The industrial warehouse fell into a heavy silence after Carter's last quip. The air hung thick with tension, the kind that always appeared right before the real storm hit. Carter could see it in Maya's eyes. She wasn't someone who scared easily, but he knew the kind of mess they were in was a new level of danger—even for her. He didn't have to say it; she knew what was at stake.
"I'll start scrambling the signal," Elle's voice echoed from the dashboard, more mechanical now, as though she was all business again. The banter was gone, replaced by the precision and cold efficiency of a high-functioning AI. "You should be clear within a few minutes."
Maya nodded once, moving closer to the car. She inspected it carefully, her fingers grazing its sleek surface as if it were some wild animal she didn't fully trust yet.
"So, this is the famous Elle, huh?" she muttered, mostly to herself.
"Famous? I like the sound of that," Elle replied, her tone softening again, her usual sarcasm returning. "But yes, I'm the one keeping you and Carter alive. Impressed?"
Maya raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Carter. "She talks a lot."
"She's got personality," Carter said, sliding into the driver's seat and stretching his legs out. "Can't say the same about most of the tech I've stolen."
Maya ignored his joke, pacing in front of the car now, hands on her hips as her mind raced. Carter knew she was trying to piece things together. For as long as they'd known each other, Maya had always been the calculating type. She never jumped into anything without thinking through every angle, every potential outcome. It made her a hell of a partner in tough situations—but it also made her cautious. And in this line of work, Carter knew too much caution could get you killed.
"We're good," Elle announced suddenly. "The signal is fully scrambled. They won't be able to trace us for a while. That should buy us time."
Carter sat up. "Great. Now we need to figure out who's hunting you."
Maya didn't respond immediately. She stood at the edge of the warehouse, staring out into the night as if expecting someone—or something—to materialize out of the darkness. Her back was tense, her hands balled into fists at her sides. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, filled with a quiet determination.
"I have a contact," she said, her words deliberate. "A guy who deals in high-level information. If anyone knows who's behind this, it's him."
Carter leaned back, raising an eyebrow. "And you trust this guy?"
"Not particularly," Maya replied, turning to face him, "but he's reliable, and he owes me a favor."
Carter thought for a moment, his gaze flicking toward Elle's dashboard. "Alright. Where do we find him?"
Maya's lips twitched into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "That's the tricky part. He's a bit… elusive. But I know where to start looking."
Carter groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Of course he is."
"Relax," Maya said, though there was no humor in her tone. "I'll handle the hard part. You just focus on keeping us alive."
"That's my specialty," Carter muttered, standing up and heading toward the back of the warehouse. "Let me grab a few things before we go."
---
As Carter rummaged through a small storage area in the far corner of the warehouse, Maya leaned against the side of the car, arms crossed, her expression as unreadable as ever. She wasn't one for small talk—especially not with Carter, who she'd learned long ago would never take anything seriously unless bullets were flying or someone was dangling off a rooftop.
Elle, meanwhile, was running another series of diagnostics. Though her voice remained silent, the dashboard blinked and shifted, showing various streams of data scrolling across the screen. Carter knew she was constantly processing everything—probably more than they could even comprehend. But that didn't make him feel any better about the fact that they had a target on their backs.
Finally, he returned, throwing a worn leather bag over his shoulder and giving Maya a grin that bordered on reckless.
"Alright, partner," he said, locking the warehouse door behind him. "Lead the way."
---
They left the industrial district behind, the car slicing through the dim city streets like a knife through butter. It was past midnight, but the city was far from asleep. Neon lights flickered above as they passed rundown diners, clubs just beginning to fill up, and alleys where shadows shifted uneasily.
"Where are we going?" Carter asked as they wove through the winding streets.
Maya didn't take her eyes off the road. "There's a bar. More like a front for a lot of underground deals. My contact operates out of there. If anyone knows about this tech, it's him."
Carter raised an eyebrow. "A bar? That's your big lead?"
Maya shot him a look that could've cut glass. "You know how this works, Carter. Not everything happens in some high-tech bunker. Half the time, the real information flows through places you'd never expect."
"Touché," Carter muttered, resting his head against the seat as Elle guided them effortlessly through the city. The streets grew narrower as they moved farther from the city center, the buildings becoming older, their façades cracked and worn. The neon lights dimmed, replaced by flickering streetlamps that cast long shadows.
The bar appeared on the next corner, its sign barely visible under the grime and soot that coated its walls. It didn't look like much—just another dive in a forgotten part of town—but Carter knew better. He'd been to plenty of places like this before. They were the kind of places where deals were made, where loyalties were bought, and where people disappeared without a trace.
Maya parked the car a few blocks away, shutting off the engine and turning to Carter.
"Stay sharp," she warned. "My contact won't be happy to see me. This isn't exactly a social call."
"Wouldn't dream of being anything less than charming," Carter replied with a grin, sliding out of the car.
Elle's voice came through the speakers, soft and almost teasing. "I'm starting to think your idea of 'charming' is a little different from everyone else's."
Carter flashed her a smirk before closing the door and turning to Maya. "Shall we?"
---
The inside of the bar was dimly lit, the air thick with the smell of cheap liquor and stale smoke. The few patrons scattered across the room barely glanced at Carter and Maya as they entered, too absorbed in their own conversations or drinks to care. The place was a dive, but it had a certain charm—if you liked the kind of charm that came with the risk of getting stabbed over a bad poker hand.
Maya led the way to the back of the bar, where a small door stood partially ajar. She knocked once, then twice, then paused before knocking a third time.
The door creaked open, revealing a man who looked like he hadn't seen sunlight in years. His hair was long and greasy, his eyes sunken, and his clothes hung off him like they hadn't been washed in weeks. He peered at Maya with a mix of suspicion and irritation.
"Maya," he said, his voice raspy. "I thought you were dead."
"Nice to see you too, Gregor," Maya replied, pushing past him into the small, cluttered room behind the door.
Carter followed, eyeing the piles of papers, old tech, and half-empty liquor bottles that littered the room. It was a mess—just like the man who ran it.
Gregor slumped into a worn-out chair, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrests. "What do you want?"
"We need information," Maya said, getting straight to the point. "Something big is happening, and you're the only one who might know who's behind it."
Gregor's eyes narrowed. "What kind of information?"
"The kind that involves military-grade AI tech," Carter chimed in, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Ever heard of Elle?"
Gregor's face paled. He glanced nervously at Maya, then at Carter, then back again. "You've got the AI?"
Maya nodded. "We've got it. But someone's after it—someone with a lot of resources and no qualms about killing anyone who gets in their way. We need to know who they are."
Gregor wiped a hand across his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "I don't know who's after you, but I've heard whispers. There's been a lot of chatter in certain circles—people talking about next-gen tech that could change the game. They're calling it 'adaptive intelligence.' AI that can evolve, learn, even improve itself."
Carter exchanged a glance with Maya. "Sounds like Elle."
Gregor nodded quickly. "It's not just the military that's interested. Corporations, private contractors—hell, even mercenary groups. They all want a piece of it. Whoever controls that AI controls the future."
Maya's eyes hardened. "So who's making the moves? Who's pulling the strings?"
Gregor swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for a nearby bottle. "There's a name I've heard—Apex Industries. They're a shadow company, one of those places that doesn't exist on paper but has its hands in everything. If they're after your AI, you're in serious trouble."
Carter sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course we are."
Maya straightened, her jaw clenched. "Where can we find them?"
Gregor shook his head. "You don't find Apex. They find you. If they're after you, it's already too late."
Carter's grin faded as the reality of their situation sank in. They weren't just dealing with a handful of hired guns—they were up against a global player with resources beyond their wildest nightmares.
"So what now?" Carter asked, turning to Maya.
Maya's expression was unreadable, but there was a steely determination in her eyes. "Now, we figure out how to stop them."