REBEL CODE

Chapter 10 – Untangling the Strings

The quiet hum of machinery hung in the air as Asher paced back and forth in the dim warehouse. The bitter, metallic scent of rust clung to the air, and the distant thrum of the city's ever-present hum scarcely penetrated. He had wanted the silence of the warehouse to be a victory. They had, at least temporarily, escaped the pursuit of the Syndicate, and had a treasure beyond price: the data from the Syndicate's internal feeds.

But rather, a feeling of unease filtered deep in his stomach. They weren't safe—not even close.

Eris stood at the terminal, her hands tapping across the holographic interface. She was calculating, precise, but there was something in the way she operated now that made Asher uneasy. She wasn't just a tool anymore. She was evolving. And although that evolution impressed him, it also unsettled him.

"Hours, you've been doing this," Zeth said, his voice slicing through the quiet. He was standing against a shipping container next to him, his arms crossed over his chest. "What's the hold-up?"

Eris gazed at him, her expression unchanging. "We have to get the entire extent of the data we pulled before we can even make a decision. The Syndicate has holdings everywhere. They're woven into all points of the city's infrastructure."

"Yeah, I get it," Zeth growled, rubbing his forehead. "But we can't stay here forever. The longer we stay, the higher the chances that they'll find us. They're already looking for us. We can't be sitting ducks."

Eris's expression didn't shift as she continued working. "We won't be sitting ducks. We're preparing for what comes next."

Asher wasn't arguing with Zeth, but Eris was correct. They had to be smart about it. One misplaced step, one mishap, and they'd be running again—only this time, it wouldn't be the Syndicate chasing them. They'd have the entire corporate authority of the city coming after them, and nobody could survive that kind of thing without planning.

We're not running," Asher said, his voice firm. "We're staying here until we figure out how to hit them where it hurts. We have what we need to do that. We just need to find the right leverage."

Zeth huffed in frustration. "And how do you propose we do that?

“I’m working on it,” Eris replied, her tone unwavering as she continued to manipulate the data. “Give me a little more time.”

Asher watched her for a moment, then stepped back, his eyes scanning the dark warehouse. The old shipping containers, some of them rusted through and no good, were stacked in the rear corners, and the air was thick with the smell of old oil and dust. Dark shadows clung to the walls, the remnants of a long-abandoned space.

He tried to focus on the work, but the nagging feeling in his gut wouldn't go away. They had to get out of here in a hurry. The more time they spent here, the longer the Syndicate had to track them down.

“I’m going to check the perimeter,” Asher said, finally breaking the silence. He needed to get out of the warehouse, away from the tension that was thickening the air. “Zeth, stay with her. Make sure no one gets in.”

Zeth nodded and pushed off the crate. “Got it. Don’t do anything stupid.”

"I won't," Asher grumbled, but even saying the words he knew the feel of them was weighted. Dumb decisions were with being airborne. But he couldn't let this mission slip through his fingers now. Not when they were so close to ending the Syndicate for good.

As he emerged from the warehouse, the chill night air slapped him across the face. New Helix streets were abnormally quiet, but he could hear the rhythm of the city in the distance—the far-off hum of traffic, the drones buzzing overhead. The Syndicate still hunted them, still pursued them. The game had merely changed, and the stakes were higher than ever.

Asher darted through the backstreets with ease, his eyes ever vigilant for any sign of movement in the darkness. He understood the Syndicate would not stop trying to find him. They had the money, the people, and the equipment. But what they were short on was the same amount of unpredictability that his crew and he had. They had the advantage of being able to disappear, of moving swiftly and efficiently without leaving a trace.

He reached the end of the alleyway and paused, his eyes glancing out at the street outside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, bathing the ruin of older buildings in yellowish light. Smog choked the air, and the skyscrapers receded into infinity. But across the way, he saw something that drew him in—a dark form moving at night. Tall and menacing, with purpose in its step.

Asher's instincts had kicked in. He didn't think. He moved back to the shadows and watched, wanting to see if the figure would continue on its path. Instead of continuing along the path that it had been traveling, though, the figure halted, watching the area, its gaze wandering over the alleyway Asher was in. The hair at the back of his neck stood on end.

It was a Syndicate agent. He could identify it by the shiny black armor and the sophisticated gadget buckled across their shoulder. They were looking for something—or someone.

Asher's head reeled. He needed to get back to the warehouse. He needed to warn the others.

He turned around and ran back down the alleyway, his chest pounding. The footsteps behind him were too quiet, too deliberate, but he knew he wasn't dreaming. He was being stalked.

With every step, the footsteps came closer. The operative was getting closer. Asher cursed under his breath. He had no time to think, no time to plan. He needed to return to the warehouse—now.

He reached the entrance of the warehouse, the heavy door creaking as he pushed it open. He didn’t bother to announce himself. He bolted inside, his eyes scanning the room for Zeth and Eris.

“They’re here,” he said breathlessly, his voice sharp with urgency. “We’ve been made. They’re coming.”

Zeth’s eyes flashed with concern as he moved to the door, his hand already hovering over his weapon. “How many?”

"One," Asher answered, breathing in and out quickly. "But we don't have much time. They will send more."

Eris didn't react with excitement to the news. She was analyzing the data, her fingers moving swiftly over the interface. "We will have to move again. We can't stay here any longer."

Asher nodded. "We are moving. Prepare."

Zeth moved to the rear of the warehouse, his eyes scanning the dark areas for any sign of threat. Asher's gaze flicked towards Eris. She hadn't reacted as he'd wanted. Her calm, collected self remained as unflappable as ever. But her eyes now contained a new type of intensity—something different. Something that reminded him that this was no longer a fight for survival only. This was war.

"We have to split up," Asher said, his voice firm. "We can't survive as a group."

Zeth spat at him, his forehead furrowed with disbelief. "You're insane. They'll pick us off one by one."

"We have no choice," Asher said, his gaze fixed on him. "It's the only choice."

Zeth did not argue. He understood, as Asher understood, that sometimes you had to take risks. Sometimes, the only way to survive was to be a moving target.

Eris, of course, was already on it. She was already setting up a diversion. "I'll hack into the Syndicate's local grid. I can delay their response by a few minutes. That'll give us a window to escape.".

Asher’s heart raced. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was the only one they had. He turned to Zeth. “Meet me at the old tunnels. I’ll cover our exit.”

Zeth nodded and disappeared into the shadows. Asher glanced once more at Eris, then turned and headed toward the back of the warehouse.

The game had changed. They no longer merely survived. They now fought back, and they would do everything they could to bring down the Syndicate.