CHAPTER 113: EVERETT’S EXTRACTION TEAM

"Hello, Parker."

"Everett?"

"Where the hell is she?" Everett’s asked, each word cutting with barely restrained panic. "I’ve been pinging her burner every fifteen minutes since midnight. It went dark at 5:03am, and I’ve got nothing. Nothing!"

"She’s gone, Everett. All three of them." Parker, the head of his extraction team, replied with the flat tone of a man delivering bad news he’d already accepted.

"That’s not possible." Everett was pacing now, his footsteps echoing in the safe house. "I’ve had your team on standby, ex-Special Forces, the best extraction crew money can buy, since God knows when, ready to pull her out at a moment’s notice. And now you’re telling me she’s gone? That’s not possible, Parker. She knows the protocol, she knows the safe houses, she knows the emergency codes, the dead drops, everything we set up. She knows—"

"She didn’t want to be extracted," Parker interrupted. "It’s that obvious. She has disappeared. We can’t find them in the apartment anymore. The place is stripped clean."

Everett stopped pacing. "What do you mean, stripped clean?"

"I mean there’s nothing left. No trace of them. It’s like they were never there at all."

"Then find her!" Everett was shouting now, panic bleeding through his usual military composure. "What were you even doing when she disappeared? Were you watching the building? Were your eyes on the exit points? I’ve been helping her since she landed in Mumbai, I gave her my apartment, set up the cover story, arranged the documentation, put my own reputation on the line. And now she’s gone, and if something happens to her... Do you know who her father us? Koker will have my head on a pike. Do you understand what he’ll do to me? To us?"

"Koker already knows."

Everett stopped cold. "What? How do you know that?"

"That Sterling guy already called him about an hour ago. He needed to know." Parker’s voice dropped lower, as if he didn’t want to be overheard. "She used something called a metamorphosis compound. Changed their faces, their DNA, everything. Sterling found syringes, some kind of chemical liquid. They were all drugged—Sterling and Rajesh were out for so long."

"How..." Everett trailed off, his mind racing. "How can she drug them? Mira and I planned this extraction thing. That’s not just possible."

"Apparently it is. Apparently she’s been planning this for a while." Parker exhaled slowly. "And now we have three teenagers who might not even be teenagers anymore, wandering Mumbai with new identities and no memory of who they used to be. They could be anyone.

Hell, they could even look like us."

The line went quiet except for Everett’s ragged breathing. He slumped against the wall of the safe house, the weight of failure crushing down on his shoulders. He’d promised Mira he would keep her safe. He’d mobilized a six-man team, arranged safe houses across three cities, established extraction protocols that could get her out of India within four hours. And she’d simply... walked away.

Finally, he spoke, and his voice had lost all its earlier fire. "Find her, Parker. Please. You have to find her before she does something we can’t undo."

"I think she already did." Parker’s response was gentle, almost pitying. "Everett, if she changed their DNA, if she really used some kind of alchemical compound like Sterling says... there’s no coming back from that. They’re gone. The people they were—they don’t exist anymore."

"Just... keep looking. Check the train stations, the bus terminals, the airport. Check everything."

"We are. But Mumbai’s a city of twenty million people, and we’re looking for three faces we’ve never seen before." Parker paused. "I’m sorry, Everett. We should have seen this coming."

"Yeah." Everett’s laugh was hollow. "We all should have."

He ended the call and stared at his phone, at the string of unanswered messages he’d sent to Mira’s burner. The last one, sent at 5:03am, simply read: Ready when you are. Team is in position.

She’d read it. The encryption showed she’d read it at 5:04am, one minute before her phone went dark.

She’d known the extraction team was ready. She’d known Everett was waiting. And she’d chosen to disappear anyway.

---

Sterling and Rajesh canvassed the building, starting with the lobby. The morning shift security guard, a different man from the one who’d been on duty overnight, knew nothing.

They went back inside and requested the CCTV footage. The building manager pulled up the system on his computer, clicking through the timeline with growing confusion.

"That’s strange," he muttered. "It’s all here up until midnight, then... nothing. Just black screen until 6:00am, then it starts recording again."

"Corrupted file?" Rajesh asked, though he already knew the answer.

"No, no. Not corrupted. It’s just... gone. Like someone deleted it." The manager clicked frantically, checking backup files, alternate cameras, anything. "But that’s not possible. This system is automatic. Nobody can delete the files without the password."

"Who has the password?"

"Just me and the building owner. And I didn’t delete anything, I swear."

Sterling exchanged a glance with Rajesh. Mira had somehow accessed the system remotely, wiped the exact hours she needed, and left no trace. She’d planned this down to the minute, accounting for every camera, every angle, every witness.

"She had everything under control," Rajesh muttered as they stepped back outside into the building heat of early morning Mumbai.

They tried the neighboring buildings next, talking to more security guards,, more sleepy-eyed residents heading out for their morning routines. No one remembered three teenagers. No one saw anything unusual.

At the taxi stand two blocks away, the drivers were worse, most hadn’t even started their shifts until 6:00am or later. The few who’d been working the pre-dawn hours couldn’t remember anything specific. One thought he’d maybe picked up a young woman with a suitcase around 5:30 but when pressed for details, he couldn’t even remember where he’d dropped her.

By 8:00am, Sterling and Rajesh were back in the apartment, the heat already oppressive despite the early hour. They stood in the empty living room, sweat beading on their foreheads, staring at the note still sitting on the coffee table.

"Tell my father I don’t need his protection. We’re safe now."

"Safe from what?" Rajesh asked, breaking the heavy silence. "Her father was trying to protect her. We were trying to protect her. Who was she running from?"

Sterling picked up the note, turning it over in his hands as if the back might reveal hidden answers. "Maybe she wasn’t running from anyone." He folded the paper carefully and returned it to his pocket. "Maybe she was running toward something. A life where no one could find her. Where she could be totally invisible and control everything."

"Including her friends."

"Especially her friends." Sterling moved to the window, looking out over the street where traffic was starting to build. "Think about it, Raquel and Liam had no idea what she was doing to them. They trusted her completely. Drank whatever she gave them, believed whatever story she told. And now they’re out there somewhere with new faces and new names, and they still don’t know."

Sterling’s phone buzzed, making them both jump. A text from Koker: Keep searching. I’ll send more resources. Spare no expense.

He stared at the message for a long moment, then set the phone down without replying. What was there to say? We failed? Your daughter outsmarted us? She’s gone and we have no idea how to find her?

They’d lost. Not to violence or kidnapping or any of the dangers they’d trained for in their years of security work, but to a teenage girl with her grandmother’s book and a vision of freedom.

"What kind of person does that?" Rajesh asked quietly. "What kind of person drugs her friends and changes them into different people?"

"Someone desperate." Sterling finally looked away from the window. "Or someone who thinks she’s saving them."

"From what?"

"From her father, maybe. From being found. From..." He trailed off, because he didn’t have an answer.

Rajesh stood, brushing off his pants."So what now?"

Sterling looked at the evidence bags on the coffee table—the syringe caps, the single dark hair, the dried iridescent residue carefully scraped onto a cotton swab. Physical proof that something had happened here, but no proof of what, exactly.

"Now?" He set the bags down carefully, handling them like they might shatter. "Now we tell Koker we failed. We file our report, hand over the evidence to whatever lab he wants to send it to, and we hope she’s right."

"About what?"

"That they’re safe." Sterling moved to the window one last time, watching the traffic stream by far below. "Because if she’s wrong, if something happens to them out there with no memories and new faces, we’ll never even know. They could be hurt, lost, exploited, anything could happen, and we’d never hear about it. They’d just be three more missing persons in a country where thousands go missing every year."

"And Mira?"

"Mira made herself disappear so thoroughly that I’m not even sure she exists anymore." Sterling’s voice was flat, drained of emotion. "She probably doesn’t look like that photo on my phone. Probably doesn’t answer to that name. Hell, she probably doesn’t even think of herself as Mira Koker anymore."

Sterling’s phone buzzed again. Another text from Koker: Status?

This time, Sterling replied: No leads. Will continue searching.

It was the truth, even if it was a useless truth. They would search.They would check airlines and train stations and bus terminals for them. They would do everything right.

"Come on," Sterling said finally, pocketing his phone. "Let’s check the airport. Maybe we’ll get lucky."

They both knew they wouldn’t. Luck had nothing to do with this. This was planning, precision, and a teenage girl who’d learned alchemy from her grandmother’s book and used so carefully that not even the best security operatives money could buy could find a trace.