The house fell quiet. Jay still had his head bowed, his hands trembling a little. Liam wanted to step closer, but he held back—Levant was watching.
Suddenly Jay's shoulders slumped and his breathing grew shallow.
"Noah… I'm dizzy…" he said.
Before the sentence finished, Jay's knees gave out and his body lurched forward.
Liam and Levant moved at the same instant. Liam reached him first—his arms wrapped around Jay's waist and he caught the full weight before Jay hit the floor.
Levant stopped half a step away; his fingers came close to Jay's shoulder, but Liam had already pulled Jay close to his chest.
"Jay!" Liam's voice was tight with worry.
Jay closed his eyes, breath uneven. "I… I'm dizzy… the scent…"
Levant tried to step forward. "Let me—"
Liam shot him a sharp look, low and cold. "Don't touch him. He doesn't need you."
Levant smiled small, but his eyes were hard. "I just want to help. I knew him long before you showed up."
Liam ground his teeth.
"You're the ex—act like it."
He lifted Jay gently as if holding someone precious. Jay clutched Liam's shirt to steady himself.
"Noah, get water," Liam ordered without looking at anyone.
Levant stood back, hands in his pockets, the displeasure obvious on his face as he watched Jay lean fully on someone else.
Carl watched the scene silently. He'd noticed the tension between the two men from the start, but he didn't want to interfere.
After they laid Jay down on the sofa and Liam sat down beside him without moving, Carl spoke quietly.
"Eric… come with me for a bit."
Eric looked at him, curious. "Now?"
Carl nodded. "Just a moment."
Eric followed him out to the porch. The outside light was dim, a cold wind ruffled Carl's hair. He leaned against the wall—calm, but there was something he needed to say.
Eric waited. "What's up?"
Carl held out a hoodie and looked at Eric. "This… this your hoodie? Clara gave it to you?"
Eric nodded. "Yeah. It's mine."
Carl paused, then looked at Eric. "You and my sister… what's going on?"
Eric let out a small smile. "Nothing, we're just close."
Carl frowned. "If you can… don't get too close to her."
Eric flinched. "Why?"
Carl took a long breath. "I told you… there's a reason. But—just don't get too close. That's all."
Eric studied Carl, trying to read what he meant, but the air between them remained tense.
Noah stood behind a corner, eyes sharp on the bar entrance. Neon lights flickered, casting shifting shadows across passing faces. Eric came up beside him, steps quiet, hand always near his pocket—ready.
"Check-in," Noah murmured in their low SOP tone. "CCTV covers three checkpoints. We split, silent entry, no attention."
Eric nodded and pulled up the bar's digital layout on his phone, marking camera positions and the back entrance route. "There's movement—new buyer activity," he said, pointing to a red dot on the map. "Looks like a potential FEROM9 buyer."
Noah drew his breath and scanned the people entering. "Understood. Maintain cover. Don't rush. Gather data, verify IDs, then plan extraction."
They slipped in along the wall, avoiding the spotlights and the busy bartender. Every clink of glass and laugh was mentally logged. Small hand signals cleared checkpoints.
Eric spotted a young woman who looked both familiar and out of place. "Noah… target might be linked. She's connected to operatives we've tracked."
Noah frowned. "Keep eyes. Don't engage. Confirm her link to the FEROM9 network first."
They edged to a quieter corner where the noise dropped and the red lighting threw the floor in dim patches. Eric signaled he'd approach from the side for rear cover. Noah nodded and moved behind a pillar.
When a moment opened, they closed in. The woman sat alone, staring into her drink like she was waiting. Eric checked his feed, lips barely moving. "Scan complete. She's connected to the FEROM9 supply chain. Confirmed."
Noah watched her interactions—how she spoke low with the bartender, the quiet code language he recognized. "Target active. Keep SOP: don't engage directly. Log timeline, record visuals. Extraction at the back exit. Collect intel, avoid exposure."
They drifted toward the back door, silent. Outside the air was cold and the city hummed faintly below. Eric lowered his hood and exhaled. "Data captured. We'll analyze back at base."
They moved a few blocks away to the van, staying aware of every shadow. Eric tapped the roof camera into place and pulled out a Ferom9 scanner to cross-check the signal. Noah catalogued movement, timestamps, and possible contacts. "Buyer indicator shows another potential contact next week. We'll track pattern before we intercept."
Eric assembled gear, plugging tools into his laptop. "If we hit them now, we expose the network. Better to gather solid intel and plan."
They scanned a side alley and Eric noticed a man hunched in the darkness, staring at something in his hands. "Noah… interference. Agent or informant. Move per SOP. Don't confront."
Noah signaled retreat. They backed away quietly, scanning exit options, each step coordinated by years of protocol. "Keep low profile; stay covert," Noah reminded.
Later in the van, they reviewed the footage. Eric uploaded the logs—timestamps, comms, visual captures. "All captured. Clean intel. We have a pattern."
Noah leaned back and let out a long breath. "One step closer to the target. But we can't rush."
They waited for the traffic to ease, then started the engine. "Extraction routes ready. We pick the safest option when civilian flow is high. Blend in."
Eric patted Noah's shoulder. "Stay coordinated. Target may act again in hours or days. Keep watch."
The van rolled through narrow streets, city lights slicing through the night fog. Every sound, every second: alert. FEROM9 didn't wait.
They pushed on through the night, focused on a single objective: complete intel, controlled network, step-by-step operation.