The building looked like a bunker pretending to be an office. Concrete walls, barbed wire fencing, and just enough floodlights to make you feel like you were being interrogated by the sun. The place gave off serious we're-hiding-something energy.
I crouched behind a cracked loading ramp, trying to keep my breathing steady. My suit's panel was already lit up, the drone humming softly against my back like a coiled wasp ready to sting.
"Eyes on target," I whispered. "Drone is prepped. Payload secure."
Bella's voice came through my earpiece, calm as ever. "On my mark."
She was already moving, a blur in the dark. No hesitation. No wasted movement. She slid out of the shadows and sprinted toward the outer fence like she was born in an obstacle course. One leap and she was up and over — no wire touched, no sound made.
My palms were slick with sweat.
"Mark."
I tapped the panel. The drone deployed instantly — rotors whirring to life as it slipped free from its housing like a razor-edged moth. It hovered in place for half a second, sensors blinking, then shot forward low to the ground, clutching the flash drive beneath it like a fragile egg.
It was carrying everything — the mission, the data, the proof we needed. All packed into a black chip the size of a paperclip.
And me? I was the one flying it.
No pressure.
The drone zipped past the fence, hugging the terrain. From my monitor, I watched its camera feed — grainy, green-tinted, and jumpy as hell. I toggled to thermal overlay just in time to spot a guard stepping out of a nearby checkpoint.
"Bella — guard incoming, east side!"
"I see him," she answered, already moving.
She ducked low, grabbed him from behind, and dragged him into the shadows before he had a chance to yawn, let alone call for backup. The guy hit the dirt like a dropped sack of flour.
Meanwhile, the drone had reached the main structure. No entry points. No windows. Just the ventilation system — a narrow shaft running along the roof.
"Override grate," I muttered, fingers flying across the embedded keyboard on my forearm.
A soft click in my earpiece confirmed it worked. The drone adjusted altitude and climbed, angling for the vent.
I held my breath as it squeezed in — rotors folding tighter, barely skimming the metal edges.
"Inside," I confirmed. "Navigating ductwork now."
The screen jolted with every turn. Dust, rust, condensation. It was like piloting a wasp through a sewer pipe. But the AI handled most of it. I just told it where to go.
Then — light.
The server room opened up below. Massive cooling towers. Blue lighting. Thick cables running along the floor like black vines. This was the heart of the system. The place where secrets lived.
"Dropping payload," I said.
The drone hovered above the main terminal. Its claw opened and let the flash drive fall — a tiny, perfect drop. It landed right in the port.
And then it began.
The red light blinked once… twice… then turned green.
"Upload initiated."
Everything was going smoothly.
Naturally, that's when it all went sideways.
"Marx," Bella's voice snapped through my earpiece, sharp and fast. "We've got company."
I switched the drone's external cam to rear view. Two black SUVs had pulled up at the back entrance. Windows tinted. No lights. Four guys jumped out — all carrying the kind of weapons that don't come with a safety switch.
"Private security," I muttered. "Definitely not rent-a-cops."
One of them had something worse than a gun — a jammer rifle. Sleek, high-tech, and aimed straight at my drone's last known position.
"Bella — jammer's moving in."
"I've got him."
She moved before I could stop her. I watched from the drone's camera as she rolled out from cover, sprinted across open ground, and hurled a baton like a pro baseball pitcher. It nailed the guy in the side of the helmet — hard enough to drop him cold.
The drone's feed wobbled, then stabilized. Just in time.
"Upload at seventy percent," I said, my fingers tightening on the keyboard. "Almost there."
Gunfire erupted outside. Real, sharp, too close.
"Bella?!"
"I'm fine!" she shouted back. "Buy me thirty seconds!"
I didn't think. I launched a decoy signal from the drone — a fake ping that appeared fifty feet away from its actual location. Two of the guards peeled off, chasing a ghost.
"Upload complete," I breathed. "Drive's in. Systems breached."
The flash drive ejected automatically. The drone caught it mid-air, claws snapping shut.
"I'm initiating burn protocol."
Bella was already moving toward the perimeter. "Get it done."
One command. One tap.
The drone's AI flared blue.
Then came the fire.
A silent whump echoed through the server room. Not big. Just enough to fry the electronics and turn the walls into toast. The camera feed went dark. Static.
"Drone's gone," I said. "Data's ours. You're clear."
Bella didn't reply right away. Then: "Nice work, nerd."