HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION

"Shit."

"What do you mean, 'shit'?" a voice hissed from a slit of darkness to her left.

Kyoline's head snapped toward the alley. Her pulse thudded in her ears. She clutched the backpack strap and took a step back. "Who's there?"

"Don't turn around like prey," the voice said. Low, calm. "Just walk in here, slow."

Her instincts screamed no, but the street behind her was too open, too lit. She edged toward the shadows, her eyes adjusting.

A tall figure in a hooded coat waited against the brick. The hood cast their face in shadow, but the shape of their mouth was visible when they spoke - sharp, deliberate, like every word was weighed before release.

"You're at the right place," they said. "But the party's been canceled."

She gripped the strap harder. The gun inside the bag seemed to drag her down. "Canceled? What are you talking about? I've got a delivery."

"Yeah, and so did that kid they just cuffed two blocks over."

Her stomach tightened. "You... you saw that?"

"I see everything," the figure said. The faint scent of tobacco drifted from them, mixed with something metallic. "And what I see is a girl about to walk right into a trap."

A patrol car rolled past the alley mouth, its headlights cutting across her face. She flinched, pressing against the wall until it passed.

"A trap?" she whispered. "But Tenz-"

"Tenz," the figure scoffed, the sound dry. "He's been looking for a fall guy for months. Too much heat on him, so he feeds you to the cops. They bust you, he's clean."

Kyoline's mind stuttered through the past hour - the phone call from Tenz, the promise of quick cash, the cruiser idling at the corner when she arrived. All coincidence until now.

Her chest hurt. "He told me it was a simple run. That I'd get a cut."

"Simple for him," the figure said. "You take the fall, he scares the rest into line. He gets loyalty without having to pay for it."

Her hand shook against the strap. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're useful. And because I don't like watching talent get burned for free."

Another beam of light swept the alley - this time a flashlight. Someone called out from the street, the sound of boots crunching pavement.

"Move," the figure said. They took her arm, firm but not rough, guiding her deeper into the alley where the shadows thickened. "Keep your head down."

They stopped behind a dumpster, close enough for her to feel the warmth of their body. She could hear the faint, even sound of their breathing, unbothered by the search just feet away.

Bootsteps neared, paused, then retreated. The patrol car rolled off.

Only then did they speak again. "What's in the bag isn't just a gun."

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"There's a chip inside it. Tenz has been planting them in his couriers' drops for months. Tracks every move you make. Then he sells that data to anyone who pays enough - rivals, cops, doesn't matter."

She stared at them. The smell of tobacco clung to their coat. "So the others-"

"Were never unlucky," they said. "They were tagged."

Her fear shifted to anger, a hot coil in her stomach. "So what? I toss it and run?"

"No. We use it."

She shook her head. "You want me to keep the chip that's been tracking me?"

"Not exactly. We take it out. We leave the gun where he can find it on his tracker. He'll think you ditched it and got away clean. Meanwhile, you're working for me."

She hesitated. "Working doing what?"

"Taking back everything he's stolen. Shipments. Clients. Trust. You move in the dark, and Tenz never sees you coming."

The cold night pressed against her skin. "I don't even know who you are."

"You will," they said. A small shift of the hood let her glimpse part of their face - a pale line of scar along their jaw, eyes like cold glass that missed nothing.

"And what if you're just another Tenz?" she asked.

A short silence. Then, "Then you walk away tonight and take your chances. But you know as well as I do, walking away doesn't make you invisible. Tenz will still see you. And once you're marked as a problem..." They let the words trail.

Her throat felt tight. "I have family."

"I know," they said quietly. "They stay safe if you stay with me."

"And if I don't?"

The figure didn't answer.

The silence was louder than any threat.

She looked toward the street. A second patrol car crept past. The trap was closing.

Her grip on the strap eased, the weight of the decision settling heavier than the gun.

"What's the first move?" she asked, her voice thin.

"We get the chip out and disappear for a while. You'll need a new phone. New name."

"And after that?"

"You go back to Tenz. Tell him the deal went bad, but you walked out clean. He'll believe you. Then we start bleeding him."

The idea of facing Tenz again twisted her stomach, but there was steel under the fear now. "I want him to know it's me when it all comes down."

The figure's mouth curved in a small, dangerous smile. "He will."

They started walking, guiding her through the back alleys. She noticed the way they checked every corner before stepping out, the way they never let their back stay exposed.

"Why me?" she asked as they moved.

"You're fast. Careful. And I've seen you keep your mouth shut when it mattered. That's rare."

She almost asked how they'd seen her before, but stopped. Some answers were better saved for later.

They reached an unmarked door and slipped inside. The air smelled of oil and dust. A single lamp lit the space - a table, a chair, and a small case the figure set down.

"Put the bag here."

She did. They unzipped it, took out the gun, and with practiced hands, began to dismantle it. A tiny chip slid free, glinting under the lamp.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's enough to ruin him if we play it right," they said. They placed the chip in a small metal box. "This will feed us everything he's doing, everywhere he sends his people. And you'll be in the perfect position to hurt him."

She stared at the weapon, now just cold pieces on the table. "Feels too easy."

"It won't be. He'll fight back. And when he does, you'll be ready."

Something in their tone made her believe it.

They closed the box, pocketed it, then tossed her a small envelope.

"What's this?"

"Rent money. Enough for a month. Consider it your sign-on bonus."

She opened it, the sight of real cash making her throat tighten. "Why?"

"I told you. Investment."

For the first time that night, she felt something cut through the fear. Purpose.

She nodded slowly. "Alright. I'm in."

The figure's smile was small, but there was satisfaction in it. "Then let's get to work."