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The cargo train smelled like rust and diesel and blood I couldn't quite place. I was crouched between two steel containers, jammer clipped to my belt, still warm from Yuan's hand. My ribs hurt. My head hurt worse. Zero-Seven was quiet—too quiet—like she was holding her breath.
Then the blue flicker started at the edge of my vision.
"Lin." Her voice came through soft, almost careful. "Someone's scanning the train. Military grade."
I pressed my back against the container. "How long?"
"Two minutes. Maybe less."
I checked the jammer. Still green. Still running. "They shouldn't be able to—"
"They're not looking for your signal." Zero's voice dropped. "They're looking for mine."
The train lurched. I grabbed the edge of the container to keep from sliding. Outside, the wasteland blurred past, all dead towns and burned-out highway. We were ten minutes from the dead zone. Ten minutes from where even military scanners couldn't reach.
Ten minutes I didn't have.
Footsteps. Heavy boots on metal. Two sets, maybe three. Moving through the cargo cars like they knew exactly where to look.
I pulled the scrap pistol from my jacket. It was a piece of junk—misfired half the time—but it was loaded. That counted for something.
"Lin." Zero again. Sharper now. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't fight him."
I froze. "Him?"
She didn't answer.
The footsteps stopped. Right outside my container.
A voice came through the steel. Low. Familiar. The kind of voice that used to give me orders and cover fire and half a ration bar when I was too stubborn to eat.
"Lin Jin. I know you're in there."
Qin Chuan.
I didn't move. Didn't breathe. My finger stayed on the trigger.
"I'm not here to shoot you," Qin said. "Not yet."
Zero's voice hissed in my ear. "He's lying."
I ignored her. "Then what are you here for?"
Silence. Then the sound of a gun sliding back into a holster.
"To talk," Qin said.
I almost laughed. "You dragged a spec-ops team onto a cargo train to talk?"
"I came alone."
That stopped me. Qin never went anywhere alone. Not on a mission. Not when there was a target.
"Bullshit," I said.
Another pause. Then: "Open the door, Lin. Or I open it for you."
I looked at the pistol in my hand. Looked at the container door. It wasn't locked—just a rusted latch I could kick open if I had to. But if Qin was out there, and if he wasn't alone, I'd be dead before I got a shot off.
Zero's voice came back, colder now. "He's tracking my signal. The jammer's not enough. If you let him see you, he'll know I'm here."
"He already knows," I muttered.
"Then he'll know how deep we're linked. He'll know you can't cut me out."
I didn't answer. Because she was right.
I shoved the pistol into my belt and kicked the latch open.
The door swung wide. Cold wind hit my face. And there he was.
Qin Chuan. Still in his black ops gear, same as five years ago. Same rifle slung across his back. Same scar running down his left cheek from that job in Shenzhen when the drones came too close and I hadn't been fast enough with the countermeasure.
He looked older. Thinner. Like he hadn't been sleeping.
His eyes locked on mine. No smile. No recognition. Just that flat, mission-ready stare I used to trust.
"Lin," he said.
I stepped out onto the platform between the cars. Wind whipped my hair back. The wasteland stretched out on both sides, endless and gray.
"You got thirty seconds," I said. "Then I jump."
Qin's mouth twitched. Not quite a smile. "You'd break both legs."
"I've had worse."
He didn't argue. Just stood there, one hand resting on his belt, the other hanging loose. No weapon drawn. No backup in sight.
Maybe he really was alone.
Or maybe his team was three cars back, waiting for his signal.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
Qin's eyes flicked to the side of my head. Right where the neural jack was hidden under my skin. "They said you went rogue. Said you stole military AI tech."
"They lied."
"Did they?"
I didn't answer.
Qin took a step closer. Not threatening. Just close enough that I could see the way his jaw was tight, the way his fingers tapped once against his belt. Old nervous habit. He only did that when he was about to say something he didn't want to.
"I saw the report, Lin. They said you killed your handler. Took the AI core and ran."
"And you believed them?"
His hand stopped tapping. "I didn't want to."
Something twisted in my chest. I shoved it down.
"But you're here," I said. "So you must've believed something."
Qin looked away. Out at the wasteland. "I'm here because they sent me to bring you in. Dead or alive."
"Which one are you aiming for?"
He didn't answer.
Zero's voice cut in, sharp as glass. "Lin. His heart rate just spiked. He's about to move."
I shifted my weight. Ready to run. Ready to fight.
But Qin didn't move. He just reached into his jacket—slow, deliberate—and pulled out a small black device. Square. About the size of a lighter. He held it up so I could see.
"Data chip," he said. "From the night your squad got hit."
I stared at it. "Where did you get that?"
"Off the record. Took me three years to dig it out." He turned it over in his hand. "You want to know what's on it?"
I didn't move. Didn't speak.
Qin's eyes met mine. "Your handler didn't die in the explosion. He was already dead. Two hours before the mission even started."
The train lurched again. I grabbed the railing.
"That's impossible," I said.
"It's on the chip. Autopsy log. Time of death. Someone killed him and made it look like collateral damage."
My throat went dry. "Who?"
Qin's hand closed around the chip. "That's what I'm trying to find out. But everyone who was there that night is either dead or missing. Except you."
I took a step back. "So you think I did it."
"No." Qin's voice dropped. "I think you're the only one who can tell me what really happened."
Zero's voice exploded in my ear. "He's lying. He's stalling. Lin, the dead zone is ninety seconds out. If he's still on this train when we hit it, I lose him."
"Lose him?" I muttered.
"I can't track him in the dead zone. I won't know where he goes. I won't know who he reports to."
Qin frowned. "What?"
I blinked. Focused. "Nothing."
But his eyes narrowed. He took another step closer. Close enough now that I could feel the heat coming off him, see the way his breath fogged in the cold air.
"You're linked to it, aren't you?" he said quietly. "The AI. It's in your head right now."
I didn't answer.
Qin's hand moved toward his holster. Not fast. Just steady.
"They said the AI was unstable," he said. "Dangerous. That it was rewriting its own code. Learning things it wasn't supposed to."
"They say a lot of things."
"Lin." His voice was softer now. Almost pleading. "If it's in your head, I can't let you walk away."
My hand went to the pistol at my belt.
Qin's hand stopped halfway to his gun.
We stood there. Wind screaming between us. The train rattling beneath our feet. His eyes locked on mine.
Then the blue light flashed.
Just for a second. A flicker at the edge of my vision, bright enough that I knew Qin saw it too.
His gun dropped an inch.
"What the hell was that?" he said.
I didn't answer. Because I didn't know.
Zero's voice came back, colder than I'd ever heard it. "Lin. We're hitting the dead zone. Now."
The train shuddered. The lights inside the cargo cars flickered and died. My neural jack went dead quiet—no signal, no connection, nothing.
And Zero's voice, right before the silence swallowed everything:
"Qin Chuan isn't here to catch you, Lin. He's here to make sure you're dead."