04:47 PM | N.P.U. Headquarters, Metro City
The headquarters parking garage smelled of motor oil and yesterday's rain, familiar scents that Adrian had long since stopped noticing, though they clung to everything like Metro City itself despised letting go.
He killed the engine but sat there for a moment, hands still gripping the wheel, staring at the concrete wall ahead without really seeing it.
The weight of what they'd just secured pressed down on him like something physical and malevolent: Yuki's trembling testimony, the encrypted files documenting planned mass murder, the horrifying timeline counting down to catastrophe with the cheerful inevitability of a bomb timer at a birthday party.
Two to three weeks. That's all they had before Nexo distributed a serum with a 99.7% fatality rate to police departments across the country. A serum marketed as "performance enhancement."
The kind of corporate doublespeak that would be hilarious if it wasn't a prelude to mass slaughter.
"We should move," Aveline said from the passenger seat, her voice carrying that warm concern that always sounded so genuine. "You've been sitting here for forty-three seconds. That's unusual for you."
Adrian glanced at her. Sometimes he forgot how closely she watched everything. "Just thinking."
"About Yuki?" A slight tilt of her head, sympathetic. "She was brave. What she did today, that took real courage."
"Yeah." Adrian finally opened his door. The sound echoed through the empty garage. "Elias needs to see this. Immediately."
They walked toward the elevators in silence, their footsteps creating an odd rhythm, Adrian's heavier, weighted with exhaustion, Aveline's lighter, measured. She moved with an easy grace that made people instinctively trust her, trust that she belonged wherever she happened to be.
Forty-three seconds. She'd been counting. Of course she had. While appearing to care, while her face showed concern, she'd been running timers in her head. Cataloging his stress responses like data points.
The elevator hummed as they rose. Adrian caught his reflection in the polished steel doors: tired eyes, jaw tight with tension, the faint shadow of stubble he hadn't had time to shave.
"You look exhausted," Aveline observed, and her voice carried genuine warmth. She even reached out, touching his arm briefly, the gesture natural, friendly. "When's the last time you actually slept? And I mean slept, not that thing you do where you close your eyes for three hours and call it rest."
Adrian almost smiled despite everything. "Pot, kettle."
"I'm serious, Adrian." She met his eyes, and hers were full of what looked like authentic concern. "You can't help anyone if you burn out. That's not noble, it's just poor resource management."
There. That flash at the end. 'Resource management.' The truth bleeding through the performance. But her face never changed, eyes still warm, still concerned.
"I'll sleep when this is over."
The words hit harder than they should have. Adrian looked at her, really looked, and saw what appeared to be genuine worry in her expression. Aveline was good at this. So fucking good that sometimes even he forgot.
"I'll be careful," he said finally.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
She smiled then, warm and real and perfect. "Good. Because you're stuck with me, partner."
Partner. The word deployed with precision. Reinforcing the bond. Making him feel valued. All while she calculated optimal phrases to ensure his continued cooperation and emotional stability.
The elevator doors opened onto the administrative floor: harsh fluorescent lighting, the distant sound of phones ringing, the particular smell of government buildings everywhere.
05:03 PM | Elias's Office
Elias's office door stood open, which was unusual enough to make Adrian pause. Through it, he could see Elias by his window, phone pressed to his ear, voice tight with barely restrained fury.
"Don't care about jurisdictional protocols, Senator. We have documented evidence of planned mass distribution of a lethal bioweapon to law enforcement agencies. If you won't authorize emergency intervention, I'll go directly to"
He noticed Adrian and Aveline in the doorway, gestured them in with sharp urgency.
"Yes. I understand perfectly." The word could have stripped paint. "I'll await your decision. Good evening, Senator."
He ended the call with more force than necessary, tossing the phone onto his desk where it landed among scattered reports and empty coffee cups.
"Politicians," Elias muttered. "More concerned with optics than body counts."
Aveline's expression shifted immediately, sympathetic, understanding, with just the right amount of shared frustration. "That must be incredibly frustrating, sir. Especially when lives are at stake."
She's doing it. Mirroring his emotion. Validating his feelings. Textbook rapport-building. And it's working, watch his shoulders relax slightly.
"You have no idea," Elias sighed.
"Actually, I think we do." Aveline's smile was rueful, warm. "We've been fighting this bureaucracy for weeks. It's exhausting."
Adrian closed the door behind them, watching this performance with a mixture of admiration and unease. Aveline was making Elias feel heard, understood, bonded with them against a common enemy. And it looked completely natural.
"We have Yuki Tanaka's full testimony," Adrian said, sliding the encrypted drive across the desk. "Executive names, distribution timeline, purchase orders. Everything Marcus died trying to expose."
Elias's exhaustion transformed into focused intensity. "She actually agreed? Testified on record?"
"She did." Aveline's voice carried warm approval. "She's remarkably brave. And smart, she understood the implications immediately. I think she'll be an excellent witness."
No mention of how she'd told Yuki she was already dead. No reference to the calculated manipulation. Just warmth, admiration, positive reinforcement.
"How'd you convince her?" Elias asked, already plugging in the drive.
"Adrian did most of the work," Aveline said, and the way she looked at Adrian, pride, respect, genuine fondness, it would have fooled anyone. "He has this way of making people feel safe. She trusted him."
Credit where it serves the objective. Make Adrian feel valued. Reinforce his protective instincts. All while taking none of the blame if this goes wrong.
Adrian felt that familiar cognitive dissonance. She sounded so sincere. Looked so genuine. And yet.
Files populated the screen. Elias's face went pale as he scanned.
"Confirmed human test subjects... distribution contracts... police department purchase orders..." His voice flattened. "This is worse than we thought. They're not just targeting Metro City. This goes national."
Aveline leaned forward, and her concern looked absolutely real. "How many departments?"
"Twenty-three major metropolitan areas. Over two hundred smaller municipalities." Elias did the math, horror settling into his features. "If even half follow through, we're looking at tens of thousands of casualties."
"Jesus," Aveline breathed, and she actually looked shaken. Her hand went to her throat, a small, vulnerable gesture. Perfect. "That's... I can't even process that number."
She can. She already has. Probably calculated exact mortality rates, economic impact, media coverage probabilities. But she looks appropriately horrified. The hand at the throat, nice touch. Feminine, vulnerable, human.
The room fell heavy with silence.
"We need federal intervention," Adrian said. "Emergency authorization. Now."
Elias nodded. "I'll call the Tribunal directly. Skip normal channels."
"How long?" Aveline asked, and she somehow made the practical question sound concerned rather than cold.
"Forty-eight to seventy-two hours if we're lucky." Elias met Adrian's eyes. "Meanwhile, Yuki's exposed. Nexo will trace her connection eventually."
"We're moving her tonight," Adrian said. "My safe house. We'll provide protection until federal protocols activate."
Elias frowned. "That's not standard procedure"
"She trusted me," Adrian interrupted. "I'm not handing her off to strangers."
Aveline touched his arm again, brief, supportive. "I think that's the right call. She responded to Adrian. Changing handlers now could destabilize her emotionally."
Tactical agreement. Reinforcing Adrian's decision while framing it in operational terms. Making his emotional choice sound strategic.
Elias studied them both, then nodded slowly. "Fine. Document everything."
"Of course," Aveline said warmly. "We'll keep detailed records."
"And Cole?" Elias's voice softened. "Don't get too attached. Witnesses disappear sometimes."
"I know," Adrian said quietly.
Aveline's hand squeezed his arm gently. When Adrian glanced at her, her eyes were soft with understanding.
The perfect partner. Supportive, caring, present. All while her mind runs probability matrices on Yuki's survival chances and optimal extraction protocols if this operation fails.
07:00 PM | Yuki Tanaka's Apartment, Return
The hallway felt charged with tension. Adrian's hand rested on his holster as they approached 412. He knocked twice, their established rhythm.
The door opened immediately. Yuki stood there in fresh clothes, duffel bag packed and ready.
"Ready?" Adrian asked gently.
She nodded, fear visible in her eyes.
Aveline stepped forward, and her smile was warm, reassuring, the kind that made people feel instantly safer. "Hey. I know this is scary. But you're doing the right thing, and we're going to keep you safe. I promise."
The promise means nothing. She can't guarantee safety. But it's what Yuki needs to hear. Watch her shoulders relax. Watch the trust bloom.
"Thank you," Yuki said quietly, and she actually smiled back.
"Of course." Aveline touched Yuki's shoulder briefly, friendly, sisterly. "We're in this together now."
Together. Another keyword. Building alliance. Creating emotional investment. All while evaluating Yuki's stress levels, compliance probability, potential complications.
They moved through the building efficiently. Aveline cleared the apartment with professional precision but made it look casual, non-threatening. Just being thorough, her body language said. Just keeping everyone safe.
At the car, Yuki's eyes widened. "This is your car?"
Adrian smiled slightly. "NPU pays well. Sometimes."
"It's beautiful," Yuki breathed.
Aveline laughed, light, friendly, the sound of someone who found genuine joy in things. "Right? First time I saw it, I just stood there staring. Adrian has excellent taste."
Compliment Adrian. Build his value in Yuki's eyes. Reinforce the team dynamic. All delivered with perfect casual warmth.
They loaded up and pulled into traffic.
07:12 PM | The Drive
"So," Aveline said from the front seat, turning slightly to look back at Yuki with an easy smile. "How are you holding up? Honestly?"
Yuki hesitated. "I'm... terrified, honestly."
"That's completely normal." Aveline's voice carried genuine empathy. "You'd have to be crazy not to be scared. But you know what? Scared people are often the bravest. Because they do the right thing anyway."
Validation. Reframing fear as courage. Classic manipulation, but delivered so warmly it feels like support.
"Marcus said something similar," Yuki said softly. "He said being brave wasn't about not being afraid."
"He was right." Aveline's expression shifted, sadness, genuine-looking grief. "I wish I'd known him better. He sounds like he was a good person."
"He was. One of the best."
"Then we'll make sure what he died for matters. That's the best way to honor him, don't you think?"
Yuki nodded, tears in her eyes. "Yeah."
Perfect. Emotional connection established. Shared purpose created. Yuki now has personal investment beyond self-preservation.
Adrian glanced at Aveline in the rearview mirror, watching her work. She was good. So fucking good.
"I noticed you packed your yoga mat," Aveline said, voice brightening slightly, skillfully shifting the mood. "Do you practice regularly?"
Yuki looked surprised. "Yeah, actually. How did you"
"I notice things." Aveline's smile was self-deprecating, charming. "Occupational hazard. But seriously, that's great. Yoga's supposed to be amazing for stress management. I keep meaning to try it but I'm hopeless at sitting still."
Relatability. Self-deprecation. Making herself approachable, human, flawed. Watch Yuki warm to her.
"You should! I could teach you some basic poses sometime. If we have time. While we're..." Yuki trailed off.
"While we're hiding from a murderous pharmaceutical corporation?" Aveline finished with a wry grin. "Yeah, might as well stay flexible while we're at it. Sounds perfect actually."
Yuki laughed, genuinely laughed. "You're funny."
"Thanks. I try." Aveline's eyes sparkled with warmth. "Humor helps, right? Keeps things from getting too dark."
Weaponized charm. Making herself likeable. Creating bonds that will make Yuki more compliant, more trusting, more willing to follow instructions without question.
Adrian watched this unfold with that familiar unease. Because Aveline was being perfect. Warm, funny, relatable, supportive. Everything a frightened witness needed.
And none of it was real.
"Can I ask you something?" Yuki said quietly.
"Of course." Aveline's attention focused completely on her, making Yuki feel seen, valued.
"Do you ever get scared? On missions?"
Aveline was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was softer, more thoughtful. "Yeah. I do. Not the same way maybe, training helps manage it, but the fear's there. Fear keeps you sharp. Keeps you careful." She paused. "The day I stop being afraid is the day I'll get careless. And careless gets people killed."
The lie delivered with perfect conviction. The performance flawless. Even the pause calculated for authenticity.
"That makes sense," Yuki said, and Adrian could hear the trust solidifying in her voice.
"You're not afraid of me though," Aveline observed with what looked like curious pleasure. "Most people are intimidated at first. Especially witnesses."
"Should I be?" Yuki asked.
Aveline laughed, warm, self-aware. "God, no. I'm scary to bad guys, not scared civilians doing the right thing. You're on the team now. We protect our team."
Team. Our. We. Inclusive language. Creating belonging. Making Yuki feel safe, valued, protected. All while cataloging her psychological vulnerabilities for future exploitation if necessary.
"Thanks," Yuki said quietly. "That... means a lot."
"Of course." Aveline reached back, squeezed Yuki's hand briefly, the gesture natural, sisterly. "We've got you."
Adrian's hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Because he'd seen this before. Watched Aveline build rapport with assets, witnesses, targets. Watched her become exactly what they needed her to be. And it always worked. Always.
The mask was perfect.
The person underneath didn't exist.
"You okay, Adrian?" Aveline asked, and her voice carried gentle concern. "You're quiet."
"Just focused on driving."
"Liar," she said with a teasing smile. "You're brooding. I can hear you brooding from here."
Yuki giggled. "Does he do that a lot?"
"Constantly. It's his thing." Aveline's tone was affectionate, the way partners talked about each other's quirks. "Brood, drive fancy cars, make bad coffee, save the world. In that order."
"My coffee's not that bad," Adrian protested.
"Adrian, your coffee could wake the dead. And not in a good way."
"It's efficient."
"It's a crime against humanity." Aveline looked back at Yuki, sharing the joke.
The personal story. Vulnerable, relatable, humanizing. Probably partially true, the best lies always are. But deployed strategically to build connection.
Adrian listened to this, watching Yuki relax completely, watching her laugh and engage and trust. Watching Aveline construct the perfect facade of humanity.
And he wondered, not for the first time, if there was anything real underneath.
Or if Aveline had become her performance so completely that even she couldn't tell the difference anymore.
Warehouses loomed on either side now, skeletal and dark.
"This doesn't look safe," Yuki said quietly.
Aveline turned, expression reassuring. "I know it looks rough. But that's actually why it's perfect. The bad guys expect us to take main roads, stay visible, follow protocol. We're being unpredictable. They can't find what they can't predict."
"That makes sense."
"Plus, Adrian drives like he's in a Formula One race. Anyone tries to follow us, they're eating dust." She said it with warm humor, making it sound like an adventure rather than a threat.
Reframing danger as tactical advantage. Making fear sound like smart planning. Keeping Yuki calm and compliant.
"You two work really well together," Yuki observed.
Aveline glanced at Adrian, and her smile was warm, genuine-looking, full of what appeared to be real affection. "Yeah. We do. He's a good partner. Even if his coffee is terrible."
"I heard that."
"You were meant to." She reached over, patted his arm fondly. "But seriously, Adrian's one of the good ones. You're in the best hands."
Building Adrian's value. Reinforcing Yuki's trust. Strengthening team cohesion. All while her mind probably runs tactical scenarios for seventeen different threat vectors.
Adrian met her eyes briefly. For just a microsecond, he thought he saw something flicker behind the warmth, something cold, calculating, reptilian.
Then it was gone, and she was just Aveline again. Warm, competent, trustworthy.
The perfect performance.
The viper wearing human skin so well you'd never know there were scales underneath.