Chapter Six

Lydia sat motionless at her desk, her mind still reeling from the ambush.

Ring! Ring!

Her phone vibrated against the wooden surface. Cassie.

"Lydia, where are you?" Cassie's voice came through the speaker, laced with urgency.

"The safe house," Lydia replied, though the words felt hollow. Safe? Not anymore.

Cassie picked up on the tension instantly. Not because she was psychic—just years of friendship. "What happened?"

Lydia hesitated, then exhaled. "Turns out this place isn't so 'safe' after all." She didn't want to talk about it. But if anyone deserved the truth, it was Cassie.

"Were there casualties?"

"Not exactly. They used an EMP jammer to knock out my sensors… and extracted a blood sample."

Silence. Then Cassie's voice, now sharp with anger. "We have to tell Reynolds."

"Reynolds! How quaint of you," Catherine muttered from the background, her tone dripping with disdain. "Lydia, the best course of action is simple—we hunt them down. I'll come over, pick up their scent, and then we begin." Her claws twitched with excitement.

"No," Lydia cut in sharply. "We don't even know who they are yet. We need more information before charging in."

Catherine huffed. "Information won't change the fact that they got to you. If we wait, they'll use whatever they took against us."

Cassie sighed. "Lydia, you sure you're okay? You sound… different."

"I'm fine," Lydia said, but the words felt hollow. The truth was, she felt exposed. Violated. Someone had planned this out, executed it perfectly, and left her with more questions than answers.

Catherine's voice softened just a fraction. "Let me come over anyway. Just to make sure you weren't tagged or anything."

Lydia hesitated, then nodded to herself. "Fine. But we do this smartly. No reckless hunts."

Catherine chuckled darkly. "No promises."

Whilst the girls were scheming their next hunt, Reynolds was awakening his next hunter. Deep inside Murfield labs, Reynolds positioned himself on elevated ground. His mood was slightly readable — anticipation was worn by his eyes. Rachez stood behind his right hand side. Her eyes flickered as she scanned through the lab, processing and intercepting every information.

From his elevated point, Reynolds could see all of the lab's operations. But he wasn't here for routine inventory; he was here to witness his latest creations—new members of his 'family,' as he called them. His gaze was fixed on Mr. Reed, the lead scientist. At his side was an open ground with two pods hanging from two side by side poles.

Mr. Reed went on with absolute diligence, failure wasn't an option —not for Reynolds. He adjusted the setting on the control panel a few meters away from the pods. He was defrosting the pods. A low hum vibrated through the air as the machinery whirred to life, neon lines flickering across the reinforced glass casings. Inside, shadows twitched—bodies stirring from the depths of artificial slumber.

Reynolds, though excited,remained calm. He leaned forward a bit, his fingers steepled below his abdomen. His anticipation was ____. These weren't just test subjects; they were another step to his vision. He wasn't just creating soldiers. He was sculpting the future.

"Vitals are stable," Mr. Reed announced, his voice clinical yet laced with an edge of pride. "We can proceed with phase two."

Reynolds nodded, his eyes never leaving the pods. "Go on."

With the press of a button, the locks hissed, and the pods slowly opened. Cold vapor spilled onto the open floor as two figures were displayed.

Disengaging the locks," Mr. Reed said as he scrolled down on the panel" One by one, the locks securing the mutants to the pods released with a sharp hiss. "Locks are down, commencing awakening," Mr. Reeds put on a pair of ear plugs before the pods' final phase.

A steady hum filled the air as the pods hissed, their internal systems flushing out the preservation fluids. Vapor spilled onto the cold lab floor, curling like mist around Mr. Reed's boots. The figures inside twitched, muscles reactivating from forced slumber.

Suddenly, a sharp, high-pitched frequency pulsed through the lab—an ultrasonic activation signal designed to stimulate neural responses. The sound was nearly imperceptible to human ears but powerful enough to jolt the mutants awake. Mr. Reed flinched despite his earplugs, watching as the pods vibrated under the intensity of the sound waves.

Reynolds remained still, eyes locked on the pods. He had no fear—only expectation. These weren't just weapons; they were masterpieces.

Then, a sharp gasp echoed through the room as one of the mutants lurched forward, their restraints now useless. The other, a female, followed, fingers twitching before curling into a tight fist. Their bodies trembled from the lingering sonic waves, their senses overwhelmed before rapidly adjusting.

Reynolds smiled. "Welcome to the new world."

"Project __ and __ are live," Rachez muttered, her fingers hovering over the console. "What nominal designations shall they be given?" Her gaze shifted toward Reynolds.

"It's 'names,' Rachez. We ain't in the '90s," Reynolds replied with a smirk, his eyes meeting hers. "Call them whatever you want. I don't care about their names—only their potential." He turned his attention back to his creations.

"Yes, sir! Assigning casual identifiers."

***.....***

"Well, for all I can say, these guys were professionals," Catherine said as she squatted down, her nose twitching as she tried to catch a scent.

Pause.

"No blood. No prints. No hair. No nothing." She spat the words with slight rage as she stood back up, turning to face Cassie and Lydia.

"They must have gotten intels on the house before attacking. Maybe hacked in somehow." Cassie added, gritting her teeth with crossed arms.

"Maybe," Lydia muttered. " Or someone from inside must have ratted us out. Murfield corps is unhackable. Reynolds made sure of that."

"I'll make a quick check. Sweep the whole perimeter even if I have to but I must find them," Catherine snarled with death in her eyes. Not a quick one, rather a slow and painful one. One that would make someone yearn for death but even that would be out of reach.

Beep! Beep!!

The watches on their hands beeped in unison. A synchronized notification. That could only mean one thing — a new mission, a high-stake mission.

"About time." Cassie muttered.

Cassie walked towards the end of the room, where a tall polished cupboard stood. She opened it, pushed the clothes aside –Catherine's clothes, exposing an elevator door with a panel at the side.

"Come on, aren't you curious?" Cassie smirked, tapping the panel as the doors slid open.

Lydia exchanged a glance with Catherine before exhaling. They had no choice but to follow.

Cassie stepped inside first. "Reynolds wouldn't send this unless it was urgent. Let's move."

Catherine flexed her claws but followed. "Fine. But once this is over, I'm hunting those bastards down. And next time," her green eyes pierced Cassie's. "Mind the dresses."

Lydia hesitated for just a second before stepping in. The doors shut behind them with a quiet hiss.

After a few seconds the door opens without making a sound. The door shut behind them as they walked out into the thin darkness.

Click!

The lights turned on as Cassie tapped the panel behind them. The illumination exposed the darkness for what it truly was a high-tech underground command center.

The room stretched wide, its sleek metallic walls lined with illuminated monitors displaying mission data, city surveillance, and encrypted communications. A long glass table sat at the center, its surface embedded with holographic projections shifting between maps, blueprints, and Reynolds' latest directives.

On one side, a weapons rack gleamed under the cold white lights—firearms, blades, and customized gear tailored for each of them. Opposite that, a workstation flickered with lines of green code scrolling endlessly, undoubtedly linked to Murfield's most secure systems.

The air was cool, humming with the faint sound of hidden machinery working behind the walls. It smelled of metal and electricity, a constant reminder that this was not just a hideout—it was a war room.

Cassie strode toward the console, already pulling up their mission briefing. "Let's see what Reynolds has for us."

Lydia glanced around, her unease lingering. "Every time we come down here, it feels like we're about to change the course of something."

Catherine cracked her knuckles, smirking. "Good. That means we're doing something right."

"What do we have here?" Cassie muttered as her eyes fixed on the hologram. "An extraction in Kessel."

"Kessel!" Catherine spouted in surprise. "Never thought I'd return to that quarter."

"What is it?" Cassie said to Catherine with a smirk. "Still afraid of the Monsoons are ya?"

"Me! Afraid! Have you seen these cl…"

"Can we just cut to the chase!" Lydia interrupted with a daunting look on her face —Serious. Well that was how she took any tasks from Reynolds.

"Whatever!" Catherine said, rolling her eyes away.

Cassie tapped an icon on the glass table, pulling up a file.

"Our mission is to infiltrate a high-security facility and extract a valuable piece of tech. Intel suggests it's being stored in the central lab—hidden beneath an upscale winery."

Her last words struck Catherine like an arrow—swift, precise, and impossible to ignore. But arrows were never fast enough for her.

A winery in Kessel. Flaxx wineries.

Recognition flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by a sharp, predatory grin. "Well, well… looks like this mission just got a lot more fun."

She flexed her claws, the anticipation thrumming through her veins. Catherine nodded, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I'll take care of any hostiles. My claws are itching for action."

Cassie rolled her eyes but smirked. "Figures. I'll take out the cams and disable the alarms before we even step inside. No sense making it easy for them to track us."

"And be our watch bird!" Catherines gaze fell on Cassie. Her green eyes, glinting mockery. Her cheeks smirk.

Lydia exhaled, already piecing together the route in her head. "That leaves infiltration to me. I'll get inside, secure the tech, and signal extraction."

Cassie tapped a few more commands on the table, pulling up the winery's schematics, trying to cool off Catherine's inciting mockery. "Then it's settled. We go in quietly—at least some of us." She shot a glance at Catherine.

Catherine grinned wider, baring her teeth. "I can be quiet. But where's the fun in that?"

Lydia shook her head. "Let's just get this done."

Cassie smirked. "Then suit up, ladies. We move in at thirty."

Few minutes later, the girls were all suited up, dressed in sleek black jumpsuits.Lydia had her gear, a custom-made katana sword strapped to her back, mini bombs secured to her belt, and guns holstered at her hips.

Cassie didn't need much weaponry, her fists were enough. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail. She flexed her palms ready to take on the task at hand.

Catherine, chivalrous as ever, had an arsenal of daggers slotted neatly across her suit. Each one balanced, sharpened, and ready for the hunt. She twirled a blade between her fingers, grinning as the steel caught the dim light.

Cassie smirked as she checked her watch. "Time's up. Let's move."

Without another word, the girls strode toward the exit, their boots barely making a sound against the sleek metallic floor. As the hidden doors slid open, a row of high-tech motorcycles awaited them, lined up in the dim underground garage –Cassie's favourite place.

Each bike was a masterpiece—silent engines, reinforced armor, and built-in cloaking tech to blend into the night.

Lydia ran a hand over her sleek matte-black ride, its design both elegant and deadly. She swung a leg over, her katana settling perfectly against the frame.

Cassie's bike was the fastest, built for sharp maneuvers and speed. She tapped a button on the console, and the engine purred to life, barely making a sound. "Now this is my kind of ride," she muttered, a smirk playing on her lips.

Catherine's was the heaviest, modified for durability and, most importantly, brute force. She revved the engine, the growl of power vibrating beneath her fingers. "Hope Vandrell reinforced the walls of his winery," she mused, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Cassie flicked on her visor, scanning the mission parameters on her HUD. "Coordinates locked. Let's move."

With a synchronized roar—just loud enough to send a thrill through them but quiet enough to remain undetected—their bikes shot forward, disappearing into the night.