The helicopter touched down on a rooftop hidden somewhere in the industrial sprawl outside the city. From above, the building looked like any other warehouse — grey, windowless, and boring enough to disappear into Google Maps blur. Up close, it was another story.

Riley followed Kade down the metal steps, hair whipping in the rotor wash, her knees still wobbling.

“Okay,” she said over the noise, “if this is the afterlife, it smells like jet fuel and bad decisions.”

Kade didn’t respond — just flashed a coded badge at a steel door. It slid open with a hiss.

The inside looked like the world’s least inviting office — concrete walls, glowing screens, and enough security cameras to make a conspiracy theorist cry. People in black uniforms moved with the kind of precision that screamed “military with better funding.”

Riley gawked openly. “Whoa. Is this Area 51 or, like, a really intense DMV?”

A voice answered smoothly from across the room. “Closer to the first one.”

Mia stepped forward — tall, poised, wearing a headset and the calm confidence of someone who’d already saved a hundred missions before breakfast. Her hair was pulled back into a clean twist, her expression unreadable. But her eyes — sharp and assessing — took in Riley in a single glance and seemed to catalog her entirely.

Riley blinked. “Oh. So you’re the voice from the Bluetooth of doom.”

Mia’s lips quirked. “Mia Jensen. Field coordination director. And you’re Riley Torres — accidental civilian, unplanned extraction passenger, and, according to Kade, ‘unreasonably loud but surprisingly useful.’”

Riley gaped. “He said that? He actually said I was useful?”

Kade crossed his arms. “I said surprisingly.”

“Wow. Thanks for the glowing recommendation, Agent Sunshine.”

Mia’s gaze flicked between them, amused but focused. “Your distraction maneuver at the pier diverted three hostiles and allowed our secondary team to secure the data drive. You might have saved more than just yourselves.”

Riley blinked. “Wait… I did what?”

Kade looked mildly uncomfortable. “The barrels you knocked over? They weren’t just noise. The hostiles followed the sound and walked right into a crossfire.”

Riley froze. “Oh my God. I’m a hero by accident.”

Mia smiled faintly. “That’s one way to phrase it.”

Kade cut in. “She needs to be debriefed and sent home. She doesn’t belong here.”

Riley frowned. “Hey, rude. I literally just ‘saved the mission,’ remember?”

Mia studied her quietly. “Actually, Kade… I disagree.”

He turned, brow furrowing. “What?”

“Her situational awareness was impressive, and her improvisation under pressure saved time. We need analysts who think unpredictably. Civilians see angles we don’t.”

Riley blinked. “Uh, thanks, I think? Are you saying you want me to… intern here or something?”

Mia tilted her head. “Let’s call it temporary field assistance. A continuation of tonight’s mission. You’d be paired with Agent Mercener for final phase logistics.”

“Wait, I’d have to work with him?” Riley asked, pointing at Kade.

Kade looked equally unimpressed. “You’re not serious.”

Mia gave him a calm smile. “Unless you have a better partner in mind.”

Silence.

Kade looked away, jaw tight. “No.”

Mia nodded once. “Then it’s settled.”

Riley blinked between them. “Hold on. I’m not exactly ‘spy material.’ My biggest crime was sneaking free Wi-Fi at Starbucks. You’re telling me I’m qualified to be, what, Mission: Improbable?”

Mia just smirked. “You managed to survive Kade’s driving and contribute to the mission. That already puts you in the top five percent.”

Kade muttered, “That’s not funny.”

“It is a little funny,” Riley said under her breath.

Mia clasped her hands. “You’ll be briefed in one hour. In the meantime, shower’s down the hall, cafeteria to your right. And Riley—”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome to the field.”

Riley stared at her, wide-eyed. “This is insane.”

Kade finally exhaled, low and resigned. “You have no idea.”