She smiled, a flash of something both bitter and relieved. “I’m done. I’m done with the game. Give it to Renata. Let her hide it where no one can ever find it.”
The rain stopped. The city exhaled.
We drove to Renata’s safe house: a converted warehouse on the edge of the industrial district. Inside, Renata waited, a calm presence amidst the storm of my adrenaline.
Project GON, according to the leaked documents Renata had secured, was a prototype nanotech weapon capable of rewriting genetic code on a massive scale. In the wrong hands, it could be used to create bio‑engineered diseases, or to rewrite the DNA of a population to make them subservient. The world needed someone to keep that technology from ever seeing the light of day. The night of the party, rain hammered against the glass façade of the Gorgon. The building’s lobby pulsed with a red carpet, a line of flashing cameras, and a host of bodies dressed in designer suits and gowns. I slipped in through the service entrance, badge in hand, and made my way to the private elevator. The doors slid open with a soft sigh, revealing a narrow shaft that led straight to the 24th floor. Private.24.07.04.Barbie.Rous.And.Renata.Fox.Gon...
Renata slid a small envelope across the table. Inside: a floor plan, a list of guests, and a single photograph—a woman with platinum hair and a cheekbone so sharp it could cut glass. The caption read:
She was the kind of woman who could make a room feel both safe and threatened, all at once. She had vanished after a botched extraction in Nairobi, leaving behind a trail of rumors, half‑finished dossiers, and a mysterious case that seemed to be the key to something called Project GON.
“We’re all playing,” I said, my eyes never leaving hers. She smiled, a flash of something both bitter and relieved
She clapped slowly, the sound echoing through the vaulted ceiling. “Clever,” she said, admiration evident in her tone. “You’re good, Private. But now you have something that could change everything.”
“I’m not a stranger,” I replied, sliding a thin, black card from my pocket. “I’m the man Renata hired.”
I tipped my hat, the rain still drumming against the warehouse roof. “Just another case, Renata. Just another case.” Give it to Renata
The Sky Lounge was a dimly lit cavern of plush leather chairs, low tables, and a bar that glimmered with amber liquid. A soft jazz trio played in the corner, the saxophone wailing like a lonely lover. In the far corner, a woman sat alone, her back to the room, a slender silhouette against a wall of floor‑to‑ceiling windows. Her hair was the shade of midnight, cascading in soft waves; her outfit was a perfect replica of the iconic Barbie dress— a flawless pink satin mini, a tiny white collar, and matching high‑heeled shoes that caught the light like a promise.
Barbie’s gaze flicked toward me, a flicker of recognition crossing her face. She smiled, a grin that seemed to say, “You’re not supposed to be here, but you’re welcome.” She sauntered over, her heels clicking a rhythm that resonated with the jazz.
“Renata Fox sent me,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Available on iTunes and Google Play
