The sound of footsteps echoes down the corridor as I press myself against the cold concrete wall. My tranq gun feels heavy in my hand—Smithers' latest design, compact but deadly effective. The Blackburn guards are closing in, their radios crackling with orders to find me. Three days they've kept me here, asking questions I refused to answer. Three days of "enhanced interrogation" that left me with more bruises than answers.

I peek around the corner, spotting two guards at the end of the hallway. With a steady breath, I raise my weapon and fire twice in quick succession. Both men slump to the floor, tranq darts finding their marks. Not dead—just sleeping. For now.

I move silently down the corridor, every muscle coiled with tension. That's when I hear voices ahead—people who shouldn't be here. Not Blackburn security. Not MI6 extraction. Just... ordinary people? Or so they seem.

"Can you make me one of those?" A woman's voice asks excitedly, referring to my weapon.

"Not now, woman!" A man whisper-shouts back.

I step around the corner, weapon raised, to find two strangers staring at me—a woman with wild dark hair and a man in a hoodie clutching some kind of tech device. They look as surprised to see me as I am to see them.

"Are you guys trying to get out?" I ask, lowering my weapon slightly. They nod. "Lead the way, tiny ninja," the man says. I roll my eyes. Ninjas don't use guns. And it's Alex.

We make our escape through the compound, working together with an easy默契 that surprises me. When we finally burst through the exit into the sunlight, I blink against the brightness, relief washing over me—short-lived as more guards appear. I raise my weapon, ready to defend my newfound allies, when a voice stops me cold.

"Alex!"

I freeze, turning toward the sound. And there he is—older than I remember, but unmistakably him. The uncle I haven't seen since Jack died. The uncle who was just a soldier... or so I thought.

"Uncle Elliot?" I whisper, shock coursing through me. What is he doing here?