They laid Gideon on a stack of cardboard,an improvised bed.
He winced but settled down, breathing heavily.
Flash tore off his soaked coat and pulled a small, battered army first-aid kit from an inner pocket, red cross on the lid.
He opened it quickly: antiseptic spray, bandages, adrenaline ampoules, painkillers, scissors.
"Bruno, block the door. Barricade it with crates, but leave a slit for observation."
"Ethan, turn on the light,but only red.
Don't shine it toward the windows."
Ethan switched his phone flashlight to red mode,dim, invisible from outside. The light fell on Gideon's face: sweat, pain, but his eyes were already clearer, focusing on Flash.
"Leave me…" he repeated, weaker now. "I'm serious… Run… to the Blind Man… Without me… you'll be faster…"
"No," Bruno said, shoving a crate against the door. His voice rumbled like distant thunder.
"You're not some lone hero. We're a team."
Ethan stood nearby, feeling everything inside him knot into a tight ball.
"Sorry…" he whispered, unable to hold it back.
His voice cracked.
Flash looked up.
"No, it's not your fault. Hold the kit…"
He jabbed the adrenaline into Gideon's thigh the needle went in sharply, the ampoule emptied. Gideon jerked, sucked in a sharp breath; his eyes cleared.
"Aaah…" he exhaled.
"Better… But it burns…"
Flash started treating the burns with spray, then applied bandages without constricting too tightly.
"Plan B," Flash said without pausing his work.
"I've got a decoy beacon in my pocket,same chip type as Maria's pendant, but with spoofed ID and looped signal. It'll lead straight to the opposite end of the city, to that abandoned train station by the old bridge."
"I activate it in five minutes. They'll bite on the heat trail and these coordinates,we'll get a head start."
Bruno, by the door, nodded, listening to the rain.
"How much head start? And the drones are they still circling?"
"Twenty minutes, maybe thirty. Enough to drop back into the sewers.
Down there, under the old collector on 5th Street, there's a dry compartment an abandoned wartime bunker.
We can hunker down, finish reading the chip. The drones will go blind from interference in that area; the old cables create electromagnetic noise right around 2.4 GHz."
Gideon tried to sit up, winced, hissed in pain, but stubbornly propped himself on one elbow.
"I… can walk… Just… help me stand… Don't carry me like a sack…"
"Lie still," Flash said.
"Five more minutes and we'll take you with us.
You don't weigh a ton."
Ethan stared at him at the blood, the burns, at Gideon's trembling fingers trying to clench into a fist.
"This is because of me…" he started again, unable to stay silent.
"If I hadn't gotten into this, if I hadn't accepted your help…"
"Enough," Flash cut in quietly but hard, tying off the last bandage.
"Stop blaming yourself and acting like a piece of shit. We go all the way end of story. I'm helping you because I have the same goal as Gideon and Bruno…"
Flash simply poked a finger into Ethan's chest.
Silence thickened inside the warehouse, only rain drumming on the roof and a steady drip somewhere in the corner, rhythmic like a clock.
Bullet sat by the door, ears erect, sniffing the air.
Outside came a new sound,not drones. Confident male footsteps walking through puddles, unhurried; the splashing was barely audible.
They stopped at the warehouse entrance, a few meters from their hiding place.
A man's voice,low, calm, with a faint accent like something out of old spy movies.
"Yeah, lost them at the river. Beacon signal's jumping, but the main stream is heading east…"
"No, didn't see faces. Four… plus something that looks like a rat."
"Was there a woman among them? No, all male judging by silhouettes and gait…"
"Wait."
Pause.
Footsteps drew closer to the door—but didn't enter. The man stood in the doorway, silhouette faintly backlit by a dim streetlamp.
Tall, long coat, hood pulled low, hiding his face. Phone in hand, screen glowing weakly.
"Maybe just random vagrants. But they had the pendant."
"I smell old, old blood… metal… sweat…"
"Like that woman's."
"Understood. Heading to the station.
"If it's an ambush, I'll report. Yes,Corvin will be pleased if we take them alive."
He turned and walked away. Footsteps receded, dissolved into the rain noise as if he had never been there.
Inside the warehouse everyone froze. Bullet gave a soft growl, but Flash raised a hand, silence command.
Flash exhaled slowly once the steps were gone.
"Corvin's mercenary…"
"Vampire hunter, apparently. Didn't smell the rain washed the trails, and red light is invisible."
"But that nose of his. We have less time than I thought."
"He's following the false trail, but if he comes back…"
He activated the decoy beacon. A tiny beep in his pocket, like an alarm. The spoofed coordinates flooded the ether, broadcasting across every station in New York.
"Five minutes are up. We can move. Gideon—climb on Bruno."
"Ethan, cover the rear with Bullet. We move quiet, zigzag to the sewer entrance."
"Two blocks away, behind the old fountain."
Ethan nodded.
His throat tightened with fear and guilt, but his voice came out steadier than ever.
"I'm ready. I'll do everything I can."
They waited one more heartbeat in the dark, under the next wave of downpour, wounded man in their arms. Somewhere out there in the night, the enemy was already chasing a ghost trail.
But they knew, this was only a delay.
The real hunt was just beginning.
They lifted Gideon; he stood, leaning heavily on Bruno, face pale as a condemned man's.
They moved toward the exit, ferret in front. Rain intensified, masking their steps. They slipped into the alley toward the sewer, toward temporary shelter, toward the data still waiting on the chip.