Ryan's Pov II
Ryan eased the car to the curb, headlights dimmed. He slowed the car as he spotted Michael Gray, just leaving through the glass doors, gym bag slung over his shoulder.
"There." Ryan murmured.
Gray didn't linger. He moved fast, head low, slipping straight to a black sedan at the edge of the lot. He unlocked it, slid inside and drove off without a glance behind him.
Maya leaned forward. "He's moving."
The car rolled forward, blending into traffic. They shadowed Gray through the city, weaving past side streets and intersections until the buildings thinned into a quieter stretch of town. Finally, he turned into a parking lot of a grim, run-down hotel. The neon "VACANCY" sign flickered on and off, half the letters burned out.
Maya frowned. "This place screams shady."
"Looks like it got no cameras." Ryan noted, scanning the lot. "The bastard doesn't want to be tracked."
They parked a block away. Maya slipped out, pulling her hood cap. "I'll go in. Just a girl checking in late."
Ryan nodded. "Alright but don't engage."
Maya crossed the street with casual strides, disappearing into the hotel. Ryan stayed low in the car with his eyes on the entrance. Five minutes passed, his phone buzzed.
"He's in Room 214." Maya whispered. "North side, on the second floor."
"Good. Come back, we'll wait for this place to settle down."
Ryan clicked off the line and leaned back in his seat, letting the silence stretch. Patience was survival. Hours ticked past, the sketchy hotel eventually settling into quiet.
Ryan and Maya regrouped in the shadows, both armed and calm. They screwed silencers onto their weapons, the soft clicks loud in the still night.
"Ready?" Ryan asked.
Maya smirked faintly. "Always."
They moved like shadows, slipping up the stairs. Maya knelt at 214, pulling a slim kit from her hoodie. Her fingers danced on the lock, twisting, pressing. Then... a soft click. She pushed the door open an inch, listening.
Silence.
They slid inside, the room smelled of sweat and cheap cologne. On the table near the wall sat a sleek laptop, lid closed but humming faintly. Maya moved to it immediately, and took it. Ryan, meanwhile, picked up a half-drunk glass of water.
In the bedroom, Gray lay sprawled across the sheets, shirtless, fast asleep. A pistol rested on the headboard just above him. Ryan eased forward, taking it silently. He nodded to Maya, who flicked the lights on.
Gray stirred, blinking against the sudden glare just in time for Ryan to pour cold water over his face.
Gray sputtered, coughing as he sat up, then froze. A silenced gun was aimed directly between his eyes.
"What the hell..."
"Shhhh." Ryan said.
Gray's hands trembled. "What do you want? Money? I can get you money."
Maya stepped forward, her expression flat. "No Michael Gray. We want the password to your laptop. And a few answers."
Gray's laugh was nervous, panicked. "Hey, look... I can pay you. Cash, right now."
Ryan's tone sharpened. "We don't want your money, we want everything you know about Operation Sky Sintel."
The color drained from Gray's face. His lips parted but no sound came out.
Ryan lowered the gun just enough to swing it, the butt slamming across Gray's cheek. Once. Twice. Three times. He staggered sideways, groaning. Ryan hit him again... four, five... blood smeared across the sheets.
"Try again." Ryan said.
Gray clutched his face, breath ragged. "I—I don't know much about it."
Ryan's hand twitched toward another strike but Gray's voice cracked in desperation.
"Wait! Wait! I'm telling the truth, I don't know much. Look a man came to me in Toronto, and he knew everything about me. He knew my ideas were rejected, how I got screwed over by everyone. So he said if I delivered this one folder, just one, to General Pierce… then he'll listen to my ideas out."
Ryan's eyes narrowed. "So whose this?"
Gray swallowed hard, blood staining his teeth. "His name was Jack Howard. That's all I know. And after the I did my part, he vanished. Ghosted me."
Ryan cocked his head, silent for a beat. Then he lowered the gun. "Alright, now we need password."
Gray hesitated.
Ryan raised the weapon again. "Now."
Gray blurted it out, hands shaking, the string of characters spilling from his mouth. "PH4NTOM, with capital letters only and four as a replacement for A."
Maya typed them into the laptop on the table, screen flickering alive. "I'm In."
Dozens of emails and encrypted files lit up. She gave a curt nod.
Ryan looked back at Gray. "You've served your purpose."
Gray's eyes widened. "Wait... you don't have to..."
The muffled pop of the silencer cut him short. His head snapped back against the headboard, blood spraying across the wall.
Ryan lowered the weapon, calm and steady. He placed the gun back into Gray's limp hand, pressing a finger against the trigger to smear prints. A suicide, neat.
Maya zipped the laptop into her bag. "Looks clean enough."
They slipped out, locking the door behind them, moving back through the shadows toward the lot. The night was still, only their footsteps echoing faintly.
Outside, Maya turned to Ryan, her face expressionless. "I'm heading to meet an old high school friend. Nothing to do with this. I need a breather, then tomorrow morning I'll start digging into this Jack Howard."
She flagged down a cab, sliding in with a faint wave. And Ryan stood for a second, watching the taxi's taillights vanish down the street.
Then he walked back to his car, and drove off into the night.