The hours bled away, and the sun began its slow descent, painting the Canadian skyline in deep shades of orange and violet.
Down in the basement, Allen geared up. He checked his equipment, pulled on a dark jacket, and walked upstairs, heading out across the neighborhood toward Ethan's residence. Just as he reached the front porch, the front door swung open—Ethan was already stepping outside, his hand raised as if he were about to ring the bell.
"Oh! You're right on time," Allen noted.
Ethan offered a sharp nod. "Let's move."
The two of them walked swiftly through the cooling twilight, arriving at the perimeter of an abandoned gym on the outskirts of the district. Right on cue, a sleek, heavily tinted black sedan pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down just a fraction.
"Liam?" Ethan asked, his eyes scanning the vehicle.
The driver nodded, the locks clicking open.
Allen and Ethan slipped into the vehicle, and the sedan instantly accelerated, leaving the civilian residential zones far behind. The car traveled in complete silence, eventually pulling up to the heavily fortified gates of Military Base AE7. The perimeter was entirely locked down, wrapped in thick coils of razor wire and high-voltage fencing that kept the operations inside completely hidden from the public eye.
The car passed through the security checkpoints, eventually stopping near a massive, roaring hangar bay. The deafening, mechanical whine of tactical transport helicopters cutting through the air filled the night.
A lone figure stepped out from the deep shadows of the hangar. It was Liam, dressed in full tactical gear. He didn't waste a single second on useless pleasantries. With a fluid motion, he flipped two high-end, encrypted comm-links through the air. Ethan and Allen caught them effortlessly.
"Follow me," Liam's voice crackled instantly through their earpieces. The roar of the idling choppers was so intense that communicating with a normal voice was entirely impossible.
Turning on his heel, Liam led the way, and the three operatives marched deep into the heart of Military Base AE7.
The heavy iron door hissed shut behind them, sealing away the deafening roar of the helicopter blades. As they descended a massive concrete staircase leading deep into the subterranean levels of Base AE7, Allen's eyes darted around the structure.
Ethan actually has high-level military connections? Allen thought, his mind racing as he kept pace behind Ethan and Liam.
When they finally reached the bottom floor, the sheer scale of the facility became apparent. The underground complex was a sprawling tactical hub. Heavy-duty armored vehicles were parked in neat rows, squads of disciplined soldiers moved in formation, and wooden ammunition crates were stacked high against the reinforced walls.
Allen glanced at Ethan. He was walking with his hands in his pockets, his posture completely relaxed, as if strolling through a military black site was just a regular Tuesday for him.
Liam led them into a secure briefing lounge, gesturing toward a set of leather sofas. "Have a seat."
Ethan slid onto the couch, with Allen sitting right beside him. Liam pulled up opposite them, leaning forward as he let out a long, heavy breath.
"Alright, let's get straight to it," Liam began, his expression turning grim. "The Loop's Third Branch is partially operating within the Capital."
Ethan's brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean by partially?"
"I mean they're using Ottawa as a front," Liam explained, tapping his fingers against his knee. "It's a massive cash cow for them. But their actual headquarters? Their main base? I haven't been able to locate the coordinates for that yet."
Ethan and Allen nodded, absorbing the intel.
"Okay," Ethan said, his grey eyes locking onto Liam. "Then tell us about this front in the Capital. What are we dealing with?"
"It's an underground motorcycle circuit. High-stakes, legal street racing," Liam revealed.
Allen blinked, a bit surprised. "But street racing is just a standard underground hustle. It doesn't match the Loop's usual profile."
Ethan nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's too low-level for fish of their scale."
"It isn't as simple as it looks on the surface," Liam countered, his voice dropping into a low, serious register. "The trap lies in the entry paperwork. Before you're allowed to touch the asphalt, every racer is forced to sign a highly specific contract. And that contract is where the nightmare begins."
Ethan and Allen leaned in closer, their expressions hardening.
"The contract states that the Loop will provide the racer with a high-performance bike and a designated living quarter," Liam explained. "But there's a catch. If a racer loses, loser would repay everything as debt. If they can't pay, then they are forced to work it off by performing 'shady operations' for the Third Branch."
Ethan's eyes widened slightly as the pieces clicked together. Allen sat in absolute shock.
"That's how they harvest their manpower," Ethan murmured, his mind instantly mapping out the human trafficking and forced labor pipeline.
"Exactly," Liam nodded. "That's the true engine of the Third Branch. But the real problem is that once these losing racers are drafted into the syndicate's service, they vanish. I don't know where the holding facility or their main hideout is located."
Liam looked back and forth between the two boys, crossing his arms. "So, what's the play? How do you want to handle this?"