As Ethan watched the MI6 agents canvassing the area, he remained focused on their movements, trying to gauge their strategy.
"Iris," he asked, "any thoughts on how the motorcyclist managed to disappear so cleanly?"
Iris responded swiftly, her voice analytical. "Based on intercepted communications between the operatives, I believe the motorcyclist executed a sophisticated misdirection tactic. There's talk among the agents about a second motorcycle leaving the area shortly after the first one disappeared from camera feeds. It's possible they switched vehicles using a decoy—likely planned well in advance."
Ethan frowned. "A decoy? So this was coordinated."
"Precisely," Iris continued. "Additionally, several surveillance cameras in the area experienced temporary jamming around the time of the switch. Whoever this is, they're well-funded and resourceful."
Ethan processed the information, his mind racing. "Alright, Iris, I need you to run facial recognition scans on every driver and passenger of every car that passed that spot since the motorcyclist went off the radar. Pull data from dashcams, traffic cameras, whatever you can access."
"Understood, Sir. This will take some time to process given the number of vehicles involved and the countermeasures they employed."
Ethan glanced back at the perimeter, watching the MI6 agents work methodically. "Let me know the moment you have something. I'll head back to the safehouse in the meantime—time to check in on Isabella."
As Ethan started the Range Rover and drove off, Iris's voice cut in again. "Sir, there's something else. I intercepted a communication between Hawkins and her team. They've noticed irregularities near your last known location. They haven't identified you yet, but they're running enhanced sweeps in your vicinity."
Ethan's grip tightened on the wheel. "Meaning what, exactly?"
"Meaning we need to leave—now," Iris replied. "They're closing in."
Ethan didn't waste any time. He accelerated down the narrow road, leaving the MI6 team behind. As he neared the safehouse, Iris's voice returned, her tone cautious. "Sir, I've picked up some irregular activity near the perimeter of the safehouse. Satellite imagery detected movement just outside the security grid approximately two hours ago. So far there's been no breach to the safehouse, but I advise caution."
Ethan's jaw clenched as he considered the possibilities. Whatever was waiting for him at the safehouse, he'd be prepared for it.
...
Ethan's heart pounded as he arrived at the perimeter of his secluded safehouse, his senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through him. Iris's earlier warning about irregular activity around the house was still fresh in his mind. He had to ensure Isabella was safe. The eerie quiet surrounding the property only deepened his unease.
As he neared the door, it was slightly ajar—a sign of desperation rather than carelessness. Ethan pushed it open cautiously, every nerve in his body prepared for an ambush.
Inside, he found her. Isabella was frantically trying to pry open a window, her breaths ragged and panicked. She was trembling, her wide eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. Her face, still bruised from the attack, was a mixture of fear and confusion.
"Isabella..." Ethan's voice was calm, but she flinched, her body stiffening as though expecting another blow. She spun around, eyes wild, and took a few staggering steps back, her hands raised defensively.
"Stay back!" she yelled, her voice hoarse. There was a moment of recognition as her eyes flickered over his face, but it quickly faded into panic. "Don't come near me!"
Ethan froze, hands raised in a placating gesture. He knew any sudden move could push her further into hysteria. Iris's soft voice echoed through his earpiece, offering gentle guidance.
"Sir, avoid getting too close. She's in survival mode right now. Keep your distance, and speak slowly."
"I'm not here to hurt you," Ethan said, his voice low and measured. "You're safe here, Isabella. No one is going to hurt you again."
But his words didn't seem to register. Her memory was fragmented, and in her mind, he could be one of the men who had attacked her. Every step he took forward made her retreat further until her back hit the wall, her whole body trembling.
"Please, just leave me alone..." Her voice cracked, and she slid down the wall, curling into herself. The sight of her in such a fragile state sent a pang of frustration through Ethan—he wasn't used to feeling powerless.
He crouched a safe distance away, his eyes softening as he tried to connect with her. "Isabella, you don't remember me, but I helped you... I got you away from Alejandro. You're not alone anymore."
She looked up, her eyes clouded with confusion. There was a flicker of something—maybe recognition, but it was quickly swallowed by fear.
"Why should I believe you?" she whispered, her voice thick with doubt.
"You don't have to right now," he admitted. "But you're safe, and I need you to know that. You were hurt, but we got away. I brought you here to protect you."
Isabella's gaze was locked on him, her mind trying to sift through the haze of trauma. But it was clear she couldn't piece the events together—her memory was like shards of broken glass, impossible to assemble all at once.
"Iris, any ideas?" Ethan murmured quietly.
"Try relating to her vulnerability. She's been through a lot and might feel isolated," Iris advised, her voice soothing.
"Isabella," Ethan said gently, "I've been through things like this too. Times where I didn't know who to trust, and I felt like the world was against me. But right now, I'm trying to make sure nothing like that happens to you again."
She looked at him, her guarded expression softening ever so slightly.
The tension in the air slowly began to dissipate. Isabella was still cautious, her body language defensive, but Ethan's steady presence and calm demeanor started to reach her. She didn't say much, but the edge of her panic ebbed.
Over the next few hours, Ethan stayed close but never too near, giving her space while offering her food and water. He didn't push her to talk but assured her that the house was secure. Iris continued to monitor the outside perimeter while quietly offering Ethan advice on how to help Isabella process her trauma without overwhelming her.
Isabella sat quietly in a corner, her eyes distant, lost in thought. Her mind was working through fragmented memories, trying to make sense of the terror she had experienced. But every time she closed her eyes, flashes of Alejandro Mendoza and the brutal attack flickered in her mind, causing her to flinch involuntarily.
As the evening grew darker, Iris suddenly interrupted the silence. "Sir, I'm picking up chatter on the dark web. Alejandro Mendoza has put a hit out on both you and Isabella. He's gathering mercenaries and local gangs."
Ethan's jaw clenched. He had anticipated something like this but hoped it wouldn't come so soon. Alejandro was out for blood.
"Is there a timeframe?" Ethan asked, standing up from his position across the room.
"Not yet, but the bounty is spreading. It's only a matter of time before someone takes the job seriously."
Ethan glanced at Isabella, who was unaware of the new danger they were facing. "We stay put," he decided. "The safehouse is off the grid, and no one knows we're here."
Iris's voice was calm but firm. "It would be wise to enhance the security measures. Reinforce the perimeter and keep an eye on any suspicious activity."
Ethan got to work immediately, ensuring every entry point was secure, setting up additional surveillance, and installing traps around the surrounding areas. His movements were methodical, but in truth, he was racing against time.
After a quick assessment of the safehouse's vulnerabilities, he accessed the Shop panel, quickly scrolling through the available options. His Agent Points (AP) were running low—just enough to afford the bare minimum. He sighed, realizing he had to make it count.
With a focused gaze, he selected the cheapest supplies for traps and reinforcements: tripwires, motion-triggered alarms, and basic reinforcement materials for the windows and doors. He discretely materialized the items in the next room, each packed neatly in crates.
-50 AP deducted. Remaining AP: 0.
He couldn't afford any more purchases. A part of him felt the weight of that realization—he'd have to complete the mission assigned by the Agent System as soon as possible if he wanted to access the Shop again. Supplies were one thing, but the lack of AP meant he had no backup if things escalated further.
Determined, Ethan unpacked the crates and got to work. As he laid the traps and reinforced the weak points of the safehouse, Isabella watched him silently, her eyes flickering with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. She didn't say much, but it was clear that she was taking in every move, every decision he made.
The intensity in Ethan's eyes never wavered, the kind of focus only someone who had been in life-or-death situations could muster. It wasn't just about building physical defenses; it was about preparing for an inevitable confrontation.
When he finally took a break, sweat beading his forehead, he sat across from Isabella again. She hadn't moved much from her spot, still perched on the sofa, her body language cautious. The fear in her eyes had dulled, replaced by something akin to exhaustion—emotional and physical.
"You're building a fortress," she murmured, her voice a little stronger now.
Ethan wiped the sweat from his brow and gave her a small, reassuring smile. "We have to be ready for anything." But beneath that calm exterior, he was already thinking ahead. With his resources now depleted, the only path forward was to finish the system mission. He needed more AP, not just to protect the safehouse, but to survive the storm that was coming.
Ethan could sense Isabella's lingering tension. The way her eyes darted toward the door every few minutes, as if weighing her options, showed how trapped she felt, even in what was supposed to be a safe space. He knew she was still questioning whether she could trust him, and that meant her anxiety would be heightened until she saw for herself that he wasn't a threat.
"I need to head outside for a few minutes," Ethan said calmly, standing from his seat. "Iris will keep you company."
Isabella tensed at the mention of another person, her eyes scanning the room nervously.
"Don't worry," Ethan reassured her, pulling out his phone and extending it toward her. "Iris is... let's just say, she's not physically here. Iris is more like—a guide. You'll see what I mean."
Isabella hesitated, her gaze fixed on the phone as if it might suddenly spring to life and attack her. Slowly, and with a deep breath, she reached for it. The moment her fingers wrapped around the phone, a soft, melodic tone filled the room, followed by a warm, soothing voice.
"Hello, Isabella," Iris's voice greeted, gentle and reassuring. "It's alright. I'm here to keep you company while Ethan steps out. You're safe here."
Isabella's grip tightened on the phone, but not in fear. The calming, almost maternal tone of Iris's voice seemed to have an immediate effect. Isabella's shoulders lowered a fraction as some of her tension began to ease. She glanced up at Ethan, confusion mingling with a hint of curiosity in her expression.
Ethan nodded. "She's like my assistant, only much more capable than any assistant you've met. Iris will stay with you while I check the perimeter."
Isabella glanced back at the phone, where Iris's voice continued to softly reassure her. "You're safe, Isabella. Ethan will ensure everything outside is secure. I'll be right here with you the whole time."
The calm cadence of Iris's words was slowly working, allowing Isabella's breathing to regulate. There was still wariness in her eyes, but the panic that had gripped her earlier seemed to be waning. Ethan noticed the subtle change and gave a brief nod to Iris through his earpiece before turning toward the door.
"I won't be long," he said, giving Isabella one last look. "Just listen to Iris."