Nathan's hand trembled on the key for a single second before training, years of repetition, of answering calls at three a.m, took over. He turned it, and the SUV's engine kicked on.
For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the fence. The facility's walls and the whole presence of the place seemed to lean toward him, daring him to move.
Marco's voice snapped through the comms. "Nathan. Now, now, now!"
Nathan shoved the gearshift forward and punched the gas.
The SUV slammed through the chain-link fence, metal screeching as it bent under the impact. Tires rolled hard over pavement as the vehicle bounced into the compound.
He saw them immediately. Three figures crouched behind a low concrete barrier, muzzle flashes lighting up the dark. Riley aimed her pistol with clinical precision, every shot controlled. Torres crouched low, one hand steadying the heavy duffel on the ground. Marco fired the shotgun in short, controlled bursts.
Nathan skidded the SUV sideways, presenting the passenger side to them with the door already unlocked. Marco was up first, hauling the duffel in and shoving Riley through the door. Torres jumped in after after them, his breath ragged.
"Go, go, go!" Marco barked.
Nathan didn't think. He just slammed the accelerator and the SUV lurched forward, skidding out of the compound. Gunfire chased them, echoing hard into the night.
The streets blurred into a smear of shadow and flashing lights as Nathan wove them back into the city's veins. His body worked on autopilot: eyes scanning, hands adjusting, foot controlling the surge of the engine.
Marco's laughter cut through the chaos first. A short, breathless sound that swelled into something wild.
"We did it," he said, voice hoarse with adrenaline. "Holy hell, we actually did it!"
Torres let out a low whistle. Riley leaned back in the seat, chest heaving, and for the first time tonight, she smiled.
Nathan didn't smile. His hands were locked on the wheel, every muscle in his arms tight.
The duffel sat between them. Marco unzipped it, reached in, and pulled the object into the dim glow of the dashboard lights.
It wasn't much to look at, not at first. A metallic piece no bigger than a child's fist, its surface dull silver-black. But as Nathan's eyes adjusted, he saw faint etching running across it like veins. It caught the light in strange ways, as if it was reflecting something deeper than the SUV's interior.
It was heavy, Marco said, heavier than it looked. He dropped it into Nathan's hand briefly and Nathan's fingers sank under the unexpected weight. Cold and dense was the description that best fit it.
"Worth a million bucks," Torres said with a low chuckle.
"Looks like a paperweight," Riley replied.
Marco grinned. "Paperweight or bomb, doesn't matter. We're getting paid."
Nathan stared at it for a second longer before dropping it back into the duffel. The weight lingered in his palm.
The rendezvous point was an empty industrial lot on the far edge of the city. One van sat under a dead streetlight, it's engine idling.
Nathan's pulse ticked higher. The joy in the SUV turned into a tense silence.
"Alright," Marco said. "Showtime. Torres, you're with me."
He shoved the duffel into Nathan's lap. "Keep it here with you, just incase anything goes wrong."
Nathan nodded, fingers tightening around the bag. Riley stayed in the back seat, her pistol resting low in her lap.
Marco and Torres stepped out, the space between the two vehicles lit up by their headlights as they approached the van.
Nathan's gaze shifted between the windshield and the duffel on his lap. The metallic heart-shaped fragment sat under the canvas. His hands locked on the wheel.
The van doors opened. Two silhouettes stepped out. Nathan leaned slightly forward, trying to make out details. One of the figures carried a large duffel of their own.
"Easy trade," Riley murmured. Her voice didn't sound convinced.
Marco stepped closer, lifting his hands to signal them. But before he could even prompt them to hand over the duffel bag, thinking it was the money. The world exploded.
Gunfire ripped the night apart, loud enough to make the dashboard vibrate. Muzzle flashes strobed the lot. Marco jerked once, then crumpled. Torres spun as bullets tore through him, his body dropping hard to the ground.
Nathan ducked instinctively. A hot line of fire ripped across his side and he gasped, the SUV jerking under the hail of gunfire. The windshield spiderwebbed under the impact as rounds punched through the glass, shards scattering across the dash. Bullets tore into the SUV's frame, leaving jagged holes in the metal. Riley screamed beside him and fired back, the sound deafening in the enclosed space.
"Go!" she shouted, blood spraying across her arm.
Nathan shoved the gearshift, the SUV lurching backward, but another spray of bullets tore through the windshield again. Riley's body slammed back into the seat, limp. Nathan looked down in horror. Blood foamed at her mouth, her eyes wide and fading.
"Stay with me," he choked, one hand pressing hard against her chest, the other gripping the wheel.
His side burned. He could feel the warm slide of his own blood under his shirt.
The SUV skidded sideways behind a concrete barrier. Nathan gasped for breath and looked down at the duffel. The fragment sat exposed now, silver-black in the dim light.
He grabbed it with a bloody hand. A heart made of metal.
A million-dollar bomb
Or so he thought.
Nathan squeezed it hard, desperate for anything to happen. No lights. No hum. Nothing.
The footsteps outside were calm. Someone new had joined the first two. This one was controlled, whoever they were, they weren't in a rush.
Nathan's vision swam. His thoughts weren't on the gunfire anymore. They were on Lily's laugh. Claire's tired smile at dinner. The small apartment that smelled like coffee and was full of warmth.
He pulled the Glock from his side with his free hand. His grip slipped in the blood.
If I'm gonna die for this, then no one will have it.
The footsteps stopped just outside the SUV. A muzzle came into view, pointed straight at him. It was so close he could almost feel the heat off the barrel.
A shot went off, then another, then a third. None were his and somehow, he was still alive.
Three thuds followed, one after each shot. Nathan froze, the fragment still clutched in his hand.
A dark shape moved in on the SUV. Without the windshield in the way, he could see her clearly now—a tall figure in a plain blazer over a button-down and dark jeans. Her hands gripping a pistol in a ready stance, completed the picture.
Detective Nina Carver, every inch on alert, ready to fire if she had to.
Nathan couldn't even see it as salvation. His body moved on instinct. He turned the Glock on the fragment and pulled the trigger.
The world went white.
There was no pain. No sound. Just a single, weightless moment.
Nathan's last thought wasn't the gunfire or the blood or the silver heart in his hand. It was Lily's small hand wrapped around his finger.
He was glad no one would use it. Glad his name wouldn't make life harder for Claire and Lily.
And then it all went blank.