The girls safely arrived at the airport in Mexico. Maya was waiting for them to take them home. She leaned against the door as they approached. “I see you are all in one piece. How did it go?”

  “Pretty much okay,” Michelle replied as she climbed in. “We got what we came for. And a lot to deal with once we’re home.”

  “How are things at the sanctuary?” Trella asked.

  “Aside from a few things - pretty normal.” Maya said.

  Michelle narrowed her eyes. “That means something did happen.”

  Maya smirked. “Mils is giving the twins a hard physical. Testing their limits. Let me tell you, if they decide to be real Fangs and get proper training… I′m glad they′re on our side!”

  Trella shook her head. “Hard to believe the serum had such effects on them, especially at their age.

  “I’m no scientist,” Maya said, “but even Mils was baffled. The twins are around 12 years old. She thinks the combo of the serums made it possible.”

  Michelle frowned. “I still don’t think we should turn them into killing machines.”

  “It will be their choice to make when they're old enough,” Trella said.

  “In a way I think they already chose,” Maya continued. “Anya caught them watching battle footage from our missions. And those two looked really hyped. They even tried to mimic some of our moves. By the way, Yael will be visiting us. She wants to take them back to Brazil. She already asked Mama Gabriela to make them fake documents. She said it may be for the best if they will be in their natural environment. Plus she is a way better teacher than any of us.”

  “So much for their future,” Michelle murmured.

  “Maybe not,” Maya said. “Well, you can talk to her when she gets here… Oh, speaking of the devil… Your dad called a few times. You didn′t tell him where you were going, right?”

  Michelle groaned. “Oh, boy… What did you tell him?”

  “Not much… Just that you went off chasing clues. But you better talk to him when we get back, before he snaps.”

  ***

  Back in the sanctuary com room the video feed flickered to life.

  “Hi, dad!”

  “Where have you been?!” Williams barked. “I was worried sick!”

  “Sorry, dad! I was evidence hunting. I found a very hot trail and I couldn′t wait. Don′t worry, I didn′t go alone! I had a team with me!”

  “Yeah, at least you′re not that reckless… Where have you actually been?”

  “Joseph gave me a contact to Mr. Wong. I went to talk to him.”

  Dawson leaned forward. “You managed to call Wong? That’s surprising.”

  “No, I mean I went to talk to him in person…”

  Dawson almost choked on his coffee. “You did WHAT?!”

  “We went to Tratpur… Sorry…”

  Dawson sputtered. “You— you— you—”

  “What? Who?” Williams asked, confused.

  “David,” Dawson said sharply, “Tratpur is the city of outlaws. And Wong is the man who runs it.”

  “The important thing is we have what we came for!”

  “You convinced Wong to give you something?” Dawson stared. “How?”

  “We just had to do a little job for him and-”

  Trella joined the call. “She outsmarted him hard. He didn’t have a choice.”

  Dawson exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe this…”

  “What I have learned is important! I was able to meet Luuross Chan! The guy who dug up the Organisations' research! And I could question him!

  Dawson rubbed his temples. “David, I don′t know if your daughter is super crazy or super lucky. I think I′m gonna retire…”

  “We gained crucial information,” Trella said.

  “There were three buyers,” Michelle said. “One was Santos. The other one was a Japanese company and the last was Schmidt. And a certain former brigadier general was with him and-”

  “Wait, what? Are you talking about Kingston?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hold on for a moment. I'll be right back.”

  A moment later he came back and introduced a new face on the screen.

  “Michelle, this is deputy Lang.”

  “Your dad told me a lot of good things about you. I have to admit, what you did was very brave, but also very reckless and dangerous.”

  “I knew what I was going into. And I had a good team with me.”

  “Important is, you have informations, correct?”

  “Yes. We found out that Chan sold the formula to only three people. Two are already dead - Santos and Schmidt. The only other buyer is a Japanese company named Tojo or something.

  “Tojo? You mean Tojo Sayako Technologies?” Lang’s expression darkened.

  “Yes, that's them!”

  “That may be a problem. It is the largest R&D company in Japan. That is one place you might not be able to get into.”

  “And we found another problem,” Michelle continued. “When Schmidt bought the data, he was not alone there. Chan identified his partner - general Kingston.”

  “That confirms our theories that Kingston and Schmidt worked together.“

  “But there is a catch,” Trella said. ”No evidence exists. He was smart enough to stay in the background without being mentioned anywhere. Chan also said that Kingston sent the US soldiers after him.”

  Lang nodded. “There should be some records of this. We′ll look into it. Thank you, Miss Williams. Oh, and by the way. I would recommend you watch the evening news today.”

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The call ended.

  ***

  The girls have gathered in front of the TV to watch the news, just as deputy Lang recommended.

  “In a joint operation between the NSA and the FBI, a series of raids have shut down several illegal research and manufacturing facilities believed to be connected to the SimCor scandal. According to official statements, the so-called steelworks, where experimental armor was forged, has been completely shut-down. Dozens of assets were seized and several high-ranking CIA officials have been taken into custody on charges of corruption and conspiracy. Among those questioned today was also former Brigadier General Richard Kingston. While no formal charges have been filed, sources suggest investigators are examining his possible involvement.”

  The girls were watching the news with tension. Faint blue light from the TV reflected on their faces.

  Trella broke the silence. “Guess we kicked a bigger hornet’s nest than we thought.”

  Maya continued. “Lang was not exaggerating. She probably helped leak half of this.”

  Michelle spoke softly, almost to herself. “Kingston’s not down yet… but he’s bleeding.”

  “Do you think he’ll come after us?” Mei-Ling asked.

  “Hard to say. People like Kingston don’t forget. They wait. And we’ll be ready.”

  The broadcast fades into background noise. The girls exchange quiet glances. No one says it, but they all feel it, the storm hasn’t passed.

  ***

  The morning sun gilded the sanctuary with an ordinary calm that felt almost obscene after Tratpur. The girls ate at the long wooden table, laughter trying to thread itself through exhaustion. Then a familiar car arrived. The sound of gravel crunching outside cut the moment cleanly in half. Williams and Dawson stepped out first. Michelle went to meet them. But there was someone with them - deputy Lang. She moved with the certainty of someone who had already taken the measure of the place before her boots touched the ground. Smaller than Michelle had imagined. Sharper. The kind of presence that made a room straighten itself without being told.

  “So this is where you live now. A beautiful place, I must admit.”

  Michelle nearly dropped her mug. “D-D-Deputy Lang? W-W-what are you—”

  “Ah, Miss Williams. At last. I’m impressed by what you accomplished. Concerned as well. But we’ll speak of that later.” She paused, inhaled lightly. “Something smells good — breakfast, I presume? May I join you?”

  She walked with them into the dining room, greeting the others with a terse nod. A few of the girls choked on their eggs at the sight of her; Lang merely observed. They ate. There was little small talk. Then Lang set down her cup. “I′m happy to inform you that your CIA problem has been resolved. By my authority, I’ve lifted your arrest warrants. You’re no longer wanted. If you wish, you may return to Odenton; the NSA will take over management there. Travel to the U.S. freely.

  “Thanks,” Trella said after a beat. “But we like it here.”

  Lang’s lips curved faintly. “I admit, this place has its charm.”

  Her tone shifted. She now spoke with careful patience. “Mr. Williams. You surrendered your CIA badge. I’d like to offer you a position at the NSA. Mr. Dawson as well. You’ve both earned it.”

  Williams blinked. “That was… unexpected. We’ll consider it.”

  Lang nodded and turned to the girls. “As for you - the CIA studied you like lab rats. The NSA values the arrangement, but we would like to formalize a new one. Junior investigators. A purpose beyond mercenary work. Occasional unpleasant missions - yes, but also resources and a cover that won’t make you targets.”

  There was a pause while the offer rolled around the table like something hot.

  “We’ll think about it,” Michelle said carefully. “No promises.”

  “Very well,” Lang inclined her head. “Now to Kingston. You’ve confirmed his involvement with SimCor, but there’s no legal hook. How would you handle it?”

  Trella’s answer was blunt. “We’d kill him.”

  Lang kept her calm. “Tempting, but he is a public figure, that would create an unpleasant political tension.”

  “So we can’t arrest him and we can’t kill him,” Trella muttered.

  “Well he is not exactly the youngest,” Liza said dryly. “How about we give him a heart attack? Nobody would investigate THAT.

  “And how do you want to achieve that?”

  Michelle smirks. “You know… There is a reason why her nickname is Poison Ivy.”

  “I can prepare a compound that would accelerate an existing condition. It’s precise. It leaves little to trace.”

  “Interesting. In that case, I’d like to use your services.”

  The offer landed like a weight and then a rope thrown across a chasm.

  After breakfast the girls gathered in the back room. Maya softly closed the door behind them. No one wanted to start. Finally Trella did what Trella always does. “So? We take the shiny offer and become government contractors with benefits? Or do we keep doing things our way—dirty, loud, and free?”

  “It’s not about benefits,” Liza said. “It’s about cover and resources. They want obedience. That’s the trade.”

  “Obedient?” Aya snorted. “Since when have we been obedient to anyone?”

  “Lang isn’t trying to cage us,” Michelle said quietly. “She’s offering us access. Labs, intel, the legal blank space we can operate from. It could get us inside places we can’t touch otherwise.”

  “But then we work for the people who watched us like lab rats,” Mei-Ling said. “ How is that different?

  The NSA is not the CIA,” Katya replied calmly. “Different politics, different games, but same machinery. We’d be a tool. Tools get discarded.”

  “Tools also get paid,” Trella countered. “We’d have protection. We’d have a way to move without being hunted by everyone.”

  Aya’s fist tightened; for once the jokeless part of her spoke. “I shot that man for Michelle. I did it for a reason. If the NSA ties us in knots so tight we can’t move for each other, what did that shot buy us? Freedom to be more efficient murderers?”

  “I don’t want us to be murderers,” Michelle said. “I want us to have room to choose.”

  “And what about the twins?” Mei-Ling asked, concerned. “ If we sign on with them, it’s a path. They might not be able to choose not to follow.”

  “They’ll still be kids if you keep them that way,” Maya spoke calmly from the doorway. “Only you’re in the position to keep them from becoming real monsters.”

  Everyone’s gaze slid to Michelle. She had not spoken for a beat too long.

  “If we sign with Lang, we get leverage. If we refuse, we keep our hair and our distance, but we stay hunted and underfunded. Both are dangerous. Both cost us something.”

  “What’s the price you’re willing to pay, Michelle? For you? For us?” Katya asked.

  Michelle remained silent for a while. “I’ll make a counter. We become partners on our terms. We accept access, resources, cleared movement, limited official missions. But we set the boundaries. No permanent attachment. No children in labs. Full veto. We get to refuse.”

  Trella raised an eyebrow. “And you think they’ll accept a contract that says we get to refuse?”

  “I don’t like it,” Aya said softly. “But I want to keep Michelle safe and be able to move when the world turns on us.”

  Michelle said firmly. “We do the assassination job for Lang and we need to clean up the mess in Japan. Then we decide. And we will see how she’s going to help us. I took a quick look at Tojo Sayako. It’s the biggest company in Japan with multiple high-tech facilities. We won’t be able to walk in like we did with SimCor. And regarding the twins — Yael wants to pick them up. Since those two aren’t official Fangs, they’re basically free to move. She’s simply taking them home. Nothing more.”

  “If Yael can give them a life that isn’t all knives and missions, let her do it,” Aya said softly. “They deserve that.”

  The girls leave the back room to confront Lang. Michelle stepped forward. “We talked it through. First — we’ll accept the Kingston job. We do the hit you asked for.”

  Lang’s gaze hardened. “You understand the consequences, yes? There is no neat legal clean-up for that.”

  “We understand. You offered us cover; this is the condition. We’ll do it on terms that keep the fingerprints tidy.”

  Lang didn’t dodge it. “Agreed. You want the action to be surgical and deniable. I can provide limited assets, but understand that my hands are tied in certain places. I can't legally lead you, and I can't greenlight it officially.”

  Michelle nodded. She’d expected that. “Second — the twins,” she continued. “They’re not Fangs. They came here as guests for treatment and will return home. They’re not part of the team, and we don’t want them involved.”

  Lang’s mouth tightened for a fraction. “Understood. From what I’ve seen, they are to be treated as civilians and dependents. Anything involving them goes through formal channels.”

  Michelle let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The twins’ futures were a delicate, private thing; Lang’s assurance landed like a small, necessary blessing.

  “Third. I wanted to ask you something before we proceed: how do you feel about weaponizing enhanced humans? About creating more of what we are?”

  Lang’s expression changed. “I don’t condone it. I value the assets you represent, but I have never been an advocate of manufacturing more of you. That’s not my doctrine.”

  “Good. Because Tojo’s access to that research and what they could do with it is worrying. We won’t be able to break into their labs the way we broke into SimCor. If Tojo is building a network, it could be an engine nobody can control.”

  Lang’s eyes darkened, the old gears turning. “Then we cooperate unofficially. I’ll open some channels that won’t show up on a public trail. I′ll feed you what I can from within. You get the resources to hit Kingston and to probe Tojo; I get plausible outcomes and a chance to stop something worse. But this will not be a contract, but a trial cooperation.”

  Michelle’s response was a quiet, sharp relief. “If you’re sincere, we’ll take the help. If not, we walk away. No strings attached.”

  Lang inclined her head. “Fair. And Miss Williams…”

  Michelle braced. “Don’t let the line between innocence and experience blur beyond repair.”

  Michelle absorbed the warning. It was not a plea so much as an order lightened with concern — an odd, humane thing from a woman of the state.