Lian and Kai sat in the back of the van as Mei drove through service roads on the outskirts of Yuen Long. The rain had stopped, but puddles still shimmered on the asphalt, and the sound of tires cutting through them felt louder than it should.
No one spoke for the first half hour.
The air inside the van was thick with smoke from Mei’s half-burnt cigarette, and the scent of gunpowder still clung to their clothes.
Kai finally broke the silence. “So that’s what you call moderate security?”
Mei exhaled smoke toward the window. “It was. Until you walked in.”
He looked at her through the rearview mirror. “You’re saying it’s my fault?”
“I’m saying they moved faster than I expected.” She flicked the cigarette out the window. “You both should be used to that by now.”
Lian’s voice came soft but edged. “He’s right to ask, Mei. That ambush wasn’t random.”
“I know.” Mei glanced at her. “The leak didn’t come from me.”
“I didn’t say it did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The silence that followed was sharp. They’d all seen enough betrayal to know suspicion came cheap and trust was expensive.
Kai rubbed his temples. “Can we stop arguing until I can feel my legs again? I think I left part of my rib cage under that warehouse.”
Mei gave him a faint smile. “You’re lucky you still have one.”
Lian leaned her head back, staring at the roof. “We need to decode that drive before they track it. Where can we set up?”
“I know a place,” Mei said. “It’s not far.”
The van rolled through the sleeping city until it reached a small fishing village. The kind of place that still smelled like the sea. Mei parked beside a run-down shop.
“Here?” Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Here,” Mei said. “The owner’s deaf and thinks I’m a traveling antiques dealer. Perfect cover.”
Inside, the space was cramped but quiet. A single table, a cot, and a narrow window overlooking the harbor. Mei locked the door and started unloading equipment from the duffel.
Kai sat cross-legged on the floor, connecting the stolen drive to his laptop. The blue light blinked to life, reflecting on his tired face.
After several minutes, Kai muttered, “Got it.”
Mei crouched beside him. “Show me.”
“This isn’t standard corporate encryption,” he said. “It’s modular.”
Lian frowned. “Meaning?”
“Meaning if I push too hard, it’ll wipe itself clean.”
Mei leaned back, arms crossed. “Then don’t push too hard.”
Kai glanced at her. “You want it cracked or not?”
Lian reached over, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time.”
He nodded. “I’ll need an offline relay. Something to mirror the data before it self-corrects.”
Mei stood, already pulling cables and drives from her bag. “Use this. It’s isolated.”
As Kai set it up, the air outside shifted. The wind carried the sound of distant waves hitting the shore. It was the first peaceful noise they’d heard in days.
Hours passed. The sky turned from gray to gold to dim blue again. The data finally began to unravel, line by line, until a map emerged — nodes connected by thin threads of code.
Lian leaned closer. “What are those?”
“Transmission points,” Kai said. “Looks like a network of relay hubs. If I’m right, these are data collection sites.”
Mei pointed at one of the flashing dots. “That one’s still active.”
“Location?” Lian asked.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Sham Shui Po,” Kai said. “Old district network hub. Probably hidden inside a telecom center.”
Mei exhaled. “That explains the rerouting signal. They’re using existing infrastructure.”
“Can you access it remotely?” Lian asked.
“Not without pinging their firewall. We’d have to get close.”
Lian’s gaze met Mei’s. “Then we go.”
Kai looked up sharply. “We just got out of a firefight.”
“We can’t wait,” she said. “If they trace this drive, every safehouse we’ve used is burned.”
Mei hesitated. “She’s right.”
Kai shut the laptop, running a hand through his hair. “You two really need a hobby that doesn’t involve getting shot at.”
Lian smiled faintly. “You chose this, remember?”
“I was sixteen,” he said. “You told me we’d be fixing cars.”
“You believed me.”
“I was naive.”
“You still are.”
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
By nightfall, they were ready. Mei handled transport, switching license plates twice before they even hit the highway.
They parked in an alley beside a faded building with telecom logos peeling off the walls.
Lian adjusted her jacket, eyes scanning the street. “Security?”
“Minimal,” Mei said. “Three floors. Maintenance entrance in the back.”
Kai pulled his backpack tighter. “Let’s make it fast.”
They slipped inside through a side door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. The air inside was dry and smelled of dust. Old cables hung from the ceiling, and the sound of humming servers echoed faintly through the halls.
Kai moved ahead, flashlight steady. “The relay should be upstairs.”
They climbed two flights quietly. Every step creaked. Lian’s hand hovered near her holster the entire time.
When they reached the top, a faint glow seeped from a room down the corridor. They paused. Lian signaled silently — hold position. She edged closer, peering inside.
Rows of small terminals blinked in sequence. A server rack sat in the center, its cooling fans spinning softly. On the monitor, lines of data scrolled endlessly, timestamps and code signatures updating in real time.
“This is it,” Kai whispered.
Mei plugged in a portable device, watching the data transfer bar appear on screen. “This’ll clone everything in five minutes.”
Lian scanned the hallway. “We don’t have five minutes.”
“I can speed it up,” Kai said. “But we’ll leave a trace.”
“Do it.”
He nodded and started typing. The numbers on the progress bar jumped faster. Mei kept an eye on the monitor, muttering under her breath. “Come on, come on…”
Then Lian froze. Her instincts prickled again. That stillness in the air that didn’t belong.
A faint sound drifted from below — boots on tile. Not many, but enough.
She whispered, “We’ve got company.”
Mei cursed softly. “How?”
“Doesn’t matter. How long?”
“Two minutes.”
“Make it one.”
They could hear voices now. Male, low, professional. LSK operatives again. The sound of a door being forced open downstairs. Lian moved to the stairwell, pistol ready. She waited until the first shadow appeared in the doorway and fired once. Clean. Quick. The body dropped without sound.
Kai didn’t flinch. He’d seen worse. But he worked faster.
The second operative shouted, and gunfire ripped through the walls. Lian ducked behind cover, returning short bursts. Bullets shattered fluorescent lights, throwing the room into strobing flashes of light and darkness.
“Thirty seconds!” Mei called.
Kai unplugged the drive just as another bullet grazed the server rack, sending sparks across the floor. “Got it!”
“Go!” Lian yelled.
They bolted toward the fire escape, feet slamming against metal steps. The air outside hit cold and sharp. Mei was first to the ground, scanning the alley. A black SUV turned the corner, headlights cutting through the mist.
Kai jumped last, landing hard but steady. “That ours?”
Mei shook her head. “No.”
The SUV accelerated. Lian shoved Kai toward the next alley. “Move!”
Gunfire followed them again, echoing through the narrow streets. The smell of burned metal filled the air. Lian fired back without breaking stride, each shot deliberate. The SUV swerved, hitting a pole, and for a brief second, the world went silent again.
They didn’t stop running until they reached a side street lit only by the glow of a convenience store sign. Lian leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “Everyone intact?”
Kai nodded. “Barely.”
Mei checked the drive in her hand. “Still good.”
“Then we’re done here,” Lian said. “Let’s disappear before backup arrives.”
They slipped through the crowd, blending into the noise and color of the night market. No one noticed them. To everyone else, they were just tired faces among thousands.
Back at the fishing village, the sea had turned calm again. The storm had moved inland. Mei set the drive on the table like a fragile artifact. Kai connected it to the laptop, waiting for the system to boot.
The files loaded slowly this time. When they did, the screen filled with layers of data — logs, shipment reports, network codes. One file stood out: Contact Logs – Medical Division.
Lian’s brow furrowed. “Open it.”
Kai did. A list of names appeared. Dozens of them. Doctors, researchers, administrators. All with LSK-coded identifiers beside their names.
Mei leaned closer. “They’re running it through hospitals.”
Lian scanned the list again. One name froze her hand.
“Dr. Jian.”
Kai looked up. “Your—”
“Don’t,” she said sharply.
He stopped. The air in the room changed. Mei watched the exchange but said nothing. She understood enough to stay silent.
Lian stared at the name again, her voice low. “He’s not supposed to be on this list.”
Kai closed the laptop gently. “Then he’s in deeper than we thought.”
Mei exhaled. “This changes everything.”
“No,” Lian said. “It just makes it clearer.”
