Lina's POV:
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the confrontation ahead. The door creaked open, slicing a sliver of light through the darkness like a blade through velvet.
In that split second, my instincts kicked in, reflexes honed by years of discipline. Without hesitation, I grabbed the nearest object, a shattered vase lying in pieces on the floor and hurled it with the kind of force that could've won me a medal in Olympic shot put.
The crash of glass echoed like a war cry. And then, a groan not from a defeated intruder, but from a very startled Addison.
I froze, wide-eyed. "Addison?!"
We stared at each other, both processing the sheer absurdity of the situation. My heart pounded in my chest, part adrenaline, part disbelief.
He blinked, eyes wide. "Lina, what the hell?" His voice cracked under the strain. "Doesn't it feel like a warzone in here?"
"I know," I muttered, still trying to decide whether to be relieved or furious.
He shot me a look. "Yeah, Lina. Long time, no see."
"When did you even get in here?"
"About ten seconds ago, when you were fumbling with the lock. Thought an intruder was sneaking in to erase evidence. Turns out the intruder was you armed with pottery."1
Before I could snap back, Sarah, who'd been unusually quiet, exclaimed, "War? Lina, what happened?!"
I turned to glare at Addison, a 180cm tall, frustratingly handsome man who looked like he walked out of an autumn fashion catalog. His brown monochromatic outfit was way too stylish for someone who'd just survived an indoor vase attack.
"Addison Lee, can you just shut your mouth?" I said coldly.
From the other side, Miles' voice echoed, "Addison? He's back?!" I knew this bastard had hacked the system to sneak in under Sarah and Miles' noses.
I shot him a look. "And guess who else was here? Louis."
Addison's face went pale. "What? That brat was here?"
I glanced at the bracelet on my wrist. "Hack the security system. Find out who was here two hours ago."
Addison's jaw tightened. "If anything bad happened to them, I'll take down every last one of those bastards."
In the parking lot, Sarah handed me a tablet, her face grim. "Someone tried to destroy the camera footage."
The video was blurry, like it had been filmed through a foggy window. Ten people entered the room. Only three left. Hours later, Ruan and Louis walked in. Twenty minutes of silence. Then, a room service cart was wheeled out.
Addison swore. "Who the hell has the guts to pull this off?" He swung his arm, ready to punch the car.
"Go ahead," I said coolly, "but you're paying for the damages."
He sneered. "Aren't you rich?"
I didn't dignify that with a response.
Sarah switched to another video. Clever escape via the kitchen's back door, car waiting. No license plate.
"They're planning to switch cars soon," I said, zooming in. "See the tire? Less air in the back. And that black car across the road? Probably fake plates or stolen."
Miles nodded. "I'll check the license."
Minutes later, Sarah confirmed. "The owner already filed an FIR."
In unison, the trio muttered, "Scary woman."
"They'll switch cars within a two-kilometer radius," I concluded.
Addison pulled out his car keys, his flashy red Audi R8 beeping as it unlocked. He perched on the hood with his laptop, his fingers flying across the keys. Within minutes, he'd hacked the car's GPS and pinpointed an abandoned ghost factory two hours away.
We drove fast, Miles hacking the traffic lights to avoid delays. By the time we reached the mountainside, it was mid-afternoon. Addison deployed his drone, its camera feeding live footage to his screen.
"Who's going in with me?" I asked.
The trio chose rock-paper-scissors. Because that's what professionals do when lives are at stake.
Miles lost. Of course.
"Outline of the factory?" I asked.
Addison's fingers danced over the keyboard. The drone captured the layout, while he hacked the interior cameras. "I can freeze the feed for fifteen seconds at a time. Enter quickly. The back entrance is heavily guarded. Only two men by the side window."
I nodded. "Do we have weapons?"
Without a word, Addison opened the trunk. I grabbed a SIG Sauer P226, loaded the magazine, and tested the grip. The cold steel felt right in my hand.
"Miles covers me. Sarah takes the right. Addison, you're my eyes. Understood?"
They nodded. No jokes. Just business.
Sarah readied her sniper rifle, Miles armed himself, and I hooked my carabiner to the rope, lowering myself down the cliff.
"Wait for my signal," Addison said.
Ten tense minutes later, his voice crackled in my earpiece. "Now."
I dropped down, Miles right behind me.
"Lina, how do you do this so easily?" Addison muttered.
"Just coordinates."
Sarah and Miles flanked me, silent and sharp. Addison's voice guided us.
{"Lina. Four. Seven o'clock. You have twenty-five seconds."}
I crouched behind a rock, knife ready.
{"Lina. Now."}
I moved fast. One knife to the heart. Silent. Deadly. Miles handled the others, swift and brutal. Bodies dragged out of sight. No witnesses.
{"North. Ten seconds."}
I darted forward, wrapping my arms around a guard's neck, silent and efficient. Quick stabs. No screams.
{"Miles. Two men. South."}
Miles moved with predator-like grace. One gut stab. One snapped neck. Silence.
{"Now. Through the window."}
We slipped inside, shadows against shadows. I split from Miles, taking down enemies one by one, like waltzing with death.
And then, a voice rang out. "Who is it? What are you doing here?!"
I turned slowly, the cold metal of my gun steady in my hand...