Karen pushed through first, emerging into the skeletal remains of an old train maintenance station.
She activated the beacon. "Contacting Sable," she said, voice low and tense. "Encrypted ping. He'll know it's me."
Minutes stretched in silence, each second a test of nerves.
Then the beacon buzzed.
A single message flashed on the screen:
You shouldn't have brought them here.
Karen exhaled slowly. "At least he's still alive."
A distorted voice crackled over the receiver:
"You're late, Ghost. And they're watching."
The train station lights flickered weakly as the old systems briefly came online.
Silas raised his weapon, eyes sharp. "What exactly does that imply?"
Karen shot a quick look at him before turning to the rest of the group.
"It means we just walked into the lion's den. Stay sharp. Things are about to get very complicated."