The Hunt Begins

Mia ran. Her legs burned, her breath came in sharp gasps, and the city lights blurred in her vision. Every shadow seemed to move, every echo of footsteps felt like a phantom pursuing her. The weight of the briefcase in her hands was a constant reminder this wasn't just about her survival. It was about the truth.

She reached the end of a dimly lit alley and pressed herself against the wall, forcing herself to breathe slower. The street ahead was mostly empty, save for a few parked cars and a flickering neon sign advertising an all-night diner. It was a risk, but she needed to get off the streets.

She tugged the hood of her sweatshirt up and made her way inside. The diner smelled like coffee and stale grease. A lone waitress, tired and disinterested, barely glanced at her as she slid into a booth at the back.

Mia's fingers tightened around the briefcase. Her heart was still pounding from the chase, but she knew she had only a few minutes before Pierce's men scoured this part of the city. She needed a plan.

She unfolded the slip of paper Cross had given her. An address. No name. Just numbers and a street name she didn't recognize. The only way to find out was to move.

But first, she needed a way to get there without being followed.

The bell above the diner door jingled. Mia's breath hitched as she instinctively lowered her head, peeking through the strands of her hair. Two men entered, their eyes scanning the diner. She recognized Pierce's men. Her pulse spiked.

She reached for the briefcase and slid out of the booth. Too late.

One of the men spotted her. Their eyes locked.

Mia bolted.

She shoved through the back entrance, knocking over a chair in her hurry. The alley was narrow, leading to a main street, but her exit was cut off when she heard the men coming after her.

"Stop!" one of them shouted.

She ignored him, sprinting toward the nearest fire escape. With a grunt, she launched herself onto the metal ladder and climbed, the rusted steps groaning under her weight. She reached the rooftop just as gunfire erupted below.

A bullet ricocheted off the railing inches from her hand. She yelped, throwing herself forward, rolling onto the rooftop. The city stretched out before her in a maze of lights and towering structures. If she could just keep moving, a heavy hand grabbed her wrist.

She twisted, trying to yank free, but the grip was like iron. A tall, broad-shouldered man loomed over her, his face partially hidden by the dark. He wasn't one of Pierce's men.

"Let me go!" she hissed, struggling against him.

"Shut up," he growled, yanking her to her feet. "You're going to get yourself killed."

Mia's mind raced. Was he another enemy? Another hunter after the briefcase? She clenched her jaw and drove her elbow into his ribs. He grunted, but his grip didn't loosen. Instead, he shoved her behind a rooftop vent just as more bullets tore through the night air.

"I just saved your life," he muttered. "Now stop fighting."

She finally got a good look at him. Sharp features, dark eyes that flickered with calculation. He was dressed like someone who knew the streets and wore a leather jacket, jeans, combat boots. He didn't look like one of Pierce's men.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The man exhaled, watching the men below retreat into the streets. Then he turned to her.

"Someone who doesn't want Pierce to win."

Mia's fingers clenched around the handle of the briefcase.

"You knew my father," she whispered.

The man's jaw tightened. "I knew of him." He eyed the briefcase. "And I know that if you keep running blind, you won't make it to sunrise."

Mia swallowed hard. Every instinct told her not to trust him. But what choice did she have?

He extended a hand. "Come with me if you want answers."

Mia hesitated only for a second before placing her hand in his.

The hunt had begun.