Ethan Wilder stood on the edge of the skyscraper, looking out over the neon-lit streets below. The night air was crisp, a slight breeze carrying the scent of exhaust and rain. He'd been in this city too long, and tonight felt different—he could sense it in the air. There was something coming. Something big.
A black motorcycle roared past him, its rider hidden a beneath a helmet. Ethan barely glanced at it—he had more pressing matters. His phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts.
"Mission details: 22:00, South End. Shadow Protocol active. No backup. Trust no one."
The text was brief. Too brief. He'd known the mission was going to be dangerous, but this... this was different. No backup? Shadow Protocol? It was a whisper in the dark—a job that no one else could touch, a job for someone with his skills.
He'd been a government operative for years, but those days were long gone. His new life as a mercenary was a shadow of his past. The governments, the agencies, they didn't exist for him anymore. There was only the job . And this one was his last.
Chapter 2: The Encounter
The clock struck 22:00 as Ethan pulled into the shadowed alley on his motorcycle, the roar of the engine fading into the silence of the night. The South End was a place of broken dreams and abandoned projects—perfect for a deal that needed to stay out of sight.
He parked his bike, hidden it behind a dumpster, and slipped into the alley. His boots clicked on the wet pavement, each step echoing into the dark. A man in a trench coat stood beneath a flickering streetlight, his hands in his pockets, watching Ethan approach.
“Wilder,” the man said, his voice gruff. “You're late.”
Ethan didn't respond. His eyes were already scanning the alley, checking every corner, every shadow. The man wasn't important—what mattered was the package.
"Where is it?" Ethan asked, his hand brushing the grip of the gun at his side.
The man hesitated, then reached into his coat and pulled out a small, nondescript black briefcase. He handed it over with one slow movement, eyes locked on Ethan's.
“This is it. The buyer's details are inside,” the man said. His voice had a nervous edge to it, but his eyes told a different story. This wasn't his first deal, and he didn't intend for it to be his last.
Ethan took the briefcase, feeling the weight of it in his hands. The instructions were clear—hand it over, collect his payment, and disappear. But something felt off.
The sound of footsteps came from behind him, too heavy to be a passerby.
https://mapman.gabipd.org/web/anastassia/home/-/message_boards/message/710081
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"Who else?" Ethan muttered under his breath. He turned just as three figures emerged from the darkness.
“Thought you could make the deal without us, Wilder?” one of them said, stepping into the dim light. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a face carved out of stone. A man who could kill with a smile.
Ethan's mind raced. These men weren't part of the deal. They weren't here for the money. They were here for something else—something far more dangerous.
“Get the briefcase,” the man said.
Ethan's hand moved faster than the eye could follow. A single shot rang out, the bullet hitting the lead man in the shoulder. He dropped to the ground with a howl, but the other two rushed forward, drawing their weapons.
Ethan dove into a roll, using the momentum to spring to his feet and slam his shoulder into the nearest assailant. The man went down hard, his weapon skittering across the alley. The second one hesitated, just long enough for Ethan to reach for his own gun, pulling the trigger in a fluid motion.
The bullet hit its mark, and the man crumpled to the ground, his eyes wide with surprise.
Panting, Ethan checked the briefcase one last time, confirming it was still in his possession. The alley was silent once more. But the night wasn't over yet.
Chapter 3: The Betrayal
Ethan wiped the blood from his hands, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins. But as he turned to leave, the last person he expected to see stepped out of the shadows: Mara, his former partner.
“Mara,” Ethan said, his voice a mix of surprise and anger. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Mara's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a smirk. She was beautiful, dangerous, and had once been the only person he trusted in this treacherous world. But trust was a luxury that got people killed.
“Did you really think I'd let you walk away?” she asked, her voice low. She was holding a gun, the barrel aimed straight at his chest.
“You're not here for the money,” Ethan said, taking a step back. His mind raced. Mara was too good to make this kind of mistake. This was a setup.
“Not anymore,” Mara replied, her eyes cold. “I'm here to make sure you don't make it out alive, Ethan.”
Ethan's heart skipped a beat. He should've seen it coming. The job, the text, the warning—it had all been a trap. And Mara had led him right into it.
“Mara, don't do this,” he said, his voice steady despite the weight of the situation. “You don't have to be part of this.”
She laughed, a bitter, harsh sound. “You think I have a choice? The deal's already done. You're just the last loose end.”
Without warning, Mara lunged forward, her gun aimed at his head. Ethan's instincts kicked in—he grabbed her wrist, twisting it until she dropped the weapon. But Mara was faster than he remembered, and she used her body weight to slam him against the wall.
They grappled, their movements a blur of violence and desperation. Ethan finally pinned her down, his breath heavy in his chest.
“This doesn't have to end like this,” he said, his voice low, as he pressed the barrel of his gun to her forehead.
Mara stared back at him, her eyes filled with conflict. For a moment, it seemed like she might break, but then she pulled away, her gaze hardening once again.
“It's too late for that,” she whispered.
With a swift motion, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving Ethan standing alone in the dark alley.