Rusty's vision cleared, and he found himself in a dimly lit room, restrained to a metal chair. The throbbing pain in his head suggested he had been unconscious for some time. The walls of the room were lined with screens showing various locations around the city.
Eleanor's voice crackled through his comms, "Rusty, do you read?"
"Barely," Rusty groaned. "I'm tied up somewhere. What's the status?"
"The device was recovered, but it's been heavily damaged," Eleanor said. "We're analyzing the fragments for any clues. Meanwhile, we've traced your location to an old Blackwaters safe house. It's a trap—we need to get you out of there."
Rusty tested his restraints, finding them secure. The door to the room creaked open, and the masked figure from before entered, accompanied by two guards. The figure's voice was calm, almost amused.
"You're quite resilient, Malone. But now, we have a different plan for you."
The figure walked to one of the screens, displaying a live feed of a city bridge. "In less than an hour, this bridge will collapse, killing hundreds. You're going to help us ensure it happens."
Rusty's heart sank. "Why are you doing this?"
The figure's eyes glinted behind the mask. "Our motives are not your concern. You have a choice—help us, or watch the carnage unfold."
As the figure turned to leave, Rusty's comms crackled with a warning from Eleanor. "Rusty, the location of the safe house has been compromised. We've detected a second device—possibly a diversion. Be on guard."
The safe house's lights flicker ominously as a loud bang echoes through the building. The door bursts open, and armed intruders storm in, closing in on Rusty.