What could have Assad done at the moment? Two options were on the table but very difficult to decide on.
Should he have stayed, maybe attempted to calm her down and get her out alive or leave the cases behind and out of nowhere Mischa would arrive and take them.
Save her… or save what's left of the mission.
"Just go!Take whatever you want and leave me alone!" she yelled, clutching the briefcase even tighter.
He stared at her for a moment longer, caught between guilt and instinct then let out a slow breath, glancing toward the flickering neon lights beyond the alley. The city was eerily silent, holding its breath.
"…Fine but if you stay here, you'll die too."he finally said, his voice low.
He walked past her, stepping over the puddle and the ashes that had once been her sister. Assad stood there for a moment, the briefcases feeling heavy and burdensome at his side. The alley was thick with the scent of smoke and iron, while the city beyond pulsed with neon lights and distant sirens.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from the curled-up figure of the surviving guard, her quiet sobs barely audible over the noise of the street.
Then, something inside him broke.
"Damn it." He let the briefcases drop, ignoring the way the puddle rippled like a held breath, and lunged forward.
He seized her wrist with a grip so tight it made her gasp. "Get up. Now."
She recoiled, her eyes wide with suspicion, but he didn't give her a chance to refuse.
"I'll pay for my sins whether you like it or not." His voice was raw, a mix of a promise and a threat.
For a heartbeat, it looked like she might push him away, maybe even scream at him to get lost. But something in her shock, the instinct to survive, a flicker of hope drove her to scramble to her feet. Assad hoisted the briefcases as they burst into the street, their boots slapping against the wet concrete, steam and ash trailing behind them.
The city swallowed the alley whole; neon signs flickered wildly above, and a delivery drone zipped by like a careless moth.
"
"Who are you taking me to?"the guard panted, clutching her arm where the skin had blistered.
Assad kept pushing forward, dodging a vendor's cart and an old man who muttered about the gods.
"Listen, I need to finish this job first then I'll make it right. Just run. Don't stop until I say so."he said between breaths,
Her expression twisted confusion, fear, and a fragile glimmer of trust. "Why should I believe—?"
"Because I said so." It didn't sound like a promise; it was more of a command. It sliced through the chaos, and for reasons she couldn't quite grasp, she followed his lead.
They navigated through alleyways, each one narrower and darker than the last, until the city's neon glow and clamor faded into an industrial corridor.
They sprinted until their lungs felt like they were on fire and their legs threatened to buckle beneath them. The city around them buzzed with life flickering neon lights, the low hum of engines, and a cold drizzle that made everything slick underfoot.
Finally, Assad caught sight of a dimly lit corner shop tucked away from the chaos.
"Here," he whispered.
The guard hesitated, glancing back at the empty street, but eventually followed him inside. The shop was barely hanging on, with shelves leaning precariously and a faint odor of oil mixed with stale food alone.
The clerk dozed behind the counter, headphones on, completely unaware of their presence.
Assad signaled for silence and crouched down behind a row of shelves. The guard settled next to him, gripping her burned arm, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.
Assad tapped his wristwatch. The small device flickered with static before projecting a faint, blue-tinted hologram. Taura's image appeared distorted but still recognizable, her sharp eyes scanning the feed as if she were already anticipating trouble.
"Assad?" Her voice crackled through the static.
He let out a breath, trying to steady himself. "Where are you? What happened to the maid?"
Taura's gaze darted to the side for a moment, as if she were checking her surroundings. "I'm on my way. But… the maid—"
Assad leaned in closer to the flickering screen. "What about her?"
"She vanished."
A smirk crept onto his face, relief washing over him. "Good. Guess she took off when things got dicey."
Taura didn't share his amusement. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, almost lost in the static.
"No, Assad. She vanished as in, gone and I think she's after those briefcases."
The smile faded instantly. Assad's fingers tightened around the watch; the faint blue light flickered across his eyes as the words sank in like a knife against his thoughts.
"After the briefcases?" he echoed slowly.
Taura nodded. "Yeah. It seems like the drugs in one of those cases are high value."
Assad understood but kept quiet.
"Okay I'll see you back at the agency then or are you coming to my location." Assad asked.
"We'll just have to see."