The night air in East London was thick with a damp chill as Kyle moved silently through the labyrinth of narrow streets and flickering neon signs.
He was clad in full black: black pants, a thick black jacket, and the hood pulled low over his head, obscuring his face from the sputtering streetlamps. His boots ate up the distance, taking him further toward the coordinates Dax had provided him last night.
As he walked, his mind replayed the day's earlier moments with Karen; the surreal image of her living like a queen, surrounded by sudden luxury and access to millions. It gnawed at him, a persistent whisper of suspicion.
How could the syndicate afford such generosity? Was it a trap? Or something more sinister?
Kyle exhaled slowly. "Nah, I'm overthinking this," he argued with himself, kicking a crushed can down the street. Karen had looked happy, genuinely relaxed for the first time in years. He had to assume the best, for now. All that mattered was executing the job, securing the funds, and getting her out of that luxurious trap before it snapped shut.
As he pulled into a deserted area, the digital map on his wrist flickered green, signaling his arrival at the location. He stopped before a massive, derelict storage facility, its corrugated steel walls rusting into the encroaching smog. This was a classic meet-up location: the kind of place that was perfect for criminals who wanted to look like nothing special.
Kyle's footsteps echoed softly as he pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the cavernous interior, the scent of oil, sweat, and smoke filling his nose as he did.
Inside, three figures sat around a battered metal table: a man and two women. And as Kyle closed the door, the heavy clang echoing through the concrete chamber, all eyes turned immediately to him.
The man, burly with spiky green hair and gold cybernetic left arm, looked up sharply. "You lost, kid?" he sneered with an intimidating tone. "Arcade's three blocks west."
Kyle didn't flinch or slow his stride. He stopped just inside the threshold. "I'm here to see Dax. He gave me this address."
The man raised a brow, the sneer deepening. He stood up slowly, the joints in his cybernetic arm articulating with a soft whir, and walked toward Kyle, his expression instantly darkening into a something dangerous.
"And who are you supposed to be?" he asked, the words clipped and dangerous.
"I'm the driver," Kyle replied calmly.
The man blinked, a moment of genuine surprise breaking his hostility. Then he frowned, inspecting Kyle from his hood down to his boots.
"Dax gotta be kidding me. This is the driver he booked for the job? A kid?" he scoffed. "What happened to getting the best driver in London? The person we asked for?" he said, looking at Kyle in outright disdain, but Kyle returned the stare intently, not uttering a single word.
Before the man could escalate, one of the women chuckled. She was early thirties, with purple hair styled in intricate knots. She was leaning back in a chair, exhaling a cloud of sweet vapor from a vape pen.
"Gunna, let the kid be," she suggested, her voice light and playful. "Dax wouldn't have hired him if he wasn't good."
Gunna only scoffed harder. "Dax was probably drunk when he hired this lad. Look at him, he's barely even twenty." He glared at Kyle again, who remained silent, waiting.
"Maybe Dax had his reasons," the second woman contributed, her voice low and utterly devoid of inflection. She was younger, with pure silver hair that contrasted sharply with her stoic expression. Her left eye was a gleaming, cybernetic sphere… a full replacement of the eye, not a lens like Kyle's. She hadn't looked up from the data tab in her hands since Kyle entered, and she didn't bother to look up now.
Gunna threw his flesh hand up in frustration. "What reason? Why hire a kid for a job this important?" he muttered in frustration.
"Because he's the best driver out there." A voice responded from the shadows behind them, carrying the precise, educated pitch of clean RP English.
They all turned. A muscular man with ink black hair and a neatly trimmed stubble emerged from the deeper gloom of the warehouse. This was Dax.
Gunna frowned. "Dax, what is the meaning of this? I asked for the best driver in London," he snapped.
Dax chuckled. "But that is the best driver in London,"
Gunna paused, his eyes wide with confusion. He looked at Kyle, then back to Dax, scoffing. "Are you saying that this kid is…"
"Yes," Dax finished, walking forward with a confident smirk. "I am." He swept past Gunna and stopped directly beside Kyle, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"Everyone, meet Ghost. The legendary phantom driver," he declared.
Gunna's jaw dropped, the ingrained rudeness instantly replaced by sheer, dumbstruck reverence. He stared at Kyle, then back at Dax, then back at Kyle.
"How… how can this kid be Ghost? He's too young." Gunna muttered the words in disbelief.
The purple-haired woman puffed out another cloud of vapor, her eyes wide with amusement. "Wow, I thought Ghost would be more of a muscular old man like you, Dax," she chuckled.
Even the stoic silver-haired woman looked up, glancing at Kyle with interest.
Dax chuckled. "Being a kid or not doesn't matter. What matters is the skill. He's Ghost. And that's that. Now, let's get down to business," he said firmly, and everyone immediately straightened. He was obviously the leader of the gang.
He walked towards the table with Kyle, Gunna following behind. Then he introduced the women.
"Ghost, this is Vi," he gestured to the purple-haired woman, who offered a small, knowing smile.
"And this is Enid," he added, nodding to the silver-haired one who gave a barely perceptible nod, before returning her full attention to her tab.
Dax pointed toward a holographic map projector resting on the table, which immediately sprung to life, showing a detailed schematic of a tightly secured corporate facility north of the Thames.
"The score is simple," he began, his tone sharpening. "We're hitting OmniCorp's private storage warehouse. We're after the merc being brought in tonight," he stated. "It's a private corporate facility, so they'll have their own heavily armed security forces, and the Metropolitan Police will be on standby as immediate response. We should expect heavy chase, matrix support, and probably drone coverage within two minutes of the alarm."
Kyle didn't ask what the "merc" was. It wasn't his job to know. His own part was to drive everyone to safety after the heist.
Dax traced two distinct routes on the holographic map. "We run a split operation. Vi and Enid will take the diversion vehicle and draw half the pursuers away. Gunna, Ghost, and I will be in the main vehicle."
Vi tapped her vape pen against the table. "Where do we go, and how do we ditch the coppers?" she asked.
Dax grinned. "That's the fun part," he said. "Phase One: You two head east, then cut south immediately to Westminster. You'll switch to the second car already waiting there. Enid will then remotely pilot the first vehicle… loaded with enough electronics to mimic human signatures, and take it on a high-speed joyride into the financial district, creating the ultimate decoy."
Vi smirked. "Alright, that does sound fun," she said excitedly. "And it's been long since I've driven a proper chase."
Enid spoke, finally lifting her gaze from the tab. "What about you guys? Where would you go?" she asked.
"We drive straight out of town," Dax said. "We'll head toward the Kensington maze and lose the cops in the old highway tunnels and orbital traffic loops there. After Vi and Enid are off the police tails and the diversion is set, they head back here and wait for us."
Vi raised a brow. "But wait… Central London has traffic, sensors, and SCR overlap. What if the cops figure out what you're planning? They could funnel the checkpoints and block the main routes. How are you going to get out before they box you in?" she asked, her tone serious.
"We have contingency lanes," Dax replied. "Bridges that can be lowered, service ramps accessible from the south… Gunna and I can clear the way while Ghost exploits the narrow line."
Enid tilted her head with a calculating gaze. "Okay, but getting out of Central London districts into the northern orbital takes time. How will you manage to get out of the city center before the response team shoots the vehicle down?" she asked.
Dax exhaled slowly, turning to Kyle with an expectant look. "That, Enid, is why we have him," he smirked. "Let's hope he's as exceptional as the legend claims."
Kyle gave a single nod. "I'll do my best."
Gunna, still regarding Kyle with a strange mix of awe and anxiety, chimed in gruffly. "You better. If not, we're goners."
Kyle ignored him, turning back to Dax. He had one critical question, the one thing that truly mattered to a professional driver before a high-stakes run.
"I'll like to see the getaway vehicle before we move," he said calmly. "I need to make sure the chassis is rated for the predicted kinetic stress and that the routing matrix is clean."
The request made everyone look at him instantly.
Gunna and Vi raise their eyebrows. Even the indifferent Enid glanced up slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her features.
Dax let out a soft, amused chuckle. "Oh, right. I haven't given you the full details," he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"The merc…" he said, a slow smile spreading across his face, "…is the getaway vehicle."