I rush over to Clancy's office and knock on the door before bursting in. He glances from his computer with his signature grumpy face.

"I cracked Dr. Nakamoto's passcodes."

"And? What did you find?" He looks at me expectantly.

"I got up and told you immediately when the code was successful," I explain.

"Damn it, Lambert. Come to my office when you have actual analysis to report back to me." He seems like he wants to throw his stapler at me.

"Yessir. Sorry for disturbing you, sir." I realize how dumb I was for rushing over here.

I scurry back to my desk and see Luke also staring at my screen.

"That's a gnarly code you created." He looks at me in amazement and disgust. He leans in closely over my shoulder. Putting all my strength into my finger, I jab his shoulder to push him away.

"Hey, we are a team. I can take a peek." He grumbles, but heads back to his desk.

I shrug and look through the doctor's laptop first. She has several encrypted files that are still being decoded. I glance through her emails and start running them all through another code. This time I try to find key terms, especially targeting the names of the missing persons.

No search results yielded.

I keep creating iterations. I do a program-wide search of the entire computer, but nothing comes up. I find myself digging deeper until I feel a tap on my shoulder that brings me back to the present. Luke has a cup of coffee in his mouth and taps me with the other paper cup.

"Thank you." I appreciate his kindness. "Let me pick your brain, Luke. I have searched all over the laptop and finally have full access. Yet, nothing is coming up. The encrypted files are open, but they just look like tax documents. What do you think you would do if you were a lead data scientist and the inspiration of the latest encrypted fintech?"

I try to rack my brain but come up with no answers. I am missing something critical with the files. I am sure.

"Try cross-referencing the files and data through the other agencies on this case. The files may not look very useful by themselves, but combined, we may shed some light on it."

"True. I need to take a step back." I can't believe I overlooked it.

As I start running the files through the other agencies, I get a few pings. Each ping brings excitement to me.

Each missing person had one transaction account within the past year of their disappearance. They appear like random account numbers, but the original account can be traced back to an offshore account. It is virtually untraceable, but the coordinates all point within the same proximity in a private bank in Zurich, Switzerland. All the missing people were fairly normal with their transactions, and these were the only ones left unexplained.

Damn, we don't have jurisdiction, so I can't just go hacking into these accounts.

I peer through another screen as I get another ping.

In the decrypted phone, there is a single, ominous message that reads, "You should have stayed out of this."

There's no sender information, no context, just this brief, threatening line. It's vague enough that she can't tell who sent it or why, but it clearly implies that the doctor was targeted for a reason. This unsettling clue deepens the mystery, making me suspect that whatever she was involved in, it led directly to her disappearance.

A light bulb turns on in my brain. Knowing how paranoid Dr. Nakamoto was with her financial documents, I figure she keeps things separately in a secure location. Perhaps she has them stored in a hard copy or flash drive. That is what I usually do.

As I compile everything into a report, I print all the necessary information. I don't have time to make a formal report. Instead, I rush to Clancy's office again. He looks even more grumpy than usual. I respect his presence as he is pulling an all-nighter with all of us.

"All the missing people have one transaction that links them to an offshore account in Zurich, Switzerland. Here's what I have so far." I place the folder on his desk.

He remains silent as he looks through the file. "Switzerland is a headache. Why does it have to be Switzerland?" He mumbles low under his breath.

His gives me a nod of approval. "What are you still doing here? You can go home."

"But we are all still working..." I almost refuse. The long night is making me crazy. Why am I avoiding a long rest at home?

"You should rest up your injuries. I'll relay the findings to the team. Don't make me repeat myself." This time he doesn't look up, but his tone ends the conversation.

I don't even question how he knew about my accident. Instead, I pack up my things.

Chinedu and Luke glance at me in envy. "Are you going home?"

"He basically yelled at me to go rest." I don't know if he's being nice or if I just look that bad and he pities me.

"I'll see you in a few hours. Bring me some pie from that bakery nearby you, and I won't hate you as much." Luke says, still envious of me.

"I will." I cover a fat yawn.

I squint when I open the doors to the outside world. The light sunrise greets my eyes. I forget the office has almost no windows. The thick walls are supposedly to block out interference from the spies too.

As I head to the parking, I spend some time looking for my Betty. Then, I realize she's already retired and my bike is totaled. It takes me some time to remember where I parked Ally's car, since so many people drive Teslas these days.

I admire the silence and comfort of her car for a while. My old vehicles could never be as smooth and user-friendly as this.

As I stop by my apartment, I completely forget the gaping hole in my garage where the intruder burned his way through. My life has been incredibly hectic lately.

I grab a large sheet of wood from my garage and carefully cover the hole. I decide to call my contractor, Steve, to come fix the garage. He is Ally's hotel contractor, who can usually fix everything for me. I also call Ally's surveillance company to install their tech in my place. As much as I've been through, I plan on staying here forever. I bought the loft space with my hard-earned money without any financial help from my dad.

That is why I am also always grinding hard at my current job since I have a lot of financial responsibilities.

I almost yell in defeat when I see the mess in my place. The furniture is all broken, and bullet holes dot all over the place. There are scorch marks in random spots.

I am going to have to tip Steve heavy for this huge destruction.

I walk gingerly around the piles of mess. I figure I can clean up after I rinse and nap.

Out of sight, out of mind.

___

I wake up to a hand covering my mouth.

I scream and bite the hand immediately. As I grab my gun from under my pillow, I realize it's empty. I grab my knife in my headboard and stab him in his arm.

He screams in pain and lets go of me.

I jump back and stare at him carefully. He blocks off my only exit to the bedroom. I debate if I want to leap through my window but it's a twenty foot drop. My shoulder is busted and my ribs are bruised.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he holds up a hand before he clenches his arm. His hand glows as he burns the wound close. In another time, I would be impressed by this.

"I find that too late." I laugh sarcastically as I gesture to my body.

"You started shooting at me before I could say anything. I had to defend myself." He reasons.

"But you broke into my house." I scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. Is my intruder blaming me?

He sighs and pulls down the deep hood to show his face. He appears to be in his late twenties and stands tall with a commanding presence. From our interactions, I know he is very strong and powerful. His dark hair is slightly tousled, giving him a rugged look that complements his intense, piercing eyes. The most striking feature is the burn mark on his neck, a jagged scar that hints at a past full of pain and danger. Despite this, he carries himself with an effortless coolness, exuding an aura of danger that's both intimidating and intriguing. His strong jawline and the way he moves with controlled precision suggest that he's not someone to be trifled with.

His light hazel eyes flicker like flames, an eerie and mesmerizing quality that seems almost impossible, as if there's a fire smoldering within him. This unusual trait makes his gaze intense. The flickering in his eyes adds to his already dangerous presence, making it clear that there's something extraordinary about him, something that sets him apart from everyone else.

Ahem. I clear my throat, "You've shown your face. Does that mean you're going to kill me now?"

He rolls his eyes, "No, I'm showing you that I mean no harm. You can trust me a little. You have seen my face."

My eyes keep darting to the door as I wait for an opportunity. I really cannot win in a fight against this superhuman in my current condition. He can't even die from a gun.

"Here," he hands me back my gun as if a token of friendship or trust.

I immediately point it at him. He stands and looks down the barrel. We both know it's useless.

I put it back down and sit on my bed, "You know, I desperately needed just one good night of rest."

"Yeah...can't afford to do that. I didn't expect you'd come back here and I really need to talk to you."

"So, what's your name?"

"It's Kairos."

"And why do you need my help, or at least my dad's?"

"Your dad can help me with this," he gestures to his now glowing hands. "I wasn't born this way."

We stare down at the fire coming from his hands. I don't think most humans can do this.

"He's not a scientist. What good does his involvement do for you? Just get straight to the point."

"It's a long story."

"I have time." I nod for him to start.

He begins by saying my father had a critical role in the inception of this experiment. He may have been one of the lead military figures overseeing this project. The project had good intentions at first, such as developing enhanced human abilities for defense purposes or advancing medical research to help soldiers recover from injuries. However, as the project progressed, it took a darker turn, with the organization pushing the boundaries of ethics and human rights.

Kairos doubts her father was fully aware of the extent to which the experiments would go. He had some involvement in the strategic planning and covert operations necessary to keep the project hidden from public and governmental scrutiny.

Over time, as the true nature of the experiments became apparent— severe human rights violations, dangerous procedures, or uncontrollable powers—her father tried to shut it down. It was officially discontinued, but secretly continued by the organization itself.

His attempts to stop the project made him a target, and knowing this, he might have taken steps to protect Lylae from becoming involved.

If the organization somehow continues the experiments, her father's role could be revealed as someone who tried to contain the damage, but ultimately failed, leaving Lylae to deal with the fallout. His knowledge was crucial to uncovering the full extent of the organization's plans.

My brain continues to process and decipher this huge discovery. "The missing people...they are starting again. When did it shut down?"

"I escaped eight years ago, so probably around then."

"When did they kidnap you? Are there more of you?"

He hesitates.

"I'm the only here who can help you," I narrow my eyes in warning.

"I was the first successful experiment. I don't think I'm the last one. They kept me in solitary for most of my life from others, unless they were staff." He looks away as he says this. "I was born into the experimental trials."

"I need time to process this..but my government job...they know about this."

"You can't share this with anyone." His eyes flicker dangerously and he suddenly perks up.

"They're going to find out. They have some leads." I shake my head.

"This project was confidential to all the agencies, except for the President. There are a lot of hidden secrets we shouldn't unveil."

"Well,  you just dropped on a bomb on me. Like I said, I need to process and I haven't had proper sleep. Please leave and go the fuck away." I shoo him with my gun and fight off the urge to shoot him.

He seems to disappear into thin smoke. I wonder how he does that.

I lay on my bed and think about the past 24 hours.

My exhausted mind and body falls back to sleep.