Chapter 18: Leaks Exposed
The ARGUS surveillance van was a claustrophobic cage, its air thick with the buzz of electronics and the stale, metallic tang of old coffee, the monitors' harsh glow casting jagged shadows across the cramped space. Luke sat beside Felicity, his sneakers tapping the floor, their soles gritty with city dust, his jacket slung over a chair, a candy wrapper crinkling as he fidgeted, the sugar's faint sweetness lingering on his tongue. His cracked phone lay on the console, its screen flickering, a small anchor against the suspicion gnawing at his gut, his reflection in the monitor pale, eyes shadowed, jaw tight. The last mole was a feint. Slade's still got eyes inside ARGUS, and they're bleeding us dry. The city's pulse—distant sirens, the low rumble of traffic—seeped through the van's walls, a restless reminder of the chaos waiting beyond, the air heavy with the threat of betrayal.
The System flared, its interface a sharp pulse, steadying his focus like a blade cutting through fog.
[SYSTEM: DAILY ROLL ACTIVATED: HAWKEYE ARCHERY (FACE 3)]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: UNERRING AIM. STAMINA DRAIN: MODERATE]
Luke leaned over Felicity's laptop, his eyes locked on the scrolling code, his Hawkeye precision filtering encrypted ARGUS traffic for anomalies—a subtle handshake, a repeated packet disguised as routine, a ghost in the system. His gum snapped loudly, a nervous tic, his fingers twitching as he traced the screen's edge, its plastic warm under his touch, the air thick with the hum of servers and Felicity's rapid typing.
"Oliver, the last mole was a distraction," Luke said, his voice low, the comms crackling faintly like a distant storm. "This one's deep, with access to our tactical plans."
Oliver's voice was tense, his green leather creaking through the comms, his words clipped. "Felicity's cross-referencing unscheduled access since the last hit. Anything yet?"
Felicity's fingers flew, her ponytail bouncing, her glasses glinting under the van's harsh lights, her voice sharp with focus. "Got a hit, Luke. Repeated data transfers from a secure terminal—small, sneaky, disguised as system updates."
Luke's eyes narrowed, catching a pattern—a faint, recurring packet, a shadow in the code. Got you. The ID pointed to Dana, a mid-level analyst, her file marked as loyal, her access tied to anti-Mirakuru deployments, her betrayal a knife in the team's back. Mole whack-a-mole, round two. Let's dance.
[SYSTEM: HAWKEYE TRACK DETECTS ANOMALY.]
[SYSTEM: MASTERY UPDATE: HAWKEYE TRACKING +12%]
Luke slipped out of the van, the night air sharp with the scent of rain and rust, his sneakers silent on the pavement, his heart racing as he approached a secure ARGUS satellite facility, its industrial lights casting long, isolating shadows. Dana emerged, her short brown hair tucked under a cap, her movements tense, her eyes darting like a cornered animal, her hands clutching a tablet, its screen glowing faintly. "Dana," Luke said, stepping from the shadows, his voice a low command, his gum snapping sharply, a defiant tic. "Care to explain your late-night data transfers?"
Her face contorted, fear and defiance flashing as she drew a stun gun, its voltage humming like a wasp. "You don't get it, Luke! I'm protecting the city!" she shouted, her voice cracking, her cap slipping slightly as she lunged.
Luke dodged, his reflexes sharp, but the stun gun grazed his arm, electricity seizing his muscles, pain flaring like wildfire, his breath hitching as he staggered. "You're Slade's eyes, selling us out," he shot back, his voice hard, his body trembling as regeneration kicked in, the green glow burning through the shock, the coppery taste of blood sharp on his tongue.
[SYSTEM: REGENERATION ENDURES.]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: RAPID HEALING. STAMINA DRAIN: SEVERE]
Luke summoned Mystic Arts, orange energy chains looping around Dana's arms and torso, pinning her to a concrete wall, the air crackling with heat, the effort draining him, his vision blurring as he fought to stay upright, his sneakers scuffing the pavement.
[SYSTEM: MAGIC RESTRAIN.]
[SYSTEM: POWER ACTIVATED: MYSTIC ARTS. STAMINA DRAIN: HIGH.]
[SYSTEM: DOUBLE-AGENT CLASH RESOLVED. +25 EP.]
Back in the Foundry, the air was thick with betrayal, the monitors' hum a low growl, Dana secured in a holding cell, her tablet confiscated, its data a map of their compromised plans. Oliver paced, his green leather creaking, his voice heavy with anger, his bow slung across his back, its string taut. "She leaked our vulnerability reports. Every move we made, Slade knew."
Luke slumped into a chair, its metal cold, his sneakers scuffing the floor, his candy wrapper crinkling as he pocketed it, his arm still tingling from the stun. "She was a conduit, not the source," he said, his voice firm despite the ache in his bones. "Oliver, get Lyla to purge every ID with access to those files. This goes deeper."
Felicity's typing was a furious rhythm, her glasses glinting, her voice sharp. "Lyla's on it. Full lockdown."
Luke's empathy pulsed, projecting clarity and honesty through Lyla's network, the air heavy with the team's resolve, Diggle's fists clenched, his eyes dark with betrayal, Sara's baton twirling slowly, her gaze steady but concerned.
[SYSTEM: EMPATHY VERIFY TEAM LOYALTY (HIGH-LEVEL ASSISTANCE).]
[SYSTEM: FALCON FLIGHT SECURES EXTERNAL ACCESS (PASSIVE, CITY-WIDE SCAN).]
Lyla's voice crackled through the comms, sharp and focused, her words cutting through the tension. "Purge is underway. We're sealing the leaks."
[SYSTEM: STAT UPDATE: WILLPOWER +1 (INTERNAL SECURITY).]
Luke leaned back, the chair creaking, his gum snapping faintly, his mind racing. House is clean, but Slade's got a third wave of bombs ready to rip Starling apart. He popped another candy, the sugar sharp but fleeting, the city's pulse—sirens, the distant clatter of a train—thrummed through the walls, pulling him toward the next fight, the seismic threat a shadow looming over their fragile victory.
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