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Leo navigated the stolen delivery van through a warren of side streets, tires hissing through puddles that shimmered with oily reflections of the dying afternoon light. He kept it deliberately erratic.

Nothing direct. Nothing trackable.

He turned into a derelict multi-story car park. Concrete pillars loomed, patchy with mildew and graffiti. He spiraled the van downward, headlights carving through the gloom.

When they reached the sub-level, he killed the engine. The sudden absence of noise pressed against his eardrums.

He released a ragged breath and sagged against the seat.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, dragging both hands down his face. His heart finally slowed.

Beside him, Kat stared straight ahead. “This isn’t just about me, is it?” She turned to him. “I mean, I fit in somewhere, but this…” Her hand made a vague arc. “It’s bigger than I thought. Worse than I imagined.”

Leo nodded once. The puzzle pieces were sliding into place—and what they formed was horrifying. “Raptor’s tech.”

“Leveled up.” She rubbed her eyes with trembling fingertips.

“What we saw in there…”

Her hands dropped to her lap. “There was a file name on one slide. NX 7782. I’ve seen it before.”

“When?”

“That night at my flat, before Eldridge came.”

“What?”

“It appeared in my database the night Eldridge showed up. An anomaly flagged for review—NX 7782. Meant nothing at the time. I thought it was a misfiled document.”

“You were getting too close?”

The line of her neck went taut. “I wasn’t supposed to see those files. Just accessing them must have triggered an alert?—”

“So they decided to burn you.” Leo’s voice was ice. “Frame you for treason rather than risk exposure.”

“They have to be stopped, Leonid.”

“I know.” What they’d seen—Nightshade—was no longer a theory. It was real. Operational. If they didn’t stop it, covert warfare would change forever.

Twin beams pierced the semi-darkness. Headlights approaching.

Leo’s hand went to his weapon.

An ancient red Ford Transit van rumbled into the next bay, suspension grumbling.

Brock.

Leo sighed and rolled his shoulders. Brock always had perfect timing.

The lights extinguished and the driver’s door creaked open.

Brock exited from the cab with the grace of a man used to tight spaces. A tactical vest partially hid his Johnny Cash tour tee.

Leo opened his own door and jumped out. His boots squelched as he landed. He did not want to know what with. Water dripped nearby, and the air reeked of mildew and piss.

Brock’s eyes widened. “What the bloody hell happened to you two?”

“You don’t want the details.” Leo’s voice was flat.

“Jesus. Is that... formaldehyde?” Brock recoiled, sniffing. “You smell like the bin behind a mortuary.

“It was worse inside the bin.” Kat joined them.

Brock blinked. “You were in it?”

Leo nodded grimly.

“Well. That’s a new one.” Brock’s face twisted into something like respect.

Leo scanned the shadows. A rat skittered along the far wall. His hand hovered near his weapon. “We can’t talk here.”

“Back of the van.” Brock jerked his thumb. “It’s clean.”

He swung open the rear doors. The van’s exterior was misdirection—rust and dents hiding cutting-edge tech on the inside. The cargo hold had been converted into a mobile command center—wall-mounted monitors, stacked comms gear, and two benches facing each other across a narrow aisle.

“Ladies first.” Brock gave a theatrical bow.

Kat climbed in, wincing as she settled onto a bench. Leo followed, ducking his head under the low ceiling. The space smelled of mint and gun oil.

Brock slammed the doors shut and dropped onto the opposite bench. It protested as he reached into a mini-fridge and passed out two water bottles without a word.

Leo cracked his open and drank deeply. When he lowered the bottle, Brock was staring at him. Expecting.

“So?” Brock leaned forward, gripping his knees. “Spill it. And I don’t mean the water.”

Leo exchanged a glance with Kat.

Kat wiped water from her mouth and looked up.

“Project Nightshade isn’t just a weapons program.

It’s a neural manipulation system. They’ve upgraded Raptor’s original tech— the kind that needed brain implants to control soldiers.

This?” She tapped the side of her head. “This uses the airwaves. It’s control without contact using radio frequencies. ”

“Radio frequencies?” Brock frowned.

“They can target neural pathways through common broadcast channels. No physical implants needed.” She rested her elbows on her knees.

“No scars. No surgeries. Just tuned frequencies. You wouldn’t even know it was happening, that it was nudging you in just the right direction.

You’d think every decision was still yours. ”

“Anyone who controlled it could manipulate elections. Start wars. End them. All without lifting a gun,” Leo added.

“And no one would ever know.” Kat scrubbed a hand over her face. “They’ve built a weapon no one can see coming.”

“Mind control?” Brock’s expression darkened.

“And not just for adults.” Leo hesitated. “Children.”

“Bloody hell.” Brock’s mouth fell open. “How far along are they?”

“Final testing stage,” Kat answered. “Phase two is scheduled to run in forty-eight hours. During the NATO convention in London this week.”

Brock’s fingers drummed against his knee. “Korolov?”

She shook her head. “Probably financing it. But I don’t think he’s the end user. That’s not his style. More like a broker—matching the tech to global buyers.”

“Anything linking Korolov and Eldridge directly?”

Leo screwed the cap back on his water. “Not yet.”

Brock grinned. “Positive attitude. I like that.”

“We have to stop them.” Kat pinned Leo with her gaze. “We need to go to the police.”

Brock gave her a flat look. “And tell them what? They think you’re a traitor. Eldridge made damn sure of that.”

Kat bit her lip. “I know.”

“Eldridge just flipped after all these years?” Brock’s brows shot up.

Kat exhaled hard. “Yes. No. I don’t know. Fuck.” She leaned back, thudding her head against the wall. “We’re missing something. I just can’t see what.”

A phone buzzed.

Kat pulled her burner from her hip pocket and stared at it.

“You going to answer that, lassie?” Brock asked.

“It’s my brother.” She swiped it open and hit speaker. “Gage?”

“Kit Kat. I’ve got maybe thirty seconds.”

She straightened on the bench. “Where are you?”

A faint clanging sound in the background—like a metal door slamming shut.

“I’m in custody. Eldridge’s people.”

Leo stared at her phone. “What the hell happened?”

“They pulled me in an hour ago. Something about Transport for London. Bullshit. They’re looking for you?—”

“Gage. Are you safe?” She tugged a hand through her shorn hair.

“They’ve got me stashed away, thinking I’m contained. Kinda cute, really.” His voice cooled. “But that won’t last. They want leverage. I’m it.”

“Jesus Christ, Gage?—”

“Kat.” His tone sharpened a notch. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Her voice dropped. “I’m coming for you.”

“No.” His tone hardened. “You go for Eldridge. You take her down. This entire operation is dirty. But Eldridge? She’s the root?—”

Click.

“They have my brother.” Kat stared at the dead screen and then looked up. “No one fucks with my family.”

She pocketed the phone. “I have an idea.”