Lucent City's skyline shimmered in the evening light, the neon signs casting reflections on rain-slick streets. Zara adjusted the earpiece connected to Iris as she approached the towering museum. Tonight, the elite of the city had gathered for Victor Crane's charity gala. The invitation promised a night of fine art and generous donations, but Zara knew better. Behind the glitz and glamour, Crane was solidifying his grip on the city.
She stayed near the shadows, blending in with the steady stream of workers unloading catering equipment. Her cane tapped lightly against the pavement as she memorized the layout from the vibrations and echoes. The museum was massive, filled with sprawling exhibit halls and endless corridors, but Zara had prepared.
"Iris, are you tracking Elena?" Zara whispered.
"She's inside," Iris replied. "Second floor, near the west wing. She's using her press credentials to keep close to Crane."
Zara exhaled. Elena was brave, but her brash attitude often led to trouble. Zara wasn't sure whether she admired the journalist's fearlessness or found it infuriating. Either way, she couldn't let anything happen to her ally.
Slipping through the staff entrance, Zara navigated the service corridors. Every step was deliberate, her cane tapping in a rhythm that fed her constant awareness. She knew the security guards were focused on the gala floor, their attention on the high-profile guests rather than the hidden corners of the museum.
"Iris, status update," Zara said.
"Four guards on the first floor, two patrolling the west wing near the exhibit. Victor Crane is in the VIP lounge," Iris reported. "Accessing the lounge will require bypassing biometric security."
"I'll worry about that later," Zara muttered. "Let's focus on Elena first."
As Zara approached the staircase leading to the west wing, her heightened senses picked up faint whispers. She froze, leaning against the cool marble wall, and focused. Two guards were stationed just ahead, their conversation casual but alert.
"Did you see who just arrived?" one guard asked.
"Yeah, Senator Morales. Crane's got him wrapped around his finger," the other replied. "It's disgusting, the stuff these people get away with."
Zara smirked. Even Crane's own employees weren't blind to his corruption, but they still worked for him. That made them complicit.
"Distract them," Zara whispered to Iris.
Iris emitted a soft beep before a subtle vibration echoed through a nearby hallway. The sound was faint enough to seem like a mechanical malfunction, but loud enough to draw attention.
"What was that?" one guard said, his voice tense.
"Probably nothing. Still, we should check it out."
The guards moved toward the noise, leaving their post unguarded. Zara slipped past them, her movements silent and precise. She reached the west wing without incident and tapped her earpiece.
"Elena, where are you?" Zara whispered.
"I'm in the crowd," Elena replied, her voice hushed. "Crane's been making small talk with the mayor and a few CEOs. He hasn't said anything suspicious yet, but I'm sticking close."
"Elena, I need you to stay low-key," Zara said. "No heroics."
"Funny, coming from you," Elena retorted.
Zara sighed. There was no point arguing. Instead, she focused on her own task: finding Crane's private office. If her intel was correct, it was somewhere on this floor, hidden behind one of the exhibit walls.
The west wing was eerily quiet, the usual hum of visitors replaced by the muffled sounds of the gala below. Zara ran her fingers along the walls, feeling for any irregularities. Her cane tapped lightly against the floor, sending subtle vibrations that Iris translated into a mental map.
"There's a hidden panel ahead," Iris said. "Twelve steps to your left."
Zara followed Iris's guidance, her hand brushing against a small indentation in the wall. She pressed it, and the panel slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a narrow hallway. The air inside smelled faintly of leather and cigars—Crane's signature.
"Bingo," Zara whispered, stepping inside.
The hallway led to a sleek office filled with modern furniture and towering bookshelves. A large desk dominated the center of the room, its surface meticulously organized. Zara moved toward it, her fingers brushing against the cool glass.
"Iris, scan the desk," Zara said.
A faint vibration traveled up her wrist as Iris processed the surroundings. "There's a hidden compartment beneath the desk," Iris informed her. "Likely fingerprint-locked."
Zara smirked. "Good thing I came prepared."
From her belt, she pulled out a small device—a portable biometric override tool she'd acquired from an underground tech specialist. Placing it against the compartment, she waited as it emitted a series of soft beeps. Moments later, the lock clicked open.
Inside, Zara found a stack of files, a flash drive, and a sleek tablet. She pocketed the flash drive and quickly scanned the files. They were filled with shipping manifests, coded messages, and financial records linking Crane to the Red Vipers.
"This is it," Zara said. "Proof Crane's funding the weapons deals."
Before she could leave, Iris buzzed urgently. "Zara, two guards are approaching your position."
Zara's heart raced. She couldn't afford to get caught here. Grabbing the files, she slipped them into her bag and tapped her cane against the ground, assessing the room. A small ventilation duct in the corner caught her attention.
"It's a tight fit, but it'll do," she muttered.
Climbing onto the desk, Zara pried the vent cover open and slid inside, her body twisting to navigate the narrow space. The sound of the office door opening reached her ears as she crawled through the duct.
"Check the desk," one guard said. "Crane said to secure his files."
Zara held her breath, listening as the guards searched the room. After a few tense moments, she heard them leave, their footsteps fading into the distance.
Sliding out of the vent into another hallway, Zara adjusted her bag and tapped her earpiece. "Elena, I've got the files. Meet me at the rendezvous point."
"Zara, wait," Elena said, her voice panicked. "Something's wrong. Crane's security is acting weird. They're—"
The line went dead.
"Elena?" Zara called, her voice sharp. "Elena, respond!"
Iris buzzed. "Her signal has been jammed. She's still in the building."
Zara clenched her fists. Elena was in danger, and she wasn't about to leave her behind.