Chapter 54: The Noodle Shop Bunker

 

The Old District. 8:00 PM.

The black SUV navigated the narrow, potholed alleys of the Old District like a shark swimming in a sewer. "We lost them," the driver announced, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Sebastian looked out the window at the peeling paint and flickering streetlights. "Where are we, Harper?"

"The only place on earth that doesn't have a digital footprint," Harper said, pointing to a faded red sign ahead. [ Evans' Hand-Pulled Noodles ]

The car stopped. "Are you serious?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You want to hide the CEO of Sterling Corp in a... soup kitchen?"

"It's not a soup kitchen," Harper opened the door. "It's a fortress. The walls are three feet thick, there are no security cameras, and the neighbors are all retired butchers who hate strangers." She offered him her hand. "Trust me."

Sebastian sighed. He grabbed his cane (he was too exhausted to use the wheelchair on the uneven pavement) and stepped out. The smell of star anise, beef bone marrow, and old wood hit him instantly. It didn't smell like money. It smelled like... life.

---

[The Arrival]

Inside, Mr. and Mrs. Evans were wiping down the tables. The shop was closed for the night. When the door opened, Mrs. Evans dropped her rag.

"Harper? And... Mr. Sterling?" She looked at Sebastian’s torn suit, his pale face, and the gun bulge under his jacket. "Oh my god! Did you rob a bank?"

"Worse, Mom," Harper locked the door and pulled down the metal shutters. Clang. "We're on the run."

"On the run?" Mr. Evans rushed out of the kitchen holding a ladle. "From who? The police?"

"From bad people," Sebastian said, his voice strained. He was leaning heavily on his cane, his legs trembling from the effort. "Mr. Evans, I apologize for the intrusion. But we need a safe place for the night."

"Sit! Sit!" Mrs. Evans immediately went into 'Mom Mode'. She pulled out a plastic stool. Sebastian looked at the greasy, wobbly plastic stool. It looked like it would collapse under his ego, let alone his weight.

"It's clean," Harper patted the stool. "Sit down, Your Highness."

Sebastian sat. His long legs were cramped under the small laminate table. His $5,000 suit brushed against a sticky soy sauce bottle. He looked ridiculous. And completely out of place.

"Are you hungry?" Mr. Evans asked. "You look like ghosts."

"I'm fine," Sebastian started to say. Growl. His stomach betrayed him. He hadn't eaten since the gala.

Mr. Evans grinned. "Two bowls of spicy beef noodles. Coming right up! Extra coriander for Harper, no coriander for the boss, right?"

Sebastian blinked. "How did you know I don't like coriander?"

"Harper told us," Mrs. Evans smiled warmly. "She said, 'My boss is a picky eater. He hates green things unless it's money'."

Harper choked on her water. "Mom!"

Sebastian looked at Harper. A small smirk played on his lips. "Is that so?"

---

[The Flash Drive]

While the noodles were boiling, Harper pulled out an old, dusty laptop from behind the counter. "It's running Windows 98, but it works," she said, plugging in the flash drive Louis gave her.

Sebastian leaned in, their shoulders touching. The screen flickered. A video file opened.

The image was grainy. A woman sat in a lab coat, looking terrified. She had Harper’s eyes. Catherine.

"If you are watching this," Catherine whispered to the camera, "then I am dead. And Project Helios has been activated."

Sebastian’s hand tightened on the table.

"They think Helios is a cure," Catherine continued. "But it's not. It's a weapon. It edits the genetic code to remove empathy. To create soldiers who obey without question." "I stole the Source Code. The only stable sequence."

She looked directly into the lens. "I didn't hide it in a bank. I didn't hide it in a server. I hid it in the one place they would never look." "I hid it with the noodle maker."

The video cut to black.

Harper and Sebastian slowly turned their heads to look at the kitchen. Mr. Evans was humming a tune, happily pulling dough into long, thin strands. Thwack. Thwack.

"Dad?" Harper called out, her voice shaking.

"Yeah, sweetie?" Mr. Evans walked out with two steaming bowls.

"Did... did Catherine ever give you something? Besides me?"

Mr. Evans froze. He put the bowls down. He wiped his hands on his apron. He looked at Mrs. Evans. She nodded.

"She gave us a recipe," Mr. Evans said softly.

"A recipe?" Sebastian frowned. "For noodles?"

"No," Mr. Evans walked to the ancestral shrine in the corner. He moved the incense burner. Underneath was a loose tile. He pried it open. He pulled out a small, heavy object wrapped in oilcloth.

He unwrapped it on the table. It wasn't a computer chip. It wasn't a document. It was an old-fashioned metal rolling pin. Solid steel. Heavy. Engraved with strange, intricate patterns that looked like flowers but were actually... binary code.

"She said," Mr. Evans whispered, "'If anyone ever comes for Harper, give them this. But until then, use it to make the best noodles in the city.'"

Sebastian stared at the rolling pin. He realized with a jolt of horror and admiration. For 30 years, the most dangerous weapon in the world had been used to roll dough in a noodle shop.

"This is it," Sebastian touched the cold metal. "The Key."

Suddenly, a loud BANG shook the metal shutters outside. "Open up! Police!"

Sebastian’s head snapped up. "That's not the police," he whispered, drawing his gun. "Police knock. Mercenaries breach."

He looked at Harper. "Take the rolling pin. Go out the back."

"I'm not leaving you!"

"I can't run, Harper!" Sebastian shouted. "My legs are done! Go!"

Mr. Evans grabbed a cleaver from the kitchen counter. His face was grim. "Nobody takes my daughter," the old man growled. "Mr. Sterling, can you shoot?"

Sebastian looked at the old noodle maker holding a cleaver, and his wife holding a pot of boiling water. He realized he wasn't protecting them. They were a team.

He racked the slide of his pistol. "I never miss."