The tires screamed as Kade slammed the brakes. The Camry skidded sideways, the world tilting in flashes of saltwater and steel. They came to a hard stop at the end of the pier — the ocean stretched out ahead, black and endless, and the air smelled like rust and rain.

“Out,” Kade ordered, already throwing open his door.

Riley blinked at him, wind whipping her hair into her face. “Out? As in, into the open where people are shooting things?”

“Unless you want to stay in the car and get perforated,” he said, reaching into the back for a small duffel bag.

“Right. No, thank you. I like my organs inside me.”

She scrambled out, shoes slipping against the damp wood. The crash of waves below was almost drowned out by the sound of approaching engines — low, rumbling, and too close for comfort.

Mia’s voice came through his earpiece, faint with static. “Extraction point updated—north dock, cargo bay entrance. Go dark and move fast.”

Kade tapped his earpiece. “Say again? You’re breaking—”

The line hissed, then went dead.

“Perfect,” Riley muttered. “Because what we needed right now was less communication.”

Kade swung the duffel over his shoulder. “Stay close. Don’t stop unless I tell you.”

“Got it. Just one question—what happens if you do tell me to stop?”

“Then we’re already dead.”

“Cool, thanks for the pep talk!”

They darted between stacks of shipping crates, the pier’s floodlights throwing long, skeletal shadows across the wet ground. Kade moved like he’d done this a hundred times — silent, precise, every motion deliberate. Riley, on the other hand, was doing her best impression of someone who’d just been dropped into a video game without the tutorial.

Behind them, a black SUV screeched around the corner, headlights slicing through the dark. Gunfire cracked — sharp, echoing.

Riley flinched, ducking instinctively. “Okay! That’s not fireworks! Definitely not fireworks!”

Kade grabbed her wrist, yanking her behind a crate. “Keep your head down!”

“I’m trying! My head’s doing its best to not get ventilated!”

He peered around the corner, eyes narrowing. “They’re spreading out. Two flanking left, one on the pier walkway. They’re trying to box us in.”

Riley’s brain spun. Think, think, think. Her eyes darted to a row of old fishing nets hanging beside them — heavy, thick ropes glinting with metal hooks and tangled cables.

“Hey,” she whispered, tugging his sleeve. “What if we—uh—distract them?”

He glanced at her, annoyed. “Distract them how?”

“I don’t know, spy guy, I wasn’t issued a manual! But maybe we can make them think we’re moving right when we’re actually—”

Before she finished, a bullet whizzed past, splintering the wood near her shoulder. She yelped, then grabbed one of the hanging nets and swung it hard toward the pier’s edge. It knocked over a stack of metal barrels, sending them clattering loudly into the water.

Kade froze, eyes flicking toward the sound — then realization hit.

“That… actually worked,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no big deal, just saving our lives with basic physics!” she whispered back, adrenaline flooding her voice.

The gunfire shifted toward the sound of the barrels. Kade grabbed her hand and pulled her along the opposite direction, weaving through shadows. They darted toward the cargo bay, where dim red lights blinked near the far gate.

Riley gasped, “Okay, not to be that person, but are we sure your extraction team is even real? Because at this point I feel like I’m being punked by the CIA.”

He smirked slightly, the first trace of amusement she’d seen on him. “You’re handling this better than most civilians.”

“Oh, wow, what an honor,” she shot back, breathless. “Do I get a badge? A coupon?”

A gunshot cracked again, closer this time. Kade turned sharply, pulling a small device from his belt — something flat and metallic, like a grenade without pins. He tossed it toward the SUV. A flash of blue light erupted, and the headlights flickered out, leaving the world momentarily dark.

“EMP,” he said simply.

Riley blinked at him. “You just—blew up their electronics? In a Toyota?!”

“Adaptability is part of the job.”

“Right, well, adaptability is new to me, so I’m just gonna keep screaming internally until this is over!”

They reached the cargo bay entrance — a massive, rusted gate with a padlock the size of her hand. Kade crouched, yanking something from his bag.

Riley glanced over her shoulder. “They’re getting closer! I can hear footsteps—oh, great, now I can count them!”

“Three seconds,” Kade muttered.

“You don’t have three seconds!”

He ignored her, working on the lock with a tiny spark tool. Riley’s eyes darted around — crates, barrels, a control panel on the wall with blinking lights and a warning label: Hydraulic Lift System.

Hydraulics… she thought. If they’re on the dock side, and I…

She darted toward it.

“Riley!” Kade barked.

“Trust me!” she said, slamming her palm onto the control switch.

The lift groaned to life, a massive platform rising between them and the pier walkway — just as the armed men appeared. The metal wall blocked their sightline, cutting off their aim.

The noise echoed across the dock — loud, mechanical, perfect cover for Kade’s lockpick spark to finish its work. The gate clicked open.

Kade stared at her, half in disbelief. “How did you even know that would work?”

“I didn’t!” she admitted. “But it made a cool noise, so I went for it!”

He shook his head, equal parts impressed and exasperated. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah, well, I’m alive, so I’m calling it a win!”

Mia’s voice crackled back in through static, faint but clear. “Kade—visual confirmed—north bay secured. Two minutes to pickup.”

“Copy,” he said, guiding Riley through the gate.

She exhaled, chest heaving. “Remind me never to take Uber Pool again.”

Kade almost — almost — smiled. “Noted.”