"We're here," the biker barked, pulling the machine to a sharp halt.
Allen stepped off the pillion seat, his boots hitting the hard-packed snow. He adjusted his collar against the chill, his eyes scanning the massive structure looming ahead.
"Is this the place?" Allen asked, keeping his tone flat.
The biker gave a rough nod. Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed a contact, stepping a few paces away to speak in low, hurried murmurs.
I expected some shady, abandoned warehouse, Allen thought, his analytical gaze mapping the perimeter. But no. The Loop really went all out to blend into the city. A legitimate sports stadium.
Dozens of modified street bikes and high-end racing cars were parked in neat rows across the asphalt, their polished rims catching the glare of the security lights. It looked like any standard high-stakes tournament venue.
Suddenly, a faint, rhythmic vibration hummed against the bone right behind Allen's ear.
"Allen, you in?" Liam's voice cut through the silence. It sounded compressed—low-pitched, tight, and running at a rapid cadence.
Liam? Where is that coming from? Allen thought, tracking the sensation to the temple tips of the biometrics glasses.
"You're probably wondering how you're hearing me," Liam's voice continued seamlessly. "It's a built-in feature of the frame. The audio is compressed into a 20 Hz frequency loop running at 1.5 times speed. To the human ear, it's virtually imperceptible ambient noise, but the frame translates it directly into your inner ear. If anyone gets too close to you, cough twice. That'll let me know you're compromised."
Allen kept his expression completely blank, acknowledging the tactical advantage. He couldn't speak out loud with the biker nearby.
"Since you can't talk right now, cough once if you've successfully reached the staging area," Liam instructed.
Allen cleared his throat, letting out a single, natural-sounding cough.
"Understood. I'm locking onto the signal broadcast and tracing your exact coordinates now," Liam replied.
The biker pocketed his phone and turned back to Allen. "Hey, kid. Wait out here on the steps for a minute. I just contacted the gate managers. They'll be down to get you any second."
Allen gave a casual nod. He walked over to a flight of concrete stairs leading up to the stadium's side entrance and sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. The biker kicked his starter, twisted the throttle, and sped away into the dark perimeter.
With the immediate area clear, Allen spoke in a quiet whisper, barely moving his lips. "Liam, can you hear me clearly?"
"Crystal," Liam answered instantly. "I'm monitoring the live tracking loop. You're inside the secondary perimeter. How's the visible security looking?"
"I thought security was tight around here," Allen murmured, his eyes sweeping the empty ticket booths. "But from where I'm sitting, it looks like a standard venue. Maybe the heavy muscle is restricted to the main Third Branch facility, not this public racing front."
"Don't let your guard down regardless," Liam warned, his tone sharpening. "After what happened in 4th branch, Loop would be alert. You don't know who's watching those feeds."
"Understood. I'm just waiting for the gatekeepers to show up and let me into the building," Allen said. He paused, the silence stretching for a moment before he decided to break the tension. "Liam, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"You work for military, full-time, right?" Allen asked.
"Yeah. Why?"
"How's the pay scale over there?" Allen asked with a faint smirk.
Liam let out a dry chuckle over the low frequency. "Let's just say it keeps the lights on and funds my tech lab. Why, you looking to switch careers?"
"Not quite," Allen replied softly. "My current freelance contract pays incredibly well. A single payout can cover my expenses for months."
"Must be nice," Liam mused. "If the compensation is that solid, why don't you bring Ethan into your circle? The kid's got the tactical build for high-end freelance work."
"Ethan already took a high-risk assignment recently," Allen noted. "He received his clearance payout for it."
There was a brief pause on the line before Liam spoke up, his tone shifting into sudden comprehension. "Wait... so that was Ethan's money."
"What do you mean?" Allen asked, his brow furrowing.
"A while ago, a massive, un-flagged wire transfer hit my personal bank account," Liam explained. "Ethan had asked me for my bank details a few days prior, but he never told me why. I figured it was an operational budget. I'll have to sit down with him when we get back and return the funds."
Allen gave a slow nod, keeping his eyes on the main driveway. "Good luck."
"Well, I was busy and Ethan himself never asked so I completely forgot." Liam said.
Allen nodded slowly.