Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Sector 4
Marcus dropped Leo back onto the floor. The young boy stumbled back into the arms of the terrified woman who had been trying to protect him.
"Cover the door!" Marcus screamed at his partner, his voice cracking with pure terror. "Shoot him! SHOOT HIM NOW!"
The second robber raised his tactical shotgun and aimed it directly at the glass door. But Arthur didn't run. He didn't take cover. He casually tossed the apple core into a nearby trash bin, reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out a small black device no larger than a key fob.
He pressed the red button once.
BOOM!
The heavy bulletproof glass doors didn't shatter—they unlocked with a thunderous mechanical click as the bank's entire smart-grid security system went dark. The emergency lights cut out, plunging the bank lobby into pitch-black darkness, illuminated only by the rhythmic crimson flash of the silent alarm.
Panic erupted. The hostages screamed, pressing themselves flatter against the floor.
"Fire! Fire!" Marcus yelled, blind in the dark.
The sound of shotgun blasts roared through the lobby, echoing off the high ceilings. BANG! BANG! Muzzle flashes illuminated the room in jagged bursts of light. But each flash revealed nothing—Arthur was moving through the dark like a specter, his footsteps completely silent.
A heavy groan echoed from near the teller counter. THUD.
The second robber hit the floor, his shotgun clattering away. He didn't even have time to fire a third shot.
Marcus spun around, sweeping his knife wildly through the air. "Arthur! Show yourself, you coward! You abandoned us! You left the Syndicate to rot!"
"I didn't abandon you, Marcus," a voice rasped from directly behind him, inches from his ear. "I retired."
Marcus lunged backward with the blade, executing a lethal strike taught only to elite covert operatives. But his wrist was caught mid-air in a grip like an iron vise. A sickening CRACK echoed through the lobby as Marcus’s wrist was snapped backward. The knife dropped, but before it hit the floor, a hand caught it mid-air.
Arthur swept Marcus's legs out from under him, slamming the masked man onto his back. In less than three seconds, the conflict was over. Marcus lay gasping for air, the point of his own knife hovering a millimeter above his throat.
The lobby went dead quiet again.
Arthur leaned down, his voice low and cold. "Who sent you to this specific bank, Marcus? Don't lie to me. You aren't bank robbers. You're asset retrievers."
Marcus choked out a bloody laugh. "You... you think this was about the money in the vault? Look at your son, Arthur. Look at the kid!"
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Arthur turned his head slowly toward Leo.
Leo was standing up again, his face completely emotionless. The terrified woman who had been holding him was looking at the boy in absolute horror—because Leo was holding a small, high-tech tracking disk he had secretly pulled from the bottom of his own boot.
