The Devil You Know

The train had barely pulled into a derelict rail station on the outskirts of Budapest when Jessica, Leanna, Olivia, and Daniel slipped into the shadows of the platform. The city’s neon lights flickered in the distance, distorted by the drizzle falling from the low-hanging clouds.

Jessica pulled her hood up, eyes scanning the surroundings. "This is the place?"

Olivia checked her phone. "The coordinates match. Whoever sent the message wants to meet inside that warehouse."

Leanna exhaled. "And if it’s a trap?"

Jessica tightened her grip on the concealed pistol in her jacket. "Then we leave bodies behind."

Leanna flatly replied, "That’s the plan for every meeting, Jess."

"Hell of a foreign policy," Daniel muttered.

The group moved carefully through the rain-slicked alleyways until they reached the entrance of the warehouse. The massive steel doors were ajar, revealing only darkness inside. Jessica exchanged glances with Leanna before stepping in first, Olivia and Daniel close behind.

The interior smelled of rust and damp concrete. Stacks of abandoned crates lined the walls, their labels faded from decades of neglect. A single hanging bulb flickered above a wooden table in the center of the room.

A figure stepped out from the shadows. Tall. Black trench coat. Movements like a man who’d never needed to hurry a day in his life. Jessica froze for half a heartbeat. She knew that silhouette. That voice. The last time she’d heard it had been through gun smoke and the ringing aftermath of betrayal.

Mr. Black. Of course it was him. Her pulse kicked, not from fear, but from history.

"You made it," he said smoothly, voice edged like glass under velvet. "Which means you have the files."

Jessica didn’t lower her guard. Didn’t blink. "That’s a hell of a long way from dead."

He smiled — thin, unreadable. "Death’s never been much of a professional obstacle."

Leanna stepped in, flat and unimpressed. "Cut the theater. What do you want?"

Black’s eyes moved between them, measuring, cataloging. Always calculating.

"Vanguard built me once," he said. "Then they tried to erase me." He paused a beat for emphasis, "I figure that gives us overlapping interests."

He stepped closer, unarmed but dangerous in every line of his body. "You’re on borrowed time. Vanguard knows you have those files. They will come for you, and they won't send shadows this time. They’ll send fire."

Jessica’s jaw tightened.

"And you're just here out of the goodness of your heart?" Leanna asked dryly.

"Please," Black said, almost amused. "This isn’t charity."

His gaze settled on Jessica like a weight. "It’s leverage."

Jessica narrowed her eyes. "And what do you get in return?"

He gestured toward the files Olivia was clutching. "I want copies of everything you took. The world doesn’t just need to know about Project Veil. It needs proof."

"Information is leverage," he continued. "You're going to need all you can get."

Olivia shot a glance at Jessica, hesitating. Jessica exhaled, then turned to Olivia. "If things go south, we cut and run. Either way, you get your story."

Olivia nodded, her grip tightening around the bag. "Understood."

The man watched them carefully. "So, do we have a deal? Or do you prefer to keep running until Vanguard inevitably catches up?"

Jessica didn’t answer right away. She knew one thing—this was a gamble. And they were running out of options.