Kai didn't move when the message vanished.
The burner phone felt heavier than it should, like it was aware of what it carried. Not just data—but leverage. Someone out there knew where to press.
A bus hissed to a stop across the street. People climbed down, laughed, argued, lived. None of them knew that three minutes ago, Kai's life had narrowed to a single choice: run blind, or move smart.
He chose the second.
Kai slipped the phone into his jacket and crossed into the mechanic's shop, the bell above the door giving a tired jingle. The smell of oil and metal wrapped around him. Familiar. Safe—for now.
"Lock it," Kai said quietly.
Tunde looked up from under a car, grease on his cheek. "You don't usually say please."
"Lock. It."
Tunde straightened, read Kai's face, and didn't ask questions. He slid the metal door shut and dropped the latch.
"You're late," Aisha said from the back office. She was seated on a crate, laptop open, fingers hovering but not typing. "Which means something went wrong."
"Something moved," Kai replied. "And it knows my name."
That got her attention.
He pulled out the burner and placed it on the table between them. "Encrypted ping. Custom protocol. Not police."
Tunde frowned. "So who?"
"Someone higher," Kai said. "Someone who doesn't like unfinished business."
Aisha leaned in, eyes sharp. "Show me."
Kai nodded once. Permission.
She lifted the phone, already working through layers most people didn't even know existed. Silence stretched. The ticking wall clock sounded too loud.
After a minute, she exhaled slowly. "This isn't a threat."
Tunde blinked. "It literally threatened him."
"No," Aisha said. "It's a test."
Kai met her gaze. "Explain."
"They could've burned you already," she continued. "Dropped your location, sent men, leaked your face. Instead, they pinged you. That means they want to see how you respond."
Tunde scoffed. "So what—this is some kind of game?"
Aisha shook her head. "It's recruitment. Or containment."
Kai felt it settle in his chest. Heavy. Cold. "They think I'm useful."
"For now," she said.
Tunde cursed under his breath. "I told you that job was dirty."
"It was supposed to be clean," Kai replied. "In and out. No witnesses."
Aisha finally looked up from the phone. "You didn't make a mistake, Kai. You stumbled into a system."
She turned the screen toward him. Lines of code scrolled past, then stopped.
"I traced the signal bounce," she said. "Not exact, but close enough."
"And?" Kai asked.
"There's a node," she replied. "Private infrastructure. Military-grade shielding. Whoever runs it isn't local muscle."
Tunde folded his arms. "Then we're dead."
"No," Kai said calmly. "We're ahead."
Both of them looked at him.
"They reached out," Kai continued. "Which means they don't know everything. Yet."
Aisha's lips curved faintly. "That's the right answer."
Kai straightened. "We flip the pressure."
Tunde laughed, sharp and humorless. "With what? Hope?"
"With timing," Kai said. "And truth."
Aisha tilted her head. "Careful. Truth is expensive."
"Lies are worse," he replied. "They collapse."
He tapped the table once. "They want a response. We give them one—on our terms."
Tunde shook his head. "You're talking like this is a negotiation."
"It is," Kai said. "They just don't know it yet."
Aisha studied him for a long moment. "If you answer, you expose yourself."
"If I don't," Kai said, "they tighten the net."
Silence again.
Then Aisha nodded. "Alright. One message. Controlled. No identifiers. We don't beg, and we don't bluff."
She slid the phone back to him. "What do you say?"
Kai thought of the device. The one everyone seemed to want. The reason the first strike had happened at all.
He typed slowly.
You're late. I was already looking for you.
Aisha's eyebrows lifted. "Bold."
"They already think I'm useful," Kai said. "Let's not disappoint."
He sent it.
For ten seconds, nothing happened.
Then the phone vibrated.
A single line appeared.
Good. Then you understand urgency.
Tunde swore softly. "They answered fast."
"They were waiting," Aisha said.
Another message followed.
You have something we need. You also have a problem. We can solve both.
Kai didn't reply immediately.
He looked at his friends—at the grease-stained hands, the tired eyes, the loyalty that hadn't cracked yet.
"This is where it gets dangerous," he said.
Tunde smirked. "You think we didn't notice?"
Kai nodded once. "I'm not handing anything over. Not yet."
Aisha closed the laptop. "Then we prepare."
"For what?" Tunde asked.
Kai stared at the phone, already knowing the answer.
"For a meeting," he said. "And a choice."
Outside, the city kept moving. Inside the shop, the game finally showed its board.
And Kai was no longer just reacting.
He was being positioned.