The streets of the small town had returned to their usual quiet by the time Nathan and his team left the clinic. The festival had provided a moment of peace, but the reality of their situation loomed over them like a storm cloud. They had secured a valuable ally in Dr. Jonathan, but The Syndicate would not remain oblivious to their movements for long.

They moved swiftly through the back alleys, avoiding the main roads. Mason led the way, taking them through a less-traveled route out of town. The plan was to reach an abandoned train yard a few miles away, where Axel had stashed a vehicle for their escape.

But trouble had already found them.

Nathan sensed it first—the eerie stillness in the air, the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His instincts, honed from years of survival, screamed at him.

“We’re being watched,” he murmured.

Mason’s hand went to his concealed weapon, and Eli tensed, scanning their surroundings. Lila stayed close to Nathan, her fingers gripping the handle of her knife. They continued walking, but their pace quickened.

Then, a voice broke the silence.

“Well, well. Look what we have here.”

The group spun around to find three figures blocking their path, dressed in civilian clothes but carrying themselves with the unmistakable confidence of trained operatives. The lead man, tall with slicked-back hair and cold, calculating eyes, smirked. A sleeve of his shirt was slightly rolled up, revealing a glimpse of a tattoo—a serpent intertwined with a dagger.

A Syndicate mark.

“Did you really think you could wander around without us noticing?” the man continued, tilting his head. “Nathan Bennett. Mason Calloway. Quite the reunion.”

Nathan’s expression remained impassive, but his mind was already calculating. Escape routes. Weaknesses. Weapons.

“Who are you?” Mason asked, though his grip on his gun tightened.

The man chuckled. “Call me Damian. And I’m here to offer you all a deal.”

Nathan’s jaw clenched. “We don’t make deals with The Syndicate.”

Damian sighed, feigning disappointment. “That’s a shame. Because you see, our superiors are quite interested in you, Nathan. They’re willing to forgive a lot if you just come back. You know how valuable you are.”

Nathan’s blood ran cold. It was the same tactic The Syndicate always used—manipulation wrapped in a thin veil of diplomacy.

“And if we refuse?” Axel asked, his fingers tapping against his belt, where a small blade was hidden.

Damian’s smirk widened. “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to make things… difficult.”

The air thickened with tension. The three operatives shifted slightly, hands inching toward concealed weapons.

Nathan moved first.

With lightning speed, he grabbed Lila’s wrist and pulled her behind him while drawing his gun. A single shot rang out, aimed not at Damian but at a nearby streetlamp, plunging the alley into darkness.

“Move!” Nathan ordered.

The group scattered. Eli kicked over a stack of crates, sending them crashing into the path of their pursuers. Mason fired a shot, forcing Damian and his men to take cover. Lila followed Nathan as they sprinted down the alley, their feet pounding against the pavement.

“Get to the train yard!” Axel called out.

Gunfire erupted behind them, bullets whizzing past. Nathan ducked behind a parked car, shielding Lila as he returned fire. Mason took cover behind a dumpster, taking precise shots at their attackers.

Damian’s voice rang out through the chaos. “You can’t run forever, Bennett! The Syndicate owns every shadow!”

Nathan ignored him, focusing on their escape.

Axel had already reached the train yard, breaking into an old maintenance garage where a black SUV was stashed. He hot-wired the vehicle as the others ran toward him.

“Get in!”

Mason covered their retreat, laying down suppressive fire before diving into the backseat. Nathan jumped in last, pulling Lila in beside him as Axel slammed the gas pedal. The tires screeched against the concrete, sending up a cloud of dust as they sped away.

Through the rearview mirror, Nathan saw Damian standing in the alley, watching them go. Not pursuing. Not panicking.

Just watching.

A chill ran down Nathan’s spine. This wasn’t over.

Not even close.