Ethan did not drive straight to the hotel entrance.
The Greyson was designed to look inviting—glass façade, warm interior lights, a doorman standing beneath a canopy like the promise of safety. That was exactly why it was a bad idea.
Invitations were for people who expected protection.
Ethan slowed half a block away and guided the SUV into a narrow side street. The rain muffled the engine as he killed the headlights and let the vehicle coast forward.
The Guardian System pulsed once on the dashboard.
WARNING: HOSTILE PROBABILITY—68%
"Still climbing," Ethan muttered.
The system map shifted, the pulsing route dissolving into a schematic view of the surrounding blocks. The Greyson dominated the center—fourteen floors, rooftop access, two underground parking levels.
Too many entrances.
Too many blind spots.
Ethan reached for the wheel and turned sharply into a service alley that ran behind the hotel. Trash bins lined the brick walls, slick with rain. Steam rose from a vent somewhere above, blurring the security cameras mounted near the fire escape.
The SUV rolled to a stop.
Ethan sat still for one second, listening.
Footsteps. Somewhere above. Too light to be staff.
A van engine idled at the far end of the alley, just out of sight.
"They're early," Ethan said.
The system responded immediately.
ECHO MAP AVAILABLE.USES REMAINING: 4/5
Ethan activated it.
The world overlaid itself again, sharper this time. The alley stretched out in translucent blue, while faint red outlines flickered into existence—two near the fire escape, one inside the van, another moving across the rooftop.
Four confirmed.
Possibly more.
"They expect me at the front," Ethan murmured. "Which means Lena isn't secure."
He opened the door and stepped into the rain.
The cold hit him immediately, but his body barely registered it. His breathing slowed. Muscles tightened with practiced efficiency.
The Guardian System chimed softly.
THREAT AWARENESS: TEMPORARY BOOST ACTIVE.
Ethan's vision tunneled—not narrowing, but prioritizing. The world became vectors again. Distance. Angles. Timing.
He moved down the alley without hurry.
The first hostile made the mistake of peeking over the fire escape railing.
Ethan threw a bottle.
Not hard. Not fast. Just enough.
The glass shattered against the brick wall near the man's head, and the hostile flinched, attention snapping toward the noise.
That was all the opening Ethan needed.
He crossed the distance in three strides, leapt, and grabbed the lower rung of the fire escape. His weight shifted upward, silent despite the rain. The man above turned just in time to see a shadow rise from below.
Ethan's elbow connected with the man's throat.
No drama. No wasted motion.
The hostile collapsed against the railing, choking, and Ethan guided him down—gently enough that the fall didn't echo.
The second hostile reacted faster.
Too fast.
A professional.
The man swung, blade flashing in the dim alley light. Ethan twisted aside, felt the edge graze his sleeve, and responded with a knee to the midsection that knocked the breath from the man's lungs.
They grappled for half a second—wet brick, slick metal, bodies colliding.
Then Ethan drove the man's head into the wall.
Once.
Twice.
The man went limp.
Ethan released him and stepped back as the system updated.
HOSTILES NEUTRALIZED: 2ECHO MAP: 2 TARGETS REMAINING
The van engine revved.
Ethan turned just as the rear doors flew open.
The hostile inside didn't bother with subtlety. He raised a suppressed pistol and fired.
Ethan moved before the sound reached him.
He dove behind a dumpster as rounds punched into metal, sparks flaring. The system flared warnings in his peripheral vision—angles highlighted, trajectories predicted.
He waited.
One second.
Two.
Then he rolled out, firing twice with the compact handgun he'd drawn from his jacket.
The hostile dropped, the pistol clattering onto wet concrete.
The van lurched forward, tires screeching.
Ethan didn't chase.
He already had what he needed.
The system chimed again.
HOSTILE RETREAT CONFIRMED.PRIMARY THREAT SHIFTING.
"Meaning?" Ethan asked.
The system displayed a new prompt.
TARGET LOCATION COMPROMISED.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
He sprinted toward the service entrance and slammed through the door.
Inside, the Greyson was quiet—too quiet. Plush carpet muffled his steps. Soft lighting painted the hallways in gold and shadow.
The system map guided him toward the elevator bank.
TARGET: FLOOR 14STATUS: MOVING
"She's already being moved," Ethan said.
He ignored the elevator and took the stairs.
Fourteen floors.
He took them two at a time.
By the eighth floor, his breathing had deepened, controlled. The system flashed a subtle warning—temporary boosts would not last forever.
Ethan reached the thirteenth floor landing and slowed.
He listened.
Voices. Low. Urgent.
He eased the stairwell door open and slipped into the corridor.
Two men stood outside a room at the far end, both in dark jackets, posture too rigid for hotel security. One spoke into an earpiece, voice tight.
"Package is secured. Moving to secondary location."
Ethan moved.
He closed the distance silently, then struck.
The first man went down with a chokehold that cut off air and consciousness in seconds. The second reached for his weapon, but Ethan kicked his wrist, sent the gun skidding, and followed with a brutal punch to the temple.
Both men collapsed.
Ethan didn't pause.
He pushed open the door behind them.
Inside, the room was in chaos.
Furniture overturned. Curtains half-torn from their rails. Rain streaked through an open window.
And in the center of it—
Lena Carter.
She stood with her back to the wall, gripping a lamp like a weapon. Her eyes were wide, but not panicked. Calculating. Watching.
Two men lay unconscious on the floor at her feet.
Ethan took that in quickly.
"You're late," she said.
Ethan blinked once.
"That wasn't on the schedule."
Lena didn't lower the lamp. "They weren't very good."
The Guardian System chimed.
TARGET STATUS: ALIVE.ASSESSMENT: ABOVE AVERAGE RESISTANCE.
Ethan almost smiled.
"Lena Carter?" he asked.
Her eyes flicked to his hands, his stance, his breathing. "You're not hotel security."
"No."
"Are you with them?"
"No."
She hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, "Then you should probably close that door."
Ethan did.
The corridor fell silent again.
"Someone is trying to abduct you," Ethan said. "Possibly kill you."
"I noticed," Lena replied dryly.
"They're not done."
"I assumed that too."
Ethan studied her more carefully now. She was shaken, but composed. No hysterics. No screaming. Her grip on the lamp was steady.
"You're coming with me," he said.
Lena frowned. "I don't know you."
"That's a problem we can solve later."
She glanced at the unconscious men. "And if I say no?"
Ethan met her gaze. "Then you're betting they won't try again."
Silence stretched between them, thick with rain and unspoken calculations.
Finally, Lena lowered the lamp.
"Fine," she said. "But if you're lying—"
"I won't be."
"That's not very reassuring."
Ethan pulled a compact earpiece from his pocket and tossed it to her. "Put this on."
She caught it cleanly. Another point in her favor.
As she fitted it, the system flashed a new update.
MISSION STATUS: PRIMARY OBJECTIVE IN PROGRESS.BONUS OBJECTIVE: SECRECY—COMPROMISED (MINOR).
Ethan cursed under his breath.
"Someone tipped them off," Lena said.
"Yes."
"And it wasn't me."
"No."
They moved together toward the door.
Ethan paused, then turned back to the window. He scanned the street below.
The van was gone.
But a familiar sedan sat across the street, engine running.
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"This isn't over," he said.
Lena followed his gaze. "You say that like it ever is."
The system chimed softly, almost thoughtfully.
OBJECTIVE UPDATE:ESCORT TARGET TO SAFE LOCATION.NEW VARIABLE DETECTED: THIRD-PARTY INTEREST.
Ethan exhaled slowly.
"Looks like we've got company," he said.
Lena met his eyes. "Friends of yours?"
"No," Ethan replied, already moving.
"Friends of money."
And that, he knew, was where things always got messy.