The sunset cast long shadows across the facility, and the training room finally went still after the final spar of the day. Everyone had given their all, and it showed in the satisfied bruises, sore limbs, and begrudging respect slowly beginning to form between teammates.
Bob made his way to the upper floor, toward Jack's office. The guards gave him a quiet nod as he passed. Lena was nowhere in sight, though her presence still lingered like smoke, always watching.
Bob didn't knock when he reached Jack's door. He simply opened it and stepped inside.
Jack sat behind his sleek desk, typing away on a terminal. "Figured you'd stop by."
Bob closed the door behind him. "We need to talk."
Jack leaned back in his chair and motioned to the empty seat across from him. Bob didn't sit. "You brought her here," he said. "Lena. You didn't even tell me."
"I didn't think I had to," Jack replied evenly. "You're not in charge here."
"I know, but it's not just anything," Bob said, tone low. "You know our history. You knew what it would stir up."
"I also knew she's one of the best operatives we have. And she volunteered."
Bob narrowed his eyes. That part, at least, was surprising. Lena volunteering meant something. But he didn't say it aloud. Instead, he changed the subject.
"What about The Order? They've been too quiet."
Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. "We intercepted a coded transmission three days ago. Nothing concrete. Just hints. They're planning something, but it's deep in motion, hidden. I have people combing the intel now."
"So we wait," Bob said, folding his arms.
"For now."
The conversation spiraled into deeper waters, discussions of strategy, defense points, satellite blind spots, possible moles. Jack brought up resources; Bob suggested fallback routes. The shadows of the past loomed large over the present.
By the time they wrapped up, it was 9 P.M. Bob stepped out of the office, tired but focused. The halls were dim, the facility quieter at night.
As was his new routine, he made his way to Alex's room. He always checked on the kid before calling it a night. Just a quiet exchange, sometimes a goodnight, sometimes advice. Alex had started to feel like a little brother, or something even more important.
But tonight, something felt off the second Bob entered the room.
It was too still.
His eyes locked on the bed. A lump beneath the blanket, but something was wrong. No pulse. No breathing. Bob's instincts fired on full alert. He crossed the room in two strides and ripped the covers off.
Pillows.
Stacked. Shaped. Made to look like a body.
Bob stood still for a second, letting the burn of anger boil up before he exploded forward, out the door and down the hall like a bullet.
He found Ryan in the kitchen, leaning lazily against the counter, scrolling on his phone. He didn't even look up.
Bob stepped behind him, silently.
"Where is Alex?" Bob asked, voice like ice.
Ryan shrugged without turning. "I dunno. Ask someone else."
He lied. That was a mistake.
Bob's hand shot out and clamped down on Ryan's shoulder with crushing force. The phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.
Bob's grip tightened.
"Don't. Fucking. Lie to me," he growled, red eyes beginning to glow faintly. "Where is Alex?"
Ryan tensed under Bob's grip, beads of sweat forming on his temple. He knew he'd pushed the wrong buttons.
"Okay, okay!" he yelped. "He's not alone! Beth went with him."
Bob's hand didn't loosen. "Where?"
"There's a carnival. Just a few blocks away, past the bridge. They snuck out, said they'd be back before anyone noticed." Ryan gritted his teeth, trying to twist out of the hold. "Beth said it was harmless, man. Just some rides and junk food."
Bob let go.
Ryan gasped and stumbled forward, rubbing his shoulder and glaring. But Bob was already gone.
...
The night air outside was cooler than expected. Bob's boots hit the pavement in a rhythm just shy of running. His coat flared behind him as he cut across alleyways and empty streets, instincts driving him forward.
He spotted the lights first. Neon and gold, blinking in a chaotic swirl of colors against the night sky. Music played, faint and warped by distance, and the chatter of people blended with the occasional scream from a ride.
Bob slowed as he reached the edge of the carnival.
It was small, but packed. A temporary installation with crooked booths, old rides, and blinding lights. He scanned the crowd, jaw tight.
Then he saw them.
Alex and Beth stood in line for a ride, the spinning teacups, of all things. Beth had a cotton candy the size of her head and was laughing about something. Alex looked up at her like she'd just invented happiness.
Bob exhaled, but it wasn't relief. It was tension suppressed.
He moved toward them, weaving through the crowd.
Beth saw him first. Her eyes widened comically. "Uh-oh."
Alex turned. "Oh no."
Bob stopped a few feet away, folding his arms. His red eyes gleamed under the lights, more tired than angry now. "Nice of you two to sneak out during a time of war."
Beth gave her best innocent smile. "We were conducting recon on local cultural events."
Alex tried a sheepish shrug. "We weren't going to be long…"
Bob looked between them. His voice came quieter now. "You left a fake in your bed, Alex. You knew I'd come check."
Alex winced. "I just didn't want you to stop me."
"I am going to stop you. Starting now." Bob nodded toward the exit. "Both of you. Let's go."
Beth groaned. "You can't even let us enjoy one fun night?"
"You're lucky I didn't bring the whole squad to drag you back."
Alex sighed, handing his half-eaten popcorn to a confused passerby. "Worth it."
They walked back in silence, Bob between them like a frustrated older brother. The carnival lights faded behind them, replaced by the dim, serious glow of the facility ahead.
Beth broke the silence with a grin. "So… what's the punishment?"
"Push-ups. For the rest of your lives."
Alex groaned. "Harsh."
Bob didn't smile.