District 3, Sector 4

Abandoned Police Academy

24 Days Until Zero Hour

A calm male voice rang out behind her, and Kelly instinctively raised her hands. She didn’t get the chance to answer or even turn around before a familiar, amused voice echoed in the distance.

“Hey Ace, maybe don’t greet the new recruit with a headshot?”

Kelly spun on her heel—right into the barrel of Ace Busterrix’s gun, just inches from her forehead. She didn’t lower her hands, and he didn’t lower the weapon. They just stood there, studying each other like two exotic animals from rival zoos.

She had to admit—the Bureau had done him dirty with that photo in his file. In person, he looked far better: chocolate brown hair swept to one side, a nose broken more than once but less prominent than expected, and the same sharp gray eyes—clever and fox-like.

“Oh really?” he finally muttered, as Grom and Montgomery walked over. He spun the gun casually on his finger and tucked it back into the holster hidden beneath his gray blazer.

“Arrived two days ago with Urs—he was supposed to tell you,” Grom explained, ignoring the two recruits in question.

“Oh.” Just that one word. Ace shrugged. He picked up his duffle bag, and at Grom’s question about the trip, he walked inside. Seconds later, Urs’s voice rang out in a loud, surprised greeting.

Only then did Kelly lower her arms, glaring at the now-closed door. She pointed at it and looked to Montgomery, but before she could say a word, he burst into laughter. She puffed up like an offended peacock.

“What the hell did you do to get a gun in your face on your first day?” he chuckled, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Nothing!” she squeaked. “I was just being myself!”

“There’s your problem,” he snorted. “You attract chaos like a magnet. Maybe we should rename you Black Cat.”

“Careful, or I’ll rearrange your teeth!” she called after him as he disappeared inside, unmoved by her threats.

She hissed under her breath, yanking down her hood just as a cold gust of wind blew her hair directly into her face.

“Ugh, screw you too,” she muttered, pushing strands behind her ears, but the wind—like Keith—ignored her entirely.

She groaned, pressing a palm to her forehead.

Great first impression on the new boss, right?

~•••~

At an early dinner, Ace met the new recruits—and they met him. Urs explained how each had performed, while Grom casually recounted Ace’s warm welcome to Kelly. Deymour nearly choked on his soda, spraying it across the table.

“I still can’t believe you pointed a gun at Thifer first thing,” Urs howled with laughter.

“You see a stranger in a hoodie on your property, what do you do?”

“I dunno, maybe don’t go full Texas?” Urs wheezed.

“Might’ve skipped that if someone bothered to tell me the recruitment was done.” Ace tossed the ball right back, smile on his lips but reprimand flashing in his eyes.

“Aw, come on. We agreed not to bug you—wanted it to be a nice surprise.”

“You agreed,” Mantis muttered dryly.

“Shhh!” Urs hissed, throwing an empty can at him and missing by half a meter. “I was just trying to impress you!”

“Well, color me impressed,” Ace chuckled, downing a glass of tonic and winking at Kelly. She managed a strained smile.

The Trouble Crew had mixed feelings about Busterrix. With the rest of the gang, the dossiers matched the real people. But Ace? He was nothing like the file. Dressed in a black turtleneck and a gray blazer, he looked like a CEO, joked like a camp counselor, and genuinely seemed interested in their backgrounds. Only his eyes gave him away—their wild gleam never left.

They couldn’t let the illusion fool them. This was the man allegedly planning to kidnap the Prime Minister’s son.

Allegedly.

The Bureau’s suspicions were strong: reports showed Ace contacting people linked to Leonard Ragnarson, loitering around his school in disguises, attending his basketball games. Either Ace didn’t know how to be subtle, or he was trolling the entire intelligence sector.

Still, these were just assumptions. The Bureau couldn’t hold him more than 48 hours based on them. Hence: Team Trouble. Their job? Figure out Ace’s true intentions—and intervene if necessary.

Things would’ve been a lot easier if they weren’t a bunch of amateur criminals.

“How’d the business go?” Toxi finally asked, steering the conversation back on track.

Ace lit up, downed another glass of whatever it was he was drinking, and stood. He leaned over and kissed Toxi on the forehead—Kelly mentally kicked herself for not betting on the nature of that relationship.

“Good thing the smartest, most beautiful woman in my life runs things in my absence,” he said with a grin, then disappeared into the hall.

He returned less than a minute later, carrying a small black case. He set it on the kitchen counter, and everyone turned toward him. Urs and Mantis stood and approached.

Inside was a bottle filled with a glowing blue liquid—and several syringes.

The Trouble Crew exchanged quick, unreadable glances.

“A new kind of moonshine or…?” Ben asked hesitantly.

“Better,” Ace grinned. “Had a buddy of mine—professor type—cook this up over the past few months.”

He drew a small dose into a syringe and held it up to the light.

Then turned to Mantis.

“Nothing personal, Yan.”

Without warning, he jabbed the needle into Mantis’s neck.

Mantis flinched, grabbing at his throat, but before he could speak, he collapsed like a sack of bricks.

Everyone gaped.

“He’s fine. Just asleep,” Ace reassured, wiping off the syringe and tucking it back into its case. “He’ll wake up in five minutes. I didn’t give him much.”

Grom lifted his unconscious friend into a chair. Mantis’s head thunked onto the table, and he started snoring softly.

Ace locked the case and leaned against the counter.

“To answer your question, Toxi—business went great.”

“So it’s not moonshine… but it hits just like it,” Ben said dryly.

“Exactly. My guy can whip up top-shelf liquor and top-secret concoctions,” Ace said, patting the case.

“I didn’t think he’d finish it this soon,” Urs admitted.

“Money talks. And with this, we can test the formula… tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Urs stiffened. “I didn’t hear anything about this. What are you planning?”

“A bonding exercise,” Ace said cheerfully, scanning the recruits. “Nothing builds trust like a shared heist, right?”

The Trouble Squad didn’t respond—still reeling from the turn of events.

“Isn’t it a bit soon?” Urs pressed. Kelly noted his tone. Why was he so concerned?

“The sooner the better. Don’t start sounding old, Urs.” Ace clapped him on the shoulder and returned to his seat.

“What’s the job this time?” Toxi asked, like he’d just suggested a movie night.

Ace topped off his glass. Mantis shifted in his sleep, groaning faintly.

“Forgot it hits harder with booze,” Ace muttered, watching the snoring man, then waved it off.

He turned to the group—his voice shifting into mission-briefing mode.

“Tomorrow at 1 a.m., a jeep will leave the 2nd precinct in Frox Tof—center of District 3. It’ll be loaded with fresh gear for the outer precinct in Yalapeno. Brand new bulletproof vests, pistols, grenades… I figured we could refresh our wardrobe. And treat our recruits to something nice.”

For the first time, that same unhinged glint from his profile photo flickered in his eyes.

They were finally seeing the real Ace Busterrix— and his plan to hit a government convoy.