The afternoon sun beat down on the quiet Austin suburb, but the atmosphere around a non-descript two-story house was ice-cold. Leander stood on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets, while Melinda May moved with the silent, predatory grace of a hunter.
"Leander, stay back," May whispered, her voice low and sharp. "If you try to track her directly, you're going to blow our cover. She might not be a trained field agent, but she knows how to look for a tail."
Leander didn't slow down. "We can just hang back a block, Agent May. He won't see us."
"And we'll lose the target," May countered, her eyes scanning the street. "Skye doesn't understand tactical pursuit, but Miles Lydon does. He's spent his life avoiding the NSA. If we lose visual now, the mission is a bust."
She turned to look at Leander, ready to order him to stay put, but she stopped mid-sentence. The golden light in Leander's eyes wasn't just a shimmer anymore; it was a constant, flickering radiance. He wasn't looking at the street; he was looking through it.
May's expression shifted from irritation to a strange, uneasy realization. She stepped closer to him, following his line of sight toward the end of the street where Skye had vanished minutes ago. "Can you... can you still see her?"
"Clear as day," Leander said, his voice calm. "Follow me. Keep your pace steady, no need to run. We're just two tourists looking for a BBQ joint."
Leander moved with an eerie certainty, navigating side paths and narrow alleys without a moment's hesitation. May walked silently beside him, her face a mask of professional neutrality, but her mind was racing. She had seen "gifted" individuals before, but Leander Hayes operated on a level that made the term feel inadequate.
While they walked, the comms crackled with static and frustration.
"I've got him," Coulson's voice came through, strained. "Lydon is in a silver Jetta. I'm two cars back."
A few seconds later, the sound of screeching tires echoed over the radio. "He just tripped the grid," Coulson reported, his tone uncharacteristically sullen. "Traffic Congestion Protocol. He's hacked the lights at the intersection of 4th and Main. I'm boxed in by a bus and a semi. I lost him."
May glanced at Leander, her brow furrowing. If Coulson had lost the car, and they were just wandering through suburbs, the entire operation was falling apart.
"Don't worry about it, Phil's doing his best," Leander chuckled softly, noticing May's tightening jaw. "Everything's fine. Trust me."
After another ten minutes of winding through the residential streets, Leander stopped in front of a modest house with a silver-white Jetta parked haphazardly in the driveway.
"We found her," Leander said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Skye's inside. She was waiting for him. And judging by the mess of tech and empty pizza boxes I'm seeing through the wall, this is definitely Lydon's safe house."
May's eyes turned cold. The suspicion that had been brewing since the Airbus was now a solidified fact. "Skye really did it," she muttered. "She sold us out."
"I want to see exactly what her endgame is," May added, her voice dropping into that dangerous, 'Cavalry' register. She started toward the front door with long, purposeful strides.
Inside the house, Miles Lydon was a nervous wreck. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it, his chest heaving. He'd just outrun a vintage Corvette driven by a man who looked like a tax auditor but drove like a getaway driver.
"Are you sure you shook them?" a voice asked from the shadows of the living room.
Miles jumped, his heart nearly stopping, until he saw Skye standing there with her arms crossed. "God, Skye! You scared the hell out of me. Yeah, I got them. The traffic light trick worked, but that cop was persistent. Thanks for the heads-up."
He walked toward her, trying to regain his swagger. "Wait... are you actually inside the system now? You're working with the suits?"
Skye didn't move. Her gaze was level and icy. "I don't have time for this, Miles. Who did you sell those files to? The ones you skimmed from the Hong Kong bureau?"
"Whoa, slow down," Miles said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "It's good to see you too, Skye. I didn't 'sell' anything. I made the information public. Information wants to be free, remember? That's what we do."
"You shouldn't have done it while I was on the inside, you idiot!" Skye hissed, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "You have no idea what you've put in motion. You're going to mess everything up."
Miles smiled, a smug, self-satisfied look that clearly used to work on her. "It looks like you're handling the situation just fine. You're embedded. You're a mole. This is huge."
"I'm not a mole, Miles! I'm trying to actually fix things, and you're out here playing games. Why are you looking at me like that?"
Miles stepped closer, his voice dropping to a smooth, intimate murmur. "Did you just call me stupid?"
"I'm being serious, Miles! A man is missing. A real person."
"I taught you everything you know, Skye," Miles whispered, his eyes wandering over her face. "If I'm stupid, what does that make you?"
"It makes me a fool for trusting you," Skye snapped, but the conviction in her voice was wavering.
"I missed you," Miles said softly. "I'm sorry I messed up your op, but I really missed you."
The tension in the room shifted. The anger didn't vanish, but it was suddenly joined by a wave of old, familiar longing. They stepped into each other's space, the argument forgotten as they collided in a desperate, frantic kiss.
Outside the bedroom door, Leander winced. He had been relaying the dialogue to May in real-time, but now the sounds coming through the walls were... different.
"Uh, they've moved past the talking phase," Leander whispered to May, pursing his lips. "They're kissing. A lot. It's getting a bit much."
He paused, his golden eyes widening slightly as he 'watched' the thermal signatures through the wall. "Wow. Okay. Clothes are coming off. They are really going for it."
Leander reached for the doorknob, intending to end the awkwardness, but May's hand shot out and gripped his wrist. "Don't alarm them yet," she said, her face completely expressionless. "We need more than just a hook-up. We need the buyer's name."
Leander watched the two heat signatures move toward the bed. He felt a surge of annoyance—Chen Haoran was currently being poked with needles somewhere because of this guy's ego. He flicked his fingers toward the room.
Bang.
A heavy metal lamp on the bedside table flew off and hit the floor with a resounding crash.
Inside, Skye gasped, pushing Miles back. "Wait! We can't do this. They're still out there! Ward, Coulson... they're looking for you!"
"It's fine, Skye," Miles panted, pulling her back down. "I've got the scanners on. No one's near the house. It'll be over quickly, I promise."
"They're heading into the bedroom," Leander reported, looking at May.
May didn't hesitate this time. She reached into her gear and pulled out two thin metal wires, kneeling by the lock. "Inform Coulson. Send the coordinates."
Leander didn't wait for her to pick the lock. He snapped his fingers, and the internal mechanism of the door simply rotated. Click.
May's eyes flickered to Leander's hand, then she stood up and pushed the door open, her footsteps silent on the carpet. She pressed herself against the bedroom door, listening.
Inside, the mood had cooled slightly. Skye was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only her bra, looking conflicted.
"I'm still checking the buyer's trail," Skye said, her voice shaky as she pushed Miles's hands away. "But it's harder now. You've alerted everyone. Where's my shirt?"
"I can help you, Skye," Miles said, trying to pull her back. "Send me the encrypted text. I'll run the algorithm. We can do this together, like old times."
"No," Skye said, standing up and looking for her clothes. "I can't contact you. I shouldn't be here. There's a team of agents and a senior advisor out there who could ruin my life if they find me here. A man's life is on the line, Miles. I need to go."
"You're just going to leave?" Miles asked, sounding wounded. "Come on, Skye. It'll be over quickly!"
Outside in the living room, Leander spotted Skye's short-sleeved T-shirt draped over the back of the sofa.