THE VAN

The van’s sliding door slammed shut with a metallic thud, plunging Elena into near-darkness. The smell of damp canvas and gasoline filled her nose. She was thrown sideways onto a padded bench as the vehicle lurched into motion.

Hands grabbed her wrists, snapping a plastic tie around them. Another pair of hands yanked her hood back.

“Got her,” a voice muttered. Male, rough, clipped like a soldier’s.

Elena twisted, heart hammering. Two men in black tactical jackets sat across from her, faces shadowed under caps. A third drove up front. No insignias, no names.

“Let me go!” she demanded, voice trembling but loud. “I don’t have anything!”

One of the men smirked. “You’ve got more than you think.” He pulled a small tablet from his pocket, swiping. “Decoy drive. Cute. You really think we’re stupid?”

Her blood ran cold. “What decoy?” she asked weakly.

“Don’t play dumb.” He held up a different flash drive — the real one.

Her stomach dropped. “How—”

“Your professor’s not as clever as he thinks,” the man sneered. “We’ve been a step ahead since he joined this little game.”

Elena’s mind spun. Had Adrian been caught? Had they tricked him?

She forced herself to breathe evenly. “What do you want from me?”

The man leaned forward, eyes glinting. “Where is Adrian Wells?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered truthfully.

He studied her face, then sat back. “Doesn’t matter. He’ll come to you. They always do.”

The van swerved sharply. Elena slid on the bench, shoulder slamming into the wall. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself not to cry out.

Think, she told herself. Panicking won’t help.

Her phone. She’d kept the prepaid hidden in her boot. Her hands were tied, but if she could shift enough, maybe—

The man’s gaze flicked down. “Don’t even try,” he said softly.

She froze.

He smiled faintly. “We’re jamming all signals anyway. No calls in or out.”

Her chest tightened. Adrian…

They drove in silence for what felt like forever. The city lights faded to industrial sprawl, then to darkness. Finally, the van slowed, turned down a gravel path, and stopped.

The sliding door opened. Cold night air rushed in.

“Out,” the man ordered.

Elena stumbled onto rough ground. They’d stopped outside a low, windowless building — an abandoned warehouse on the edge of the river. The water glimmered faintly beyond a chain-link fence.

One man gripped her arm, steering her inside. The warehouse was dimly lit, stacks of crates forming a labyrinth. A portable floodlight cast harsh white light over a makeshift office at the far end — a table, chairs, and a laptop.

They sat her in a metal chair, plastic ties biting into her wrists. The leader placed the flash drive on the table in front of her like bait.

“You’re going to tell us everything,” he said calmly. “And then you’re going to call Wells.”

“I told you,” she said, voice shaking. “I don’t know where he is.”

He smiled thinly. “Then he’ll come for you. And when he does, this ends.”

He nodded to one of his men. “Make sure she’s comfortable.”

The man stepped forward, pulling a chair close. “Let’s talk, Elena.”

She forced herself to meet his eyes. “About what?”

“About how you met Wells. How long you’ve been working with him. Where he hides his backups.”

“I’m just a student,” she said. “I didn’t even know who he was until—”

He cut her off with a raised hand. “Stop. We’ve been watching you. The app, the messages, the tunnels. We know more than you think.”

Her heart pounded. “Then why ask me?”

“Because you’re leverage,” he said simply. “Everyone breaks eventually.”

Her stomach churned. She thought of Maya, of her parents back home. She couldn’t lead them into this.

Her phone buzzed faintly in her boot. She shifted slightly, hoping the sound was lost under the hum of the floodlight.

The leader frowned. “Check her.”

A man knelt, tugging at her boot. He pulled out the prepaid phone and held it up. “Signal’s dead,” he said.

The leader snatched it, glancing at the screen. “Still trying to reach you, professor?” he murmured, then crushed the phone under his boot.

Elena bit back a cry.

The leader leaned down, his face inches from hers. “Here’s how this works. You sit there until Wells shows up. When he does, you both disappear. Nice and clean.”

He straightened, turning to his men. “Lock her up.”

They dragged her to a smaller room — a storage space lined with empty shelves. They tied her to a chair bolted to the floor, then left, closing the door behind them.

The room smelled of dust and oil. A single bulb flickered overhead.

Elena’s hands trembled against the plastic ties. She pressed her forehead to her knees, forcing her breath slow. She couldn’t wait for Adrian to rescue her. She had to do something.

She twisted her wrists against the ties, feeling them bite into her skin. Pain shot up her arms. She kept twisting.

Footsteps passed outside the door. Voices murmured.

She thought of Adrian’s face when he’d handed her the drive. The warmth of his hand. His quiet, “We’re almost done.”

She wouldn’t let them take him.

She shifted her weight, rocking the chair slightly. One bolt in the floor squeaked. Again. Again. The squeak grew louder.

She worked the chair back and forth, inch by inch. The bolt loosened.

Sweat slicked her palms. She tugged harder. The bolt popped. The chair wobbled.

Outside, a door slammed. Shouts.

She froze, listening.

A loud crash echoed — something hitting metal. A shout. Then silence.

The door to her room creaked open.

She braced herself.

A silhouette filled the frame — tall, dark, familiar.

“Adrian?” she whispered.

He stepped inside, eyes scanning the room. He moved quickly, cutting her ties with a small blade. “We have to go,” he murmured.

Relief flooded her so hard her knees almost gave out. “How did you—”

“No time.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door.

They slipped into the warehouse maze. Crates towered around them, casting long shadows. Adrian moved with practiced precision, checking corners, guiding her through narrow paths.

“Where’s the drive?” he whispered.

“They have it,” she said.

He nodded grimly. “Good. That was a decoy too.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“I gave Calloway the real one. It’s already gone.”

She almost laughed — a shaky, incredulous sound. “You planned this?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “But I had contingencies.”

They reached a side door. He eased it open. Night air rushed in. Beyond the fence, the river glimmered.

“Can you swim?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“Can you swim?” he repeated.

“Yes—why?”

“Because we’re out of exits.”

Shouts erupted behind them. Flashlights sliced through the darkness.

Adrian grabbed her hand. “Go!”

They sprinted to the fence. He boosted her over first. She landed hard on the gravel below. He vaulted after her.

They ran to the riverbank as men poured out of the warehouse behind them.

“Jump!” Adrian hissed.

She hesitated. “It’s freezing!”

“Better than bullets,” he said.

Gunfire cracked. Gravel exploded near her feet.

She jumped.

The river swallowed her whole — black, icy, relentless. The shock stole her breath. She kicked upward, breaking the surface, gasping.

Adrian surfaced beside her, grabbing her arm. “Stay close!” he shouted over the current.

They swam hard, the current pulling them downstream. Lights blazed on the bank. Voices shouted. But the river carried them away into darkness.