A'ishah's POV

I dropped instantly, pressing myself into the dirt as Clifford moved to shield me. My breathing was shallow, my entire body tense.

A single red dot flickered against the bark of a nearby tree.

Laser sight.

Someone was aiming at us. And they weren’t just watching anymore.

I barely had time to react before Clifford moved. He pushed me lower against the dirt, his body shielding mine as he scanned the trees. His voice was low but urgent.

“They’ve got eyes on us.”

The red laser flickered, shifting slightly. Whoever was behind the scope was adjusting their aim.

Clifford’s hand pressed against my back. “On my signal, you run. Don’t stop until you reach the car.”

My breath caught. “What about you?”

“I’ll cover you.” He said, his eyes never leaving the treetops.

“No.” I whispered sharply. “We move together.”

“A’ishah—”

“I’m not leaving you behind, Clifford.”

His jaw clenched, but before he could argue, the laser dot vanished.

Silence.

And then, a shot rang out.

I flinched as a bullet slammed into the tree beside us, bark splintering from the impact. Clifford grabbed my wrist and pulled me up.

“Go!”

We ran.

The forest blurred around me as adrenaline took over. I could hear Clifford just behind me, his footsteps heavy but controlled. Another shot fired, hitting the ground inches from my foot.

Shit.

I veered left, weaving between trees, making my movements unpredictable. Clifford did the same, zigzagging to avoid becoming an easy target.

The car was in sight.

But so was a figure, standing near it.

Dressed in black, partially hidden by the darkness.

Waiting.

I barely had time to register what was happening before Clifford yanked me behind another tree. His breathing was controlled, but his grip on my wrist was tight.

“They’re not just watching.” I murmured. “They’re hunting us.”

Clifford’s eyes darkened. “Yeah. And we just walked right into it.”

Clifford’s grip on my wrist was firm, grounding me even as my heart pounded. The figure by the car hadn’t moved, standing eerily still, like they were waiting for something. For us.

“They knew we’d come here.” I whispered.

Clifford’s jaw tightened. “We’re getting out of here. One way or another.”

Another gunshot echoed through the trees, this one closer. I felt the impact of the bullet against the tree bark behind me, splinters flying into my skin.

We had to move.

Clifford scanned the area, his mind working fast. Then, he nudged me, his voice low. “We split up. You take the slope down to the left, keep low, and circle back to the road. I’ll draw their attention.”

“No.” I hissed. “We’re not separating—”

Another shot cut through the night. This time, Clifford grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look at him. His expression was hard, but his voice was controlled.

“A’ishah. Listen to me. They don’t want me. They want you. If we stay together, we’re both dead.”

I swallowed, my pulse hammering. He wasn’t wrong. Whoever these people were, they had been waiting for me.

I clenched my fists. “I’ll find a way back to you.”

Clifford smirked despite the situation. “You better.”

Then, before I could argue further, he was moving. A rock flew from his hand, crashing through the undergrowth on the opposite side. Immediately, another shot rang out, following the noise.

He sprinted toward the right, drawing fire away from me.

I turned and ran.

The slope was steep, the ground uneven, but I forced myself to keep moving. Twigs snapped under my feet, my breathing shallow as I ducked low, using the shadows to my advantage.

The gunfire behind me continued, but I didn’t dare look back. Clifford could handle himself. He had to.

I broke through the treeline, stumbling onto the empty road. The car was still ahead, but the figure was gone.

Or so I thought.

A hand clamped over my mouth.

I thrashed, but a strong arm wrapped around my waist, locking me in place. My muffled scream was swallowed by the darkness as my captor leaned in, their breath hot against my ear.

“Shh… You’ve been very hard to find, Miss Alvarez.”

My blood ran cold.

I struggled, twisting my body, but the grip on me was like iron. My captor dragged me backward into the shadows, their strength overwhelming. I kicked at their legs, but they barely reacted.

“Stop fighting.” The voice murmured, calm but firm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

I bit down on the hand covering my mouth. Hard.

The man cursed, his grip loosening just enough for me to break free. I staggered forward, my heartbeat thundering in my ears as I spun to face him.

The moonlight barely touched his face, but I could see the glint of sharp eyes, a scar cutting across his jaw. He was dressed in dark clothing—tactical, professional.

Not just some hired thug.

He exhaled, shaking his hand where I had bitten him. “You’re exactly like they said you’d be.”

I clenched my fists. “Who the hell are you?”

He tilted his head slightly. “No one you need to know. But I do have a message.”

My body tensed. “From who?”

He smirked. “Maxine.”

My stomach dropped.

Before I could react, he lunged. I barely had time to dodge as he grabbed for me again. I twisted, aiming a sharp elbow toward his ribs, but he anticipated it, catching my arm and yanking me forward.

Pain shot up my shoulder as he slammed me against a tree.

“The package was meant for you.” He said, his tone eerily casual, as if he wasn’t pinning me down. “Too bad you got here late.”

“What was inside?” I hissed, struggling against his hold.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He murmured. “But for now—”

A sharp whistle cut through the air. The man stiffened, eyes flicking to the side. I used the distraction to drive my knee up into his gut.

He grunted, grip loosening just enough. I twisted free, stumbling backward just as headlights flooded the road.

A car.

The tires screeched as it swerved, heading straight for us.

The man swore under his breath and leapt back into the shadows just as the car came to a sudden stop beside me.

The passenger door flew open.

“A’ishah!” Clifford’s voice. “Get in!”

I didn’t hesitate. I dove into the car, slamming the door shut as Clifford hit the gas. The tires spun, gravel spraying as we tore down the road.

I twisted in my seat, breath coming fast. The man was gone, swallowed by the darkness.

I turned back to Clifford, my hands shaking. “They were waiting for me.”

His grip tightened on the wheel. “I know.”

I inhaled sharply, trying to steady myself. “We need to find out what was in that box.”

Clifford’s jaw was set, his eyes locked on the road. “We will.”

“We have to go back there, Clifford. But when the sun comes out, nalang.” I sighed. “I'm sorry I didn't think much of the danger waiting for me. All I wanted was…” I paused.

Because all I wanted was to serve justice for the two most important people in my life.

Maxine and Nicole.

“Yeah. But before we do that, we should get some sleep, A'ishah.”

“Of course.” I nodded my head even though I'm not sure if I could sleep after what happened.

The road stretched endlessly before us, swallowed by the darkness. The car’s engine hummed, filling the silence between us. I could still feel the phantom pressure of the man’s grip on my arms, the sting of bark against my back where he had slammed me into the tree. My pulse was only just beginning to slow, but the unease lingered, coiling in my stomach like a warning I couldn’t shake.

I turned my gaze to Clifford, watching his profile as he focused on the road. His hands were steady on the wheel, but his shoulders were tense, his jaw locked.

“I’m sorry.” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Clifford glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. “For what?”

“For dragging you into this.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You could’ve been hurt. Or worse. I should’ve thought it through before asking you to come with me.”

He let out a short breath, shaking his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like this is all on you.” He shot me a quick, knowing glance. “I’m here because I want to be. Because I’m your friend. And because, clearly, you weren’t going to let this go, whether I came with you or not.”

I bit my lip, looking away. He was right. Even if Clifford hadn’t come, I would have gone to that cabin alone. And with what happened tonight, I wasn’t sure I would’ve made it back.

“I’m glad I came with you.” He added, his voice softer this time. “That was dangerous, A’ishah. Someone knew you’d come. They were waiting. And if I hadn’t been there…” He trailed off, but I understood what he meant.

If he hadn’t been there, I might not have made it out at all.

The realization sent a shiver down my spine.

“Still,” I murmured. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Clifford huffed a quiet laugh. “Of course, I did. That’s what friends do. You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

I exhaled slowly, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “I've only had that with Nicole before. But now… she's gone.”

He didn’t answer right away, but I felt his gaze on me again, assessing. “Well, you have me now, too.”

Something tightened in my chest—not in fear, not in anxiety, but in gratitude.

I leaned my head back against the seat, exhaustion creeping in. “We have to go back there.” I said again, more to myself than to him. “But when the sun comes up.”

“Yeah.” Clifford agreed. “But before we do that, we should get some sleep, A’ishah.”

I let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Sleep?” I murmured. “I don’t know if I can after tonight.”

“You have to try.” He said simply. “We don’t know what we’re walking into. You need to be ready.”

I sighed but nodded. He was right. Again.

As we drove further away from the cabin, my mind raced with possibilities. Who sent that package? What was inside before it was taken? And why was my name on it?

Whoever left it there wanted me to find it. And whoever took whatever was inside…

They wanted to make sure I never did.

“Before we find a place to sleep, can we get strawberry taho? I've been wanting to taste it.” Clifford suggested out of nowhere.

I chuckled lightly. “Seriously?”

“What? They said it's good!” He argued. “Mag-uumaga na rin naman, A'ishah. It will be our breakfast.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes, stopping myself from laughing when he punched the air happily.

What a kid.

Maxine's POV

We'll talk in the morning, she said. It has been two mornings and she still hasn't come back.

I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that she left like that, or the fact that I actually believed she’d come back.

The first morning, I told myself she was just busy. That maybe she got caught up with the case, with work, with whatever the hell excuse she was probably using to justify walking away.

The second morning, I woke up with my fingers curled around that damn picture again, the edges nearly worn out from how much I’d held onto it. And she was still nowhere to be found.

Lovely, of course, had plenty to say about it.

“Damn, Colonel, I think your wifey ghosted you.” She teased, lying on her cot with an arm thrown over her eyes. “That’s rough.”

I shot her a glare. “Shut up, Lovely.”

She hummed, completely unfazed. “You sure you didn’t scare her off? I mean, I’d be intimidated too if my ex looked at me like she wanted to eat me alive and strangle me at the same time.”

I gritted my teeth, throwing myself back against the cold wall of the cell. “She’s not my ex.”

Lovely snorted. “Right. That’s why she hasn’t come back, and you look like someone killed your dog.”

I didn’t answer. Because what the hell was I supposed to say?

That I’d spent the last two days replaying every single second of our encounter? That I could still hear her voice, still feel the warmth of her skin when my fingers barely brushed against hers?

That I wanted to see her so fucking badly it was driving me insane?

No.

I wasn’t going to say shit.

Instead, I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the restless energy in my chest.

The third morning came, and she was still gone.

I should’ve known better.

The cold, stiff mattress did nothing to ease the ache in my back, but I barely noticed. Sleep had been a luxury, slipping through my fingers every time I closed my eyes, only to be replaced by the same questions looping in my head. Was she really not coming back? Was this her way of telling me I didn’t matter anymore? Or was I just stupid for believing, even for a second, that I still did?

The murmurs from the other inmates were quieter now, but the judgment in their eyes hadn’t faded. At first, they’d whispered about my rank.

How the hell did a Colonel end up in a place like this? Some scoffed, called it karma. Others threw me looks filled with disgust, some with twisted amusement.

"Sa wakas, naranasan rin ng isa sa kanila yung kahayupang ginagawa nila sa atin dito." I overheard yesterday.

I didn’t react. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

But today, as I moved through the routine, breakfast at a table where no one wanted to sit near me, work duty where the guards barely acknowledged me, and hours of mind-numbing nothingness in my cell, it was harder to ignore the weight of their stares.

Lovely, at least, didn’t treat me any differently. If anything, she seemed amused by my misery.

Ate Carmen is the same, but she's always with everyone else. Chismis at its finest.

“You know, Colonel, I don’t think you’ve even blinked since breakfast.” She mused, tossing a balled-up piece of paper at me. It bounced off my shoulder, and I barely flinched. “Damn. You really thought she’d come back, huh?”

I clenched my jaw. “Mind your business, Lovely.”

She whistled lowly. “Oof. That bad?”

I said nothing.

What was I supposed to say? That my hands had started shaking this morning, reaching for a phone that wasn’t there? That every time footsteps echoed down the hall, I looked up, half-expecting to see her standing there?

Pathetic.

The walls of this place were closing in on me, and A’ishah was still nowhere to be found.

The fourth morning came. Still nothing.

By now, I wasn’t sure if I was furious or just numb. Probably both.

I sat on my cot, arms resting on my knees, staring at the dull gray walls of my cell. The air felt heavier today, pressing down on my chest. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was the realization settling in my bones that she wasn’t coming back.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up just as a guard stopped in front of my cell.

“You’ve got visitors.” He said.

Visitors?

I frowned. My family wouldn’t come. I told them not to anymore. A’ishah? No, I wasn’t that lucky.

I forced myself to stand, rolling my shoulders before stepping out. The guard led me down the halls, past the curious stares of other inmates, until we reached the visitor’s room.

And there they were.

Detective Santos. Detective Morales. Detective Osorio. And, of course, Cleo, who was already smirking like she owned the damn place.

“Colonel.” Santos greeted, his expression unreadable as he leaned against the table. “It’s been a while.”

I crossed my arms. “If you’re here to tell me how tragic my downfall is, don’t waste my time.”

“On the contrary,” Morales said, sliding into a chair. “We’re here for business.”

I arched a brow. “Business?”

Osorio nodded. “Cobra’s moving again.”

For a second, I forgot about the cell, the whispers, the aching weight in my chest. My mind shifted into something familiar, the case.

“They’re still active?” I asked, voice sharper now.

Santos sighed. “Not just active. They’re regrouping.”

“This time, Boa is all in. They won't make it easy for us.” Morales added. “We’re trying to figure out how and who.”

I sat down, my fingers drumming against the table. “I had their operations pinned before everything went to hell. But if they’re resurfacing, it means they’re adapting.”

Santos slid a file toward me. “That’s why we need you. You know them better than anyone.”

I opened it, scanning the reports. My brain kicked into overdrive, piecing together information, spotting patterns.

Cleo, of course, leaned closer, her chin resting on her palm as she watched me.

“You know, Colonel.” She drawled, “even in prison, you look dangerously attractive.”

I didn’t even look up. “Flirt with me again and I’ll stab you with this pen.”

Morales snorted. “Jesus, Cleo. Can you behave for one conversation?”

“No.” Cleo said shamelessly. “Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve seen her. Can’t blame a girl for appreciating the view.”

I ignored her, flipping through the files. “When and where was their last activity?”

Morales leaned forward, tapping the file with two fingers. “Two weeks ago. A raid in Manila. Cargo shipment turned into a bloodbath. Six dead, four injured, all our men.”

I frowned, scanning the details. Then I saw a sentence written in bold letters. “Boa’s signature?”

Osorio nodded grimly. “Bullets laced with ricin. Quick, painful deaths.”

Santos folded his arms. “We thought we had them cornered, but they’re moving smarter. No traces, no patterns. It’s like they already know our next move.”

I flipped to the next page, my mind racing. “That’s because they do.”

The detectives exchanged looks.

“Boa isn’t just a hired gun. This person is a tactician.” I tapped on a particular name buried in the reports. “And this person is not working alone.”

Morales frowned. “You think someone’s feeding her intel?”

I looked up, locking eyes with him. “I don’t think. I know.”

There was only one way Boa was staying three steps ahead, a mole. Someone's a snitch.

Santos cursed under his breath. “If that’s true, we’re screwed.”

Osorio rubbed his temples. “Shit. You wouldn’t have any ideas on who it could be, would you?”

I smirked, leaning back. “Come on, Detective. You didn’t come all the way here just to hand me a file. You came because you knew I’d already have an idea.”

There was a long pause of silence. Then Cleo grinned. “God, I’ve missed you.”

I closed the file, tapping my fingers against the table as I studied their faces. Santos, ever the professional, tried to hide his unease, but his jaw was tight. Morales had that skeptical look, like he was still weighing the risks, while Osorio was waiting for my next move. And Cleo? Well, she looked downright entertained.

I leaned forward. “Let’s make a deal.”

Santos narrowed his eyes. “A deal?”

I smirked. “You need me, Santos. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. You’re dealing with Cobra, and Boa is ten steps ahead of you. If there’s a mole, you’re already compromised.” I gestured at the files. “You don’t just need intel. You need someone who thinks like them, someone who can predict their next move.”

Morales scoffed. “And you’re saying that’s you?”

I met his gaze without hesitation. “You know it is.”

Silence stretched between us.

Santos exhaled, rubbing his temple. “You want us to help you in exchange for your help with Cobra.”

I nodded. “Give me resources, legal backing, and a path out of this mess, and I’ll give you Cobra on a silver platter.”

Santos let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s a bold request coming from a woman in handcuffs.”

I shrugged. “Then walk away. Go ahead and try to crack this case without me.” I leaned back, smirking. “But we both know you won’t.”

His jaw clenched. “You’re a liability, Maxine.”

“And you’re out of options.” I shot back.

Morales shifted, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She has a point, Santos.”

Santos remained silent, his mind working through the consequences. I could see the conflict in his eyes.

Then Cleo, of course, decided to add fuel to the fire.

“Oh, come on, Santos.” She propped her elbow on the table, grinning. “I know you don’t like admitting it, but Maxine’s the best damn strategist you’ve got. Without her, you’re just chasing shadows.” She tilted her head, her tone turning teasing. “Unless you’re scared of working with her?”

Santos shot her a glare. “This isn’t a joke, Cleo.”

She raised her hands in mock surrender. “I never joke about important things. Like crime syndicates. Or ridiculously hot ex-colonels in prison.”

Morales groaned. “Cleo.”

She grinned, but I could see the calculation in her eyes. She wasn’t just stirring trouble, she was pushing Santos toward the inevitable conclusion.

But Santos wasn’t budging.

He finally straightened, his expression turning cold. “We don’t make deals sa mga taong may sabit sa batas kagaya mo.” He grabbed the file and stood. “We can handle this without you.”

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move.

Just smirked.

Because he was lying.

They couldn’t handle this without me. And he knew it.

The guards didn’t say a word as they escorted me back to my cell, but I caught a few curious glances from the other inmates. News traveled fast in here. They all probably knew I had visitors, and some were already speculating.

Not that I cared.

I was still thinking about Santos and his bullshit when I stepped into my cell, but something immediately felt off.

Lovely was sitting on her bunk, staring at the floor, arms crossed, jaw clenched.

That was new.

Normally, she had something to say the moment I walked in, usually some smart-ass comment or an exaggerated complaint about prison food. But now? Not a word.

I smirked, leaning against the bars. “Wow, did you finally run out of things to say?”

Nothing. She didn't even threw me a glance.

I narrowed my eyes. “Lovely?”

She didn’t move.

Huh. Weird.

I walked over, nudging her foot with mine. “Hoy, anong problema mo?”

Finally, she snapped her head up, her eyes burning with something ugly. Anger. Resentment. Something deeper.

“Did you know Osorio?” She demanded.

I blinked. “What?”

She stood up so fast that the bed creaked under the movement. “That police officer you were talking to earlier, Detective Osorio. Did you know her?”

I frowned, processing the sudden hostility. “Yeah, I know her. She’s part of the Special Unit. Why?”

Lovely let out a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Of course.” She muttered, shaking her head. Then her eyes snapped back to me, furious. “Let me guess. She came here to offer you a deal? Asking for your help with some big case?”

I stiffened.

She was oddly specific about that.

I studied her carefully. “And what if she did?”

Lovely’s fists clenched.

“That bitch.” She spat, voice shaking. “She used me. Just like she’s about to use you.”

My brows furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Lovely scoffed, taking a step closer. “You really don’t know, do you?” Her voice dropped, bitter and cold. “Osorio is my ex.”

What the hell? My blood ran cold.

Osorio is her ex-girlfriend that framed her?

I’d worked with Osorio before. She was sharp, ambitious. But this? This was something else.

~~~

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