Page 154 of Fractured Loyalties
I’m here to see who makes it out alive.
The tunnel behind me breathes smoke, a slow exhale from the trap I left behind. One meant to collapse if someone followed me down the wrong axis. Directional charge, localized debris field. Surgical. No casualties unless someone’s foolish enough to stand still.
I wait. Count. Three seconds. Five. Ten.
Then footsteps. Steady, no stagger.
Mara.
She’s running a few seconds behind a man I don't recognize. His face is set, eyes calculating, that kind of dead calm I’ve seen before. The kind of calm that only belongs to men with nothing left to gamble.
He sees me, but he doesn’t flinch.
Mara rounds the curve behind him. She doesn’t hesitate either. She sees me and doesn’t break stride. Her face isn’t calm. It’s something worse—determined. Raw. Like she’s carrying fire under her skin, and she doesn’t care who it scalds.
“Who is this?” I ask sharply.
Mara slows only when she’s within arm’s reach. "He called himself Kinley, back in the hallway. Showed me some things and gave me some information too."
Kinley doesn't deny it. Just holds my stare like he's been waiting years for this introduction.
That’s probably not the only alias he’s used. I file it away.
“I didn’t authorize this detour,” I say, facing Mara now. My voice doesn’t rise, but the air around us shifts.
“We didn’t ask for permission.”
My jaw locks.
Kinley watches us like he’s taking notes for a post-mortem that neither of us will survive.
“You’re risking a lot for someone whose name I don’t recognize,” I tell him.
Kinley tilts his head slightly, measuring me in return. “I’m not here for you. Not directly. I’m here for Volker.”
The name slides through me like ice. I don’t move, but something in me knots so tightly I hear it.
Aras Volker. The name used to surface in whispers—classified trails, disavowed ops, rumors from programs that were never supposed to exist. He was the architect behind Eidolon’s darkest layers, the kind of man who didn’t operate from shadows but built them. I've carried out some operations for and with him in the past. He's the kind of ghost that didn’t need to hide because everyone who knew how to look had already vanished.
“That doesn’t tell me enough,” I snap. "Why help her, then? If you're really just here for Volker."
“Because she’s the fuse. And you’re the trigger,” Kinley says calmly. “Volker’s been pulling strings too long. And when he pulls them, people like me end up as collateral. And who is the better option for me to operate with, other than you?”
Mara cuts in before I respond. “He showed me files, surveillance.”
My jaw locks tight. Something in me knots so tightly I hear it.
She keeps going. “And names, a face everyone thought was buried.”
My silence gives me away. Mara sees it. She doesn’t push. But she doesn’t stop, either.
“He says Jori’s alive.”
The knot in my chest snaps.
“That’s not possible.”
Kinley steps forward cautiously. “You never verified it. Volker hides bodies—and truths—he does it in ways that defy logic. Trust me, I know.”
