BLOODCAPE
Chapter 154: No Exit

Chapter 154: Chapter 154: No Exit

Safehouse 9-F smelled like mothballs and burnt mesh.

The old textile factory above hadn’t spun thread in twenty years, but its concrete skeleton still groaned whenever the wind hit the shattered windows just right. Hernan stood at the center of the floor, surrounded by dusty blueprints, rusted spools, and the faint hum of dehumidifiers Nico had patched together from scrap. A single bulb flickered overhead, out of sync with the others — like it knew exactly what they were doing.

Aya arrived first. She didn’t speak, just gave a nod and crossed to the cracked table in the corner. Her boots were scuffed. Her burn wound — hidden under layers — made her left arm stiff, her movements measured. She hadn’t looked Renz in the eye since the freight corridor op.

That suited Hernan just fine.

Renz entered twenty seconds later.

Always twenty.

Punctual, but not aggressive. Just enough to suggest discipline, not obsession. He dropped into a squat near the old spool rack, hands resting loosely on his thighs. Still wearing those tinted goggles. Hernan wondered if he ever took them off.

He didn’t waste time.

Hernan unrolled a metro map and tapped a point just beyond the District 11 flood line.

"K-12 conduit. Supposed courier, Scorpio tag. Quantum keychain delivery. We intercept, extract, and get out before outer patrols rotate at 0400."

Aya leaned forward. "What’s the confidence level?"

He shrugged. "Secondhand, timestamped. Nothing verified, but credible enough. That said—" His gaze shifted to Renz. "We’ll need a two-person breach. Full stealth entry."

Renz nodded without pause. "Aya and I take lead. You and Nico run overwatch."

Too smooth.

"Exactly," Hernan said. He let the silence breathe. "Nico’s prepping drone coverage. I’ll patch into passive feed only."

His eyes tracked every flicker in their posture. Aya’s expression was tight, but her hands rested just beside her holster — not from nerves. From calculation.

Renz scratched his chin, casual. Then asked:"What’s the courier’s movement window? I’ll need to set proximity lag on the auto-traps."

There it was.

A beat too specific.

Hernan locked eyes with him. "ETA is 0315, give or take five. Run passive sensors only. No active pings."

Renz nodded.

But Hernan logged it.

That was the tell.

No operative sets trap lag without knowing response tolerances. And that question? It didn’t belong to Mercury. It belonged to someone who knew the courier wouldn’t arrive — or was expecting something else to respond.

Aya didn’t say a word, but her glance toward Renz was telling. She was starting to see it too.

Hernan tapped his comm under the table.A silent ping. Nico’s voice buzzed in his ear.

"Fake route planted. Courier’s a ghost. Drone loop’s clean. Killbox is live."

He gave the faintest nod.

"Standard loadouts," Hernan said aloud. "EMP kit. No heroics. Nico’s laid fallback in Sector 6."

Aya grabbed her satchel. Renz stood. The space between them had grown sharp — full of unspoken tension.

"Wheels up in forty," Hernan finished. "Gear’s in the side tunnel."

They moved to leave.

Only after they were gone did Hernan tap his comm again.

"Nico," he said quietly.

"Online."

"No one’s coming."

A pause.

"Let’s see who flinches first."

Scene 2: The Empty Intercept — Rail Conduit K-12, District 11

Aya had been in ghost tunnels before — but this one felt wrong.

Rail Conduit K-12 was buried beneath a dead manufacturing zone scorched flat during the Energy Wars. The ground here didn’t seem to want to hold weight. The metal beams above were blackened, like they’d survived ten fires and never trusted another human breath since.

She crouched behind a rusted signal tower, watching the far end of the corridor through a cracked lens scope.

No movement.

No sound.

Just cold stone and thick silence.

Renz was ten meters ahead, tucked behind a collapsed loader. Legs evenly spaced. Breathing calm. One hand resting near his belt, the other loose. Textbook counter-sniper posture. Perfect.

Too perfect.

Her display ticked past 0315.

Still no courier.

Aya adjusted her earpiece. "Nico, do we have a live ping?"

"Negative," Nico answered softly. "And there won’t be one. Hernan says: observe."

Translation: This is the trap. Play along.

Aya loosened her shoulders. Checked her proximity grid again — just ghost pings. No new signals.

But Renz kept glancing up — specifically at the upper-left arc of the tunnel. The angle Hernan’s drones usually occupied.

This was a black-out op.

There were no drones.

Aya narrowed her eyes, unscrewed her sensor node, and manually triggered a short in her glove.

A burst of soft static filled her HUD. She made it look clumsy.

"Shit," she muttered. "Sensor fault."

Renz moved.

Not to check on her.

Just enough to slide something under his sleeve — a flicker of movement, fast, practiced. Too familiar.

Aya caught it.

Not a comm. A blink tag — microreflex beacon built into his ocular overlay. Hero-grade tech. Covert signaler.

Not for team use. For watchers.

She froze.

Didn’t draw.

Just logged it — both in her mind and on her wrist recorder.

Then—

BOOM.

The tunnel entrance exploded. A wave of pressure and light tore through the dust, hurling ash into the air like powdered bone. Hernan’s false breach. Meant to startle.

Renz moved like it was real.

Rifle drawn, but not toward the explosion. He swept the opposite direction. Toward the fallback route.

He knew.

Aya ducked into position, pretending panic. Weapon half-raised.

She clocked him — not once did he check her status. No comms. No glance. No concern.

Instead, he stepped into the open.

His radio was already in hand.

He spoke, low but clear:

"Nightborn channel compromised. Shifting pattern."

She didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

She just stared through the swirling dust.

Nightborn.

The Zodiac passphrase Luma had intercepted. A trigger code. The phrase that would never come from a real Mercury agent.

Aya slowly engaged her recorder. One soft click.

Renz holstered his weapon. Calm. Collected.

The perfect ghost.

Aya remained crouched, heart hammering behind her ribs, not daring to move.

Inside her chest, her thoughts locked onto a single truth.

There it is.

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