The guy at the desk finally looks up—young, maybe early 30s, but with the kind of eyes that've seen too much. His nose is crooked like it's been broken more than once, and his keyboard's stained with fingerprints and old cigarette ash.
"You FL?" he asks, like the name already tastes like bad decisions.
"Yeah," I say. "This Noon."
Noon gives a lazy salute like he's about to ask if they serve food here. The desk guy just exhales, already over us.
"Name's Silas. I run ops here."
"Ops?" I glance around. "This looks like a hacker den."
Silas smirks. "It is. But that's just the surface. Luca said you've got a good head under all that Flori-don't chaos. Said you move like someone who's used to making bad choices work in his favor."
"Did he also say I drove a sedan through a glass window on command?"
Silas leans back. "He liked that part the most."
He stands and strolls over to a corkboard cluttered with maps, red string, and photos. Classic conspiracy wall—except this one's covered in car dealerships, junkyards, city council members… and one blurry image of a man in a red suit standing at the edge of a swamp.
"This is who we're really after," Silas says, tapping the red-suited man's photo. "Name's Bishop Rime. Thinks he runs half the city. Cars, real estate, backroom deals. He doesn't pretend to play fair. He burns anyone who steps outta line."
"So… what's the plan?" Noon asks, arms crossed like he's trying to look tough.
Silas pulls down a folder and slaps it on the table. Inside: blueprints, contracts, a small black keycard.
"You two are gonna steal something for us. A ledger Rime keeps in a club called Mirage. Digital, encrypted, and completely off-grid. Only way in is with this card—and someone desperate or dumb enough to use it."
I raise a brow. "And that's us?"
He grins. "That's you."
Noon whistles. "Man, I thought we left the repo game behind."
"Different ride, same risk," I mutter, flipping through the folder. "And what if we get caught?"
Silas shrugs. "You're from Flori-don't. You'll figure it out."
Suddenly, a phone buzzes. The guy who let us in checks it and goes pale.
Silas snatches the phone, reads the message, and his jaw tightens.
"Change of plans. Luca's gone dark."
I tense. "What do you mean 'gone dark'?"
"Means he's tied up—something urgent. He won't be showing up. So I'll be the one starting you off."
He tosses me the keycard. "You want out? Now's the time. But if you want in—if you want to know what Luca was really doing—then you hit Mirage tonight. No backup. Just you two, the keycard, and a whole lot of risk."
I glance at Noon. He's quiet, staring at the photo of Bishop Rime like something about it bugs him.
"You in?" I ask him.
Noon looks at me, then back at Silas.
"Let's steal a secret."
And just like that, we were back in the game—except this time, the stakes were bigger, the players nastier, and we weren't repo men anymore.
We were ghosts chasing shadows.
And if I've learned anything about shadows in Flori-don't?
They always hide something worse.
The other man in the room had a rugged edge to him—square jaw, close-cropped dark hair, and a neatly trimmed beard that matched the sharpness in his eyes. His white shirt was open at the collar, just enough to suggest ease, but everything about his posture screamed control. There was a quiet intensity in his stare, the kind that didn't flinch under pressure. He looked like someone who'd seen action—maybe military, maybe something less official.
He turned to FL and Noon, his voice low and steady. "Luca's busy… but then again, he's always busy. Always up to something."
Then he flashed them a look—sharp, knowing, and just a bit amused—like he already knew they were in deeper than they realized.
"Name's Nikolai Volkov," he added, letting it hang in the air like a warning.
Nikolai stepped closer, the floor creaking under his boots like it had the sense to stay quiet. He gave Silas a look that said get to the point—and Silas, to his credit, didn't argue.
"He's your escort," Silas said. "Just for the entry. Mirage isn't the kind of place you walk into uninvited."
Nikolai didn't smile. "It's the kind of place where you shake the wrong hand and lose it."
"Sounds friendly," Noon muttered.
"Depends on who you ask," Nikolai replied, already moving toward a metal cabinet in the corner. He pulled out a battered duffel bag and tossed it on the table. The zipper screamed open, revealing two earpieces, a slim signal jammer, and a handgun that looked like it had a story longer than any of theirs.
"You go in clean," he said. "No weapons, no heat. That's the only way to get through the front. Once you're inside, this jammer buys you ten minutes. No surveillance, no trackers. After that? You're on your own."
I nodded, pocketing the keycard Silas had handed me. "What's security like?"
Nikolai smirked. "Like trying to rob a church run by ex-cons. Cameras, goons, facial scans—plus Rime's got his own freakshow watching the vault."
"Define freakshow," Noon said, half-serious.
"Guy named Arlo. Never seen him blink. Smiles too much. Too calm. Last person who tried to lift anything out of Mirage ended up gift-wrapped in their own bumper."
Noon raised his eyebrows. "So we're walking into a club, dodging a smiling psycho, and stealing a digital ghost from a guy who thinks he's untouchable?"
"Yep," I said. "Just like old times."
Nikolai tossed me the jammer. "You've got until midnight. That's when the power cycles. Ten minutes of blackout in the vault corridor. It's the only window."
"And if the power doesn't cycle?" I asked.
Silas shrugged. "Then you improvise."
Noon looked between us. "Y'know, for a city that doesn't believe in rules, Flori-don't sure loves its complications."
Nikolai's eyes narrowed, his tone dead calm. "You want simple, go rob a gas station."
I slipped the earpiece into my pocket. "Alright then. Midnight. Mirage. No backup, no plan B."
Silas nodded, and for the first time, there was something like respect in his voice. "Luca picked you for a reason."
"Yeah," I muttered, already heading for the door, "but that doesn't mean he was right."
As we stepped out into the humid night, the city lights blinked like warning signs on a ticking bomb. Mirage was waiting. And whatever secrets Rime had locked inside?
We were about to kick the door open.
Or die trying.