The storm had calmed down. But inside the diner the air was so thick a sharp knife could cut through it. The words unsaid electrified the tension.
San leaned against the rusty and dusty wall lost deep in the thoughts and with a heart full of anguish. He tapped his pockets and found a cigarette. He put it in his mouth and tapped his pockets again for a lighter but couldn't find one. And at that moment all the anguish, betrayal and pain he was feeling was transferred to the cigarette.
He removed it from his mouth, shoved it on the floor and cursed under his breath.
He turned around but he didn't want to look at Jenny.
He hadn't even glanced at her. Not yet.
"Give me the drive," he said finally.
Then there was a pause.
Jenny stared into his eyes, trying to keep contact with him but San wouldn't even look at her.
Jenny hesitated for half a second before reaching into her jacket. The flash drive felt heavier than ever, like it had absorbed every betrayal, every lie she'd ever told. She handed it to him without a word.
Deep down, she hoped it wasn't the end of her. A thousand thoughts went through her mind as she was giving him the drive.
San pulled out a secure laptop from under the diner counter—one he'd stashed there long ago—and inserted the drive. The screen flickered to life, casting a pale blue glow across his face.
Files unfolded like a nightmare: surveillance images of San, mission logs, Bureau memos marked CONFIDENTIAL. Jenny's recruitment file appeared. Her photo. Her psych eval. Redacted lines.
And then the audio logs.
"…Asset Parker will gain his trust, uncover internal fractures. Priority is extraction or elimination of San Moretti, depending on threat level."
"…If Parker fails, contingency protocol Siren-X is authorized."
Jenny's knees buckled, but she stayed standing.
She could only stay standing for a few seconds but when San turned at her with the look of disgust, she gave into her knees and fell on the ground.
San kissed his teeth slightly as he rolled his eyes back to the laptop.
Another file loaded—grainy video from a boardroom. Colhart, and two other Bureau officials she didn't recognize.
"She had compromised," one said.
"Then we burn her. Along with Moretti."
San slammed the laptop shut.
He put his arm on the table of where the laptop was and supported his face with his mouth.
He came through his head with his hand.
Silence.
He finally looked at her.
"So it's all true," he said.
Jenny opened her mouth in an attempt to say something in her defence. Nothing came to mind so she closed it.
"Was any of it real?" he asked. "Anything?"
"I didn't mean to feel anything," she whispered.
San let out a humorless laugh. "But you did. And now I'm the one bleeding for it."
"I didn't plan—"
"No," he snapped, stepping closer. "You just didn't care."
"That's not fair. I fought for you. I ran with you."
"Because you knew they'd kill you too," he said coldly. "Don't paint yourself as the martyr here."
Jenny's voice broke. "Then why are we still here? Why did you run with me, San?"
His jaw flexed. For a second, something in his eyes cracked.
"Because the one thing I hate more than betrayal is the man they want me to become."
"The monster they think they know in me is nothing but the Angel I decided to show them. All this will bring out the demon in me!" He continued in a loud angry voice.
They stood in that ruin, soaked and fractured, no longer enemies but not quite allies either. Jenny's eyes were filled with pain. Not because of everything that had just happened. But because the man she had feelings for, was disgusted with her.
Then San's phone buzzed.
He checked it. Just a number. No name.
They found you. Five minutes.
He cursed under his breath. "We move. Now."
Jenny hesitated to continue moving with San. But she continued.
They grabbed what little gear they had and slipped into the storm again. Shadows moved behind dumpsters. Black vans rolled slowly through the streets. The game had changed—now it was survival.
Jenny followed San through alleys slick with rain, through a storm drain that reeked of rust and rot, and finally to a decrepit brownstone hidden between two construction sites. He keyed in an old code. The door opened with a creak.
The safehouse.
Inside, it smelled like dust and memories. Old weapons lined a hidden wall. A map of the city marked with pins and blood stains.
Jenny collapsed onto the threadbare couch.
Never in the history of her revenge did she even imagine she was going to be caught up in the middle of being wanted by the police and by some members of a gang.
San didn't sit. He went straight to the small metal box on the shelf and pulled out a faded photo—of a woman and a young boy.
He stared at it for a long time.
"She was the first person they used against me," he said. "My mother."
Jenny stood slowly. "What happened?"
"They told her to keep me close. To steer me away from my father's legacy. But when she said no… she didn't wake up the next morning."
Jenny swallowed hard. "San—"
Before she could finish, the laptop on the table lit up, unprompted.
A black screen. Then static.
Then a masked face, voice distorted beyond recognition.
"Well done, Jenny Parker. You led him perfectly."
Jenny staggered back. San stepped between her and the laptop.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
The figure chuckled. "That's not important. What matters is what happens next."
The screen split.
On one side, the masked figure.
On the other—Rose. Bound. Bruised. Gagged. Fear in her eyes.
Jenny's breath caught.
"You son of a—"
"Quiet," the voice snapped. "You're going to bring him to us. Or we kill her."
San stared at the screen. Then at Jenny.
His voice was ice.
"You better start talking, Parker. Because if she dies—you die too."