Chapter 12: The Contact

The tunnels stretched ahead like a maze of shadows and damp concrete, the air thick with the scent of rust and decay. The city above was a war zone, police combing the streets while their enemies lurked in the dark, waiting for them to make a mistake. Down here, though, it was silent—too silent.

Alex led the way, his gun drawn, his footsteps careful as they navigated the abandoned subway line. Maya followed a few steps behind, her knife gripped tightly, ready for anything. Ellie, still bruised and exhausted from her capture, moved slower, but her eyes remained sharp. She wasn't about to be caught off guard again.

"Your contact," Maya whispered. "Who is he?"

Alex kept his gaze forward. "Goes by Bishop. Ex-intelligence, disappeared off the grid a few years ago. If anyone can help us vanish, it's him."

Ellie exhaled sharply. "And he won't sell us out like the last guy?"

"He doesn't work for anyone but himself. That's why I trust him."

Maya scoffed. "That's a dangerous kind of trust."

Alex didn't argue. He knew better than to trust anyone fully—not in this world. But Bishop had saved his life once, and that counted for something.

The tunnel sloped downward, leading them to an old maintenance access door. Alex tested the handle. Locked. Good. That meant no one else had been through here.

He knocked twice, paused, then knocked three more times in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Silence.

Ellie shifted uneasily. "If this guy screws us over—"

The door clicked, then swung open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the doorway, his face partially obscured by a thick beard and a hood pulled low over his head. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked between the three of them before he stepped aside.

"Inside. Now."

They didn't hesitate.

Bishop's hideout was small and cluttered, a mix of old tech, stolen weapons, and maps of the city pinned to the walls. A single desk lamp cast a dull glow over the space, illuminating stacks of cash and fake IDs scattered across a workbench.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," Bishop said, locking the door behind them. His voice was low, gravelly, like he hadn't spoken in days.

"Didn't think I'd need you again," Alex replied.

Bishop smirked. "And yet, here you are. Running. Bleeding. Always in the middle of some mess." His gaze landed on Maya and Ellie. "And you brought friends."

"They're part of this," Alex said firmly.

Bishop studied them, then nodded. "Alright. Talk."

Alex kept it short—how they were set up, how the motel turned into a kill zone, and how Ellie was taken before they fought their way out. He left out the personal details. Bishop didn't need those.

When Alex finished, Bishop leaned back against the desk, arms crossed.

"You're in deep," he said.

"No shit," Maya muttered.

Bishop ignored her. "Whoever wants you dead has resources. People in the right places. If they found you that fast, they'll find you again." He gestured to the maps on the wall. "Staying in this city isn't an option."

Ellie frowned. "So, what do you suggest? We disappear?"

Bishop nodded. "I can set you up with new identities, new lives. Get you out of the country if needed. But it won't be cheap."

Alex met his gaze. "How much?"

"Half a million. Cash."

Maya laughed dryly. "Yeah, sure. Let me just check my wallet."

Bishop shrugged. "That's the price for disappearing. Otherwise, you can keep running until they put you in the ground."

Alex clenched his jaw. Half a million was impossible. They had nowhere near that kind of money.

But then, Bishop spoke again.

"Or…" He pushed off the desk, grabbing a file from a nearby shelf. He tossed it onto the table. "You could do a job for me."

Alex stared at the file. "What kind of job?"

Bishop smirked. "The kind that pays half a million."

Maya crossed her arms. "And let me guess. It's dangerous as hell?"

Bishop chuckled. "Wouldn't be worth that much if it wasn't."

Ellie stepped forward, flipping open the file. Inside were surveillance photos, blueprints, and a detailed list of names. Her eyes scanned the pages, her expression darkening.

"This is a hit," she muttered.

Bishop didn't deny it. "Target's a high-value asset. Dangerous. Corrupt. Plenty of people want him gone. You do this, and you're free. No more running."

Alex glanced at Maya. She was watching him carefully, waiting for his call.

Ellie exhaled sharply. "If we do this, we're stepping into something worse than what we're already in."

Bishop shrugged. "That's the trade-off. A shot at freedom, or a slow death waiting for them to catch up to you."

Silence filled the room.

Then Alex spoke.

"We'll do it."

Maya and Ellie said nothing, but they didn't argue.

Bishop grinned. "Good. Then let's get started."