The blinking timer on the detonator illuminated the masked man's smug posture. Each number counted down like the thud of Alex's heartbeat—45, 44, 43.
"You've got less than a minute, Alex," the masked man taunted. "Heroics or survival—what's it going to be?"
Alex's mind raced. The warehouse was a death trap, rigged to collapse under the explosion's force. Victor and Emilia were clear, but he wasn't sure how far they'd gotten. If he didn't act fast, they might not make it.
"Tick-tock," the masked man said, his finger hovering over the switch.
Alex steadied his breath, forcing himself to focus. He couldn't let panic cloud his judgment. His eyes darted to the rafters above, spotting a set of exposed pipes running along the ceiling. An idea formed, reckless but possible.
"Why don't you come down here and settle this like a man?" Alex said, his voice cold and cutting.
The masked man chuckled. "Always so predictable. But I don't need to play your game anymore."
Alex smirked. "You're right. You don't. Because I've already won."
The masked man's expression faltered, just for a moment. It was all Alex needed.
In one fluid motion, Alex raised his gun and fired at the pipes above. The bullet struck true, rupturing the line and sending a jet of pressurized steam into the air. The masked man cursed, stumbling back as the steam enveloped him.
Alex sprinted toward the detonator. The timer read 25 seconds.
He reached it just as the masked man emerged from the steam, his gun aimed directly at Alex's head.
"Don't," the man growled.
Alex didn't hesitate. He grabbed the detonator and yanked the wiring loose, severing the connection. The timer froze at 15 seconds.
For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then the masked man laughed, low and menacing.
"Well played," he said, lowering his weapon slightly. "But you're still not getting out of here alive."
Alex didn't respond. He lunged forward, tackling the masked man to the ground. The two of them grappled, fists flying as they rolled across the concrete floor.
"You think this ends with me?" the man sneered, throwing a punch that Alex barely dodged. "The Syndicate will never stop hunting you."
Alex's fist connected with the man's jaw, silencing him. "Let them try."
The masked man twisted, breaking free from Alex's grip. He scrambled to his feet, pulling a knife from his belt.
Alex rose as well, his body tense. The two of them circled each other, the tension crackling like static electricity.
"You don't even know the full story," the masked man said, his voice dripping with malice. "Everything you think you know about Emilia—it's a lie."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
The man smirked. "Ask her yourself. If you survive."
Before Alex could react, the man pressed a button on his wrist. A second set of explosives detonated, this time in the far corner of the warehouse. The force of the blast knocked Alex off his feet, debris raining down as flames spread rapidly.
The masked man took advantage of the chaos, disappearing into the smoke.
Alex coughed, his lungs burning as he staggered to his feet. The fire was spreading fast, consuming everything in its path. He had to move.
He navigated through the collapsing warehouse, his every step a gamble as the floor threatened to give way. The exit loomed ahead, a small rectangle of light amidst the smoke and flames.
But just as Alex reached it, he heard a faint sound—a groan.
He turned, his heart sinking. One of the operatives was pinned beneath a fallen beam, struggling weakly.
Alex hesitated. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to save himself. But he couldn't.
He rushed to the man's side, ignoring the searing heat.
"Hold still," Alex said, grabbing the edge of the beam.
The operative stared at him, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Why… why are you helping me?"
Alex gritted his teeth, straining against the weight of the beam. "Because I'm not like you."
With one final effort, he freed the man and hauled him to his feet.
"Go," Alex said, shoving him toward the exit.
The operative didn't need to be told twice. He stumbled out, disappearing into the night.
Alex followed, collapsing onto the pavement just as the warehouse erupted into a fiery inferno.
Victor's car screeched to a halt nearby, and he jumped out, his face pale.
"Alex!" he shouted, running over.
"I'm fine," Alex said, his voice hoarse. "What about Emilia?"
"She's safe," Victor said, helping Alex to his feet. "But you look like hell."
Alex managed a faint smirk. "Feel like it too."
They climbed into the car, Victor driving them away from the burning wreckage.
As the adrenaline faded, Alex's mind returned to the masked man's words.
Everything you think you know about Emilia—it's a lie.
He glanced at her in the backseat, unconscious but alive.
"Victor," Alex said quietly. "We need answers. And fast."
Victor nodded, his expression grim. "What's the plan?"
Alex stared out the window, the flames of the warehouse reflecting in his eyes.
"We find out the truth," he said. "No matter what it takes."
To Be Continued...