Chapter 7: The Courier's Delivery
Rain lashed D.C.'s streets, tires screeching as Meera floored the SUV, the city a blur of neon and shadow. Peter gripped the dashboard, his body aching from Kinetic Echo's toll, the System mapping the Courier's escape route. The mission was to stop a package delivery tied to a Cabal project. Liz sat in the back, her Glock steady, her voice sharp with urgency. Surface goal: intercept the Courier. Emotional undertone: desperation. Long-term arc: build team trust.
"Left on 7th, now!"
Peter barked, the System's overlay glowing with traffic patterns.
"You sure, Wells?"
Meera's voice was crisp, her dark eyes flicking to him.
"Dead sure."
His tone was firm, pain pulsing in his temples.
The SUV swerved, dodging a truck, horns blaring. The System flagged a hazard.
"Slow down, Meera! Debris ahead!"
Peter pointed to a pile of rebar, his voice urgent.
She nodded, tires squealing as she veered right. Liz watched from the back, her mind racing. He's calling shots like he sees the future. How does he do it?
In a tense briefing earlier, Peter had analyzed the Courier's patterns, the System decrypting comms.
"We hit him at the overpass. It's his choke point."
Peter had said, his voice steady despite Ressler's glare.
"You're not running this op, rookie."
Ressler's tone was gruff, his arms crossed.
The chase intensified, the Courier's black sedan weaving through traffic. Peter's System tracked his moves, but Kinetic Echo's pain slowed him.
"There!"
Liz pointed, spotting the sedan darting into an alley. Meera followed, the SUV rattling over uneven pavement, trash cans toppling, the air thick with exhaust and damp brick.
Ressler, at a parallel intercept point, radioed in, his voice taut.
"Wells, you better be right."
"Always am."
Peter's reply was clipped, his focus razor-sharp.
The team cornered the Courier in a derelict lot, his sedan trapped against a chain-link fence. Peter leapt out, pain be damned, and barreled into the Courier as he drew a knife. The System guided him.
Peter twisted the man's arm, the knife clattering to the ground. Liz cuffed him, her voice steady.
"Nice move, Peter."
"Don't get used to it."
He grinned, wincing as pain flared.
In a muddy field later, Peter used the System to locate Seth Nelson, buried alive by the Courier. The team dug frantically, dirt caking their hands, Seth's weak coughs spurring them on.
At the Post Office, Reddington handed Liz forged documents, his voice a velvet purr.
"These will point you to the truth, Elizabeth."
Peter's System flagged the deception.
Meera watched Peter in the bullpen, her suspicion deepening. He knew the route too well. He's not clean.
In a quiet stairwell, Liz pulled Peter aside, her voice low.
"You saved Seth. You saved me. I'm starting to trust you, Peter."
"Don't bet the farm just yet."
He smiled, but the System's pain lingered, a warning of costs to come.
In a late-night diner (new event), Ressler joined Peter, his gruff voice softer.
"You're not half bad, Wells. But don't get cocky."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Peter's grin hid his unease, the System's warning echoing.
The Courier's defeat solidified Peter's role, but Reddington's forged documents and the Cabal's shadow hinted at a larger game. His trust in the team grew, but the pain in his body warned of a darkening path.
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