DON'T TRUST ORACLE.
Three words. Hastily carved with a knife tip into the plastic casing of a destroyed comms unit.
Kael knelt there, in the gloom of the machine depot, his senses screaming. Dust from the collapsed rig still hung in the air, creating hazy shafts in the beam of his flashlight. The smell of old grease, of dust, and of betrayal.
He picked up the comms unit, his fingers tracing the carved letters. This was Rook's handwriting. He recognized the decisiveness in each stroke, even if it was written in a panic. This wasn't a casual warning. This was a last testament.
"Oracle?" Wraith whispered beside him, her voice full of disbelief. "Anya? Why would Rook write that?"
Kael didn't answer. His mind was spinning. Oracle. Anya Petrova. The woman with ice-blue eyes and a tragic story about a lost brother. The one who recruited him. The one who directed their every move from a safe plane in the sky. The one who knew their every movement, every plan, every weakness.
Was their safety just an illusion? Was the intel she provided... a way to lead them, not to victory, but to a larger trap?
Rook's silence on the radio suddenly took on a new, more sinister meaning. It wasn't because of distance or interference. It was a permanent silence, orchestrated by someone they had blindly trusted.
"Kael?" Wraith gently shook his shoulder. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking," Kael said slowly, his voice low and dangerous, "that we've been fighting the wrong monsters."
He stood up, shoving the broken comm into his pocket. It felt as heavy as a tombstone. The worry for Rook and Viper now mingled with a cold sense of betrayal. They weren't just trapped behind enemy lines. They might have been pushed here by their own commander. Every order, every piece of intel, now had to be viewed through a deadly lens of suspicion.
They weren't just pawns on The Broker's chessboard. They were also pawns on another player's board, a player they had called an ally.
Just then, Kael's earpiece beeped. It was the team channel. It was Gryphon.
Kael signaled for Wraith to be quiet. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "Spectre here."
"Spectre! Damn it, finally made contact!" Gryphon's voice came through, full of relief but also extreme urgency. The gunfire had died down, but Kael could still hear distant shouting. "Status report! Are you alright?"
"We're fine. Made it to the machine depot," Kael replied, choosing his words carefully. Should he tell Gryphon? Right now? Over a potentially compromised channel?
"We found signs of Rook," he continued, deciding to hold back the most critical part. "But we don't see them. Just a pack and a broken comm."
A long pause on the other end. Kael could picture Gryphon's face darkening. "Understood," Gryphon finally said, his voice heavy. "We're in trouble too. The blast drew everything our way. We're being hunted. Kante... he's not dead. We saw him crawl out of the wreckage. He's barely scratched."
Not surprised, Kael thought.
"We need to regroup," Gryphon continued. "The evac plan stands. The machine depot is a trap. Get out of there and meet us on the west slope of the mine. We'll provide cover from a distance."
"Gryphon, wait," Kael said. "We can't leave them. Rook and Viper. We have to know what happened."
"Kael, I get it," Gryphon said, his tone softening slightly. "But they're not there. And we can't help them if we end up dead too. An order is an order. Fall back."
Kael clenched the hand holding his weapon. An order. A word that now sounded hollow and suspicious. Was this order also from Oracle? Was it a way to lure them out of their only cover and into another trap?
"Roger that," Kael said, but in his heart, he had already made a different decision.
He broke the connection.
"We're not going," he told Wraith.
"What? But Gryphon..."
"Gryphon is following orders from a source we can't trust," Kael cut her off. "Think about it, Wraith. Why would Rook destroy the comm? To keep it from being tracked. Or to stop someone from listening in. He left a message for us, the people he trusted would find it. He didn't want us to fall back. He wanted us to know the truth."
Wraith looked into the shadows around the depot, considering. "So what's the plan? We're in the tiger's den, and the tiger is on its way home."
"Rook and Viper couldn't have gotten far," Kael reasoned. "Viper's badly wounded. They have to be hiding somewhere nearby. In this depot, or right under it. Rook led us here for a reason. He wants us to find them."
"Find them in a mess like this?" Wraith gestured around them. The depot was as large as a football field, filled with massive machines and dark, hidden corners.
"We split up," Kael said. "You check the upper level, the old offices. I'll check the warehouse area and the basement. We move fast. Ten minutes. If we find nothing, we fall back as per Gryphon's plan. Deal?"
Wraith looked at the determination in Kael's eyes. She knew he wouldn't leave. And neither could she. "Deal," she said. "But if I hear so much as a hiss, I'm blowing this whole place sky-high, whether you're in it or not."
"I'd expect nothing less," Kael smirked.
They split up, two ghosts melting into the shadows of a steel mausoleum.
Kael moved along the walls of the warehouse, his rifle at the ready. His flashlight beam swept across rusted barrels, rotting wooden pallets, and dust-covered tarps hiding indeterminate shapes. Every shadow could be an enemy. Every small sound made his muscles tense.
He heard footsteps.
He immediately killed his light and pressed himself behind a stack of giant truck tires. He held his breath, listening.
The footsteps grew closer. Not the heavy tread of MLF soldiers. Lighter. More calculated.
A flashlight beam swept the area, passing just meters from his hiding spot.
Kael peeked through a gap in the tires.
It was Ingrid Hunnigan.
She wasn't alone. Following her were the four remaining members of her Delta squad. They were searching too, but not for Kael.
"Is he here?" one of the soldiers asked.
"His bio-signature is strong, but it's being scrambled by all this metal," Hunnigan replied, her voice laced with frustration. "Kante was wounded in the collapse. He came back here to regenerate. Find him! The Broker will not be happy if his prize investment self-destructs."
Kael froze. Hunnigan and her team were here too. A confrontation was inevitable. He had to warn Wraith.
He slowly reached for his earpiece, but before he could press the button, another sound came from above.
A metallic creak. It was Wraith.
The flashlight beams of Hunnigan and her team immediately snapped up to the second-floor gantry where Wraith was hiding.
"Who's there?" Hunnigan yelled.
Kael knew what he had to do. He couldn't let them find Wraith.
He kicked an empty barrel hard.
CLANG!
The sound echoed through the warehouse.
"Over there!" Hunnigan yelled.
Four flashlight beams and four gun barrels immediately swiveled toward Kael.
He had just made himself the bait.
The firefight erupted instantly. Kael opened fire from behind the tires, forcing Delta squad to take cover. Bullets ricocheted back and forth, striking metal and concrete, creating bright sparks.
He knew he couldn't hold them off for long. Four against one. Terrible odds.
From above, he heard a small pop and a shout. Wraith had acted, throwing a flashbang down to support him. The brilliant light and deafening bang disoriented Delta squad for a moment.
It was enough for Kael to move.
He broke from cover, running for a row of old metal lockers, firing as he went. A bullet grazed his arm, a searing hot pain erupting, but he didn't stop.
He slid behind the lockers, reloading his magazine. He was pinned down.
"Surround him!" He heard Hunnigan order. "He's alone!"
That's right, Kael thought, his back against the cold metal. Alone. Trapped. And about to die.
He closed his eyes, preparing for their final assault.
And then, he heard it.
It wasn't gunfire. It wasn't shouting.
It was another sound. Faint. But very close.
A soft, tap, tap, tap.
It was coming from directly beneath him. From under the concrete floor.
Kael crouched down, pressing his ear to the cold ground.
The sound repeated. A rhythm. A signal.
Then a weak voice, muffled by the thick concrete, drifted up through a tiny crack in the floor he hadn't noticed.
"Kael...? Spectre...? Is that you?"
Kael was stunned. He knew that voice.
It was Rook's.