Ryan and Tyrone pulled into the driveway of the safehouse, dust kicking up beneath the tires. They stepped out of the car, the air heavy with the scent of fallen leaves and the faint tang of the city and immediately noticed the bluish glow spilling from the living room window.
Maya sat at the laptop, her back straight, eyes darting across the screen with a meticulous precision that belied the hours she had already spent in this posture. Papers and printouts fanned out around her, some crumpled, others marked with scribbles and arrows. The only sound was the gentle tap of her fingers on the keyboard.
Tyrone shook his head, a wry half-smile tugging at his lips. "Do you ever rest, Maya?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Or is sleep just another myth you don't believe in?"
Maya didn't look up. "Sleep is for people who don't have a war in their backyard." she said quietly. "I'm fine."
Ryan moved toward the bedroom, where Brooklyn lay on the bed, curled in a heap beneath a thin blanket, her face pale and her eyes closed. He knelt beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. "You holding up?" he asked gently.
Brooklyn's eyes fluttered open, reflecting the faint light from the hall. She attempted a weak smile, the kind that tried to mask the raw storm beneath her skin. "I'm... managing." she whispered.
Maya closed the laptop with a soft snap and turned toward them, the seriousness in her expression immediately pulling the room into focus. "Now that you're both here, I can't start..." she began, "Uh-Ryan's contact finally got back to me about the Langston Corp."
She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "Apparently, the family went to great lengths to stay off the web. The founder made deals years ago to keep the family private. That's why it doesn't show up in any records." She paused, scanning their faces. "But that doesn't mean they don't exist... now the company is currently ran by his children. And the front man? Is Dave Langston."
Tyrone arched an eyebrow. "That's our guy? And we actually know what he looks like?"
Maya brought up a photograph on the screen. "Forty-five years old. And five days ago, he booked reservations at the Royal Hotel."
Tyrone frowned. "Wait a second... shouldn't he live in a mansion or something? I thought these guys didn't even show their faces."
Maya shook her head. "They do but the booking is legit. Could be a temporary stay... personal matters maybe." Her voice dropped slightly. "Though he's not married. Doesn't appear to be seeing anyone cause dude devoted all his time to running the company."
Brooklyn shifted on the bed, forcing herself upright, brushing past the grief that had consumed her. She tucked her hair behind her ear, her eyes now sharp, burning with renewed purpose. "Alright..." she said, her voice iron, betraying none of the day's tears. "Now that we know where he is, we go and get some answers from him."
Ryan's jaw tightened. "Brooklyn... we just buried your parents today. You can't..."
"You... you just buried my parents, Ryan." she interrupted, voice trembling yet resolute. "Now you rest, mourn or whatever. But me? I'm going after that bastard."
Without another word, she swung her legs off the bed, grabbed a duffel bag and slung it across her shoulder. She then snatched Ryan's car keys from the nightstand.
Maya didn't hesitate. "I'm coming with." she said firmly, rising from the table and gathering her gear.
Maya followed behind her. She glanced at Ryan, who simply nodded, understanding that there would be no stopping Brooklyn today.
The two of them exited the safehouse, slipping into the sleek black car that gleamed under the fading sun. Brooklyn's hands gripped the wheel, eyes scanning the streets as Maya settled in the passenger seat.
The engine purred like a coiled spring, ready to unleash fury on the world.
"Dave Langston thinks he can hide behind hotels and secrecy. He has no idea what's coming." Her voice was low and deliberate. "He's mine now."
Maya exhaled slowly. "When we get there..." he said, voice calm but firm. "We do this smart, no mistakes."
Brooklyn's lips pressed into a thin line, the fire in her eyes unyielding. "That's not the point anymore. He's the next piece and I'll see it through."
Maya leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing at the rearview mirror. "All I'm saying is that let's make sure we know every angle."
Brooklyn smirked faintly, pressing the accelerator just as the last streaks of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon.
And as the city lights blurred past them, Brooklyn's voice, soft yet unyielding, carried through the confined space of the car. "Tonight... he pays."