# Rain had been falling just long enough to turn the alley black.

Not heavy rain. The irritating kind. Fine, cold, almost weightless, hanging beneath the lamps and collecting along every exposed edge of Aida’s armor.

Water crawled from one of the helmet ears and dropped onto her shoulder.

She ignored it.

Across the narrow service road, ten stories of glass and concrete rose above the neighboring buildings. Most of the offices had gone dark hours ago.

Three windows remained lit on the upper floors.

One belonged to the target.

Aida stood beneath a rusted fire escape, far enough into shadow that anyone passing the mouth of the alley would register nothing more than another patch of darkness.

Her visor painted the building in quiet layers.

Heat.

Movement.

Distance.

Nothing unexpected.

That was the point.

Tonight was only a recce.

Confirm the subject’s routine. Verify the access pattern. Identify security. Map the approaches and exits.

Observe.

Leave.

Someone else would decide what happened afterward.

Her comm clicked once.

_“Felix-1 to Felix-2.”_

“Go, One.”

_“We’re moving to your position.”_

Aida checked the western entrance to the alley.

“Copy.”

_“Two mikes.”_

“Position’s clean.”

_“Keep it that way.”_

The channel closed.

Aida smiled faintly inside the helmet.

“Always do.”

Above her, the target moved past one of the illuminated windows.

Her visor caught the motion and boxed it automatically.

One human figure.

Male.

Correct floor.

Correct office.

Everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

Then the light went out.

Aida straightened.

Not because darkness was unusual.

Because it happened too suddenly.

She touched two fingers to the side of her helmet.

“Felix-2 to Felix-1.”

No answer yet.

A faint vibration passed through the building.

Not an explosion.

Barely even a sound.

Just enough movement to register through the wall beside her.

Then something dropped past the fire escape.

Human shape.

Fast.

Aida looked up.

Ten stories.

No line.

No chute.

No warning over comms.

Her claws extended before conscious thought caught up.

Metal slipped from the gloves with a quiet mechanical snap.

The figure dropped through the last stretch of rain and hit the pavement.

Water exploded outward from the landing.

One foot touched first.

Then the other.

Knees folded deeply. Hips dropped. One hand came down against the wet pavement as the force travelled through the body instead of stopping at it.

The motion compressed into stillness.

No stumble.

No collapse.

No damage to the pavement.

Aida was already facing her.

Weight forward.

Claws ready.

For perhaps half a second, neither moved.

The woman raised her head.

Dark hair.

Civilian clothing.

No armor.

No visible weapon.

Then the security lamp above the service door flickered.

Light crossed her face.

Her eyes flashed amber.

Not simply colored.

Reflective.

Aida froze.

The same light caught her own eyes beneath the helmet.

Amber answered amber across the alley.

Her claws slid quietly back into their housings.

Aida looked the woman over properly now.

Approximately her height.

Build within familiar parameters.

Movement well outside ordinary human capability.

The eyes—

There was no mistaking the eyes.

Aida looked again.

No helmet.

No armor.

No modular tail.

No unit markings.

Nothing.

The question came out automatically.

“Where’s your gear?”

The woman stared at her.

Then she stood.

Aida’s visor issued a faint alert.

`SUBJECT FLOOR — ACTIVITY CHANGE`

She glanced upward.

When she looked back, the woman was already walking away.

“Hey.”

No response.

Aida frowned.

“Hey!”

Nothing.

“The fuck are you going?!”

The woman kept walking.

Aida took one step forward and stopped.

There was no mission requirement to detain her.

No hostile act.

No threat.

And C.A.A.T.s did not casually test one another.

Capability was assumed.

Whoever that woman was, Aida had just watched her fall ten stories and land clean.

Starting something simply to satisfy curiosity would have been stupid.

The woman disappeared around the corner.

Was she Spec9? Doubt started nagging at her.

Thinking back, **civilian didn’t fit.** She had displayed no visible surprise. That bothered Aida more than the fall.

Most civilians who discovered a fully equipped C.A.A.T. waiting in a dark alley tended to react somehow.

Fear.

Confusion.

Running was popular.

This woman simply looked at her.

At the helmet.

At the ears.

At the articulated tail behind her.

At the eyes.

The assessment lasted perhaps a second.

Aida opened comms.

“Felix-2 to Command. Possible Spec9 off-grid.”

Silence.

Then:

_“Repeat.”_

“Possible Spec9 off-grid.”

_“Your team?”_

“No.”

_“Identify unit.”_

“I can’t.”

Pause.

_“Explain.”_

Aida looked toward the corner.

“No kit. Civilian clothes. Female. Approximately five-seven. Amber ocular reflection.”

The reply came quickly.

_“You’re identifying a civilian as Specimen 9?”_

Aida’s jaw tightened.

“…I think I’d know a civilian when I see one, don’t you think?”

Silence.

Then:

_“Basis?”_

Aida gave a humorless laugh.

“…She had the same eyes as mine, dammit.”

Another pause.

_“What was she doing?”_

Aida looked ten stories up.

“Landing.”

_“Clarify.”_

“She came off the roof.”

_“Using?”_

“Gravity.”

Silence.

Aida waited.

_“No chute?”_

“No.”

_“Line?”_

“No.”

_“Visible assist?”_

“Leather boots. Recons. About size eight.”

Some things, apparently, still had to stay dry in the rain.

_“Condition after landing?”_

Aida looked at the wet pavement.

“You mean aside from her wet Recons?”

Nothing but rainwater.

“She walked away.”

Another voice entered the channel.

Older.

Calmer.

_“Felix-2, did the contact engage?”_

“Negative.”

_“Did you?”_

“Negative.”

_“Did she identify herself?”_

“No.”

_“Did she recognize you?”_

Aida hesitated.

That question mattered.

She replayed the woman’s face.

No surprise at the armor.

No curiosity about the helmet.

No hesitation at the tail.

Nothing.

“Yes.”

_“How certain?”_

“She knew what she was looking at.”

Long pause.

_“Maintain position. Do not pursue.”_

Aida’s modular tail gave one irritated movement behind her.

“I wasn’t going to.”

_“Reason?”_

She looked toward the empty corner.

“I’m not my fucking sister’s keeper. That’s your job.”

The channel went silent.

Footsteps approached from the western alley mouth.

Known cadence.

Known signatures.

Three friendlies.

Exactly the arrival Aida had expected before someone fell out of the sky.

Raye emerged first.

Sheila behind her.

Ana last.

Raye looked at Aida.

Then at the wet patch where the stranger had landed.

Then ten stories upward.

“What happened?”

Aida pointed toward the corner.

“Spec9.”

Raye stared at her.

“Whose?”

Aida looked back.

“That,” she said, “is apparently the problem.”

A soft alert appeared across all four visors.

`PRIMARY SUBJECT STATUS CHANGE`

Raye opened the operational feed.

A beat passed.

Then another.

The target’s biometrics had gone flat.

Nobody spoke.

Aida slowly looked toward the dark office above them.

Then toward the alley where the woman had disappeared.

Raye broke the silence.

“We were only here for recce.”

“I know.”

“Command knew that.”

“I know.”

Sheila looked between them.

“So who killed the target?”

Rain ticked against four helmets.

Aida said nothing.

Across the alley, a cat stepped from beneath a parked car.

It stopped.

Looked briefly at the four armored women.

Then continued around the same corner.

Aida watched it disappear.

She opened the command channel.

“Felix-2 to Command.”

_“Go.”_

“You may want to pull every legacy Specimen 9 file you still have.”

Pause.

_“Reason?”_

Aida looked once more toward the tenth floor.

Then toward the corner.

“Because I think a Spec9 we don’t know about just completed a mission we haven’t even been given yet.”

Silence.

This time, Command did not question her identification.

_“Stand by.”_

Aida looked at Raye.

Raye looked back.

Neither said anything.

Somewhere beyond the alley, the city continued exactly as though nothing unusual had happened.

Rain fell.

Traffic moved.

A ferry sounded in the distance.

And an unidentified woman with the same eyes as theirs disappeared into Istanbul.

**END SIGNAL**