Episode 15: Masked Intentions
The encrypted signal had come through scrambled, but two words stood out:
"Project Architect."
Tunde tapped rapidly at his holo-keyboard while chewing the end of a pen like it was a high-stakes snack. "Okay, bad news — there's a mole in the government feeding data to the Architect. Good news — they're going to be at tonight's Unity Gala."
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Unity Gala. As in… tuxedos, dresses, and tiny food with sticks?"
Tunde gave a finger-gun. "And high-level spies. Also, they're serving that weird glowing blue drink again. Might be radioactive. Or minty. No one knows."
Lukas entered the room, tossing two sleek black boxes onto the table. "You two are going in. Martins. Zahara."
Zahara perked up. "Ooooh. Spy mission and dress-up? This is already my favorite mission."
Martins looked less excited. "Do I have to wear a tux?"
Tunde leaned in. "No. You get to wear a tux. Big difference, bro."
---
Later that night...
The Unity Gala was a shimmering display of futuristic opulence — chrome pillars, AI-powered waiters, ambient light from floating orbs. The elite of society mingled while orchestral synths played softly in the background.
Martins walked in, dressed in a custom-fit black tuxedo, trying to ignore the earpiece in his ear and Tunde whispering, "Don't trip. Don't trip. Okay now blink. Smooth. You're a statue of cool."
Zahara descended the steps in a midnight-blue gown that shimmered like starlight. Every head turned.
Martins blinked. "You look…"
Zahara smirked. "Say it and risk sounding cheesy."
"I was gonna say dangerous."
"Oh. That's acceptable." She linked her arm with his. "Let's go spy on rich people."
---
As they moved through the crowd, scanning for their target, they made conversation — part cover, part something more.
"So, do all your missions involve tuxedos and high heels?" Zahara asked.
Martins grinned. "Only the ones that end with saving the world and dancing with beautiful women."
Zahara laughed. "Well played, Mr. Bodyguard. But let's focus — I just spotted our mole."
She discreetly pointed to a tall, well-dressed man at the bar, speaking into a silver bracelet. "That's Senator Kalu. Dad trusted him."
"Then he's either very good at lying…" Martins said, slipping into protective mode.
"Or very blackmailed," Zahara added.
They moved closer, syncing comms with Tunde, who quickly cracked into the Senator's bracelet.
"Oh, wow," Tunde muttered. "Guys — he's sending real-time data to a hidden node. Someone's watching through him."
Just then, Senator Kalu noticed Zahara. His eyes widened with recognition — and panic.
"I think we've been made," Zahara said, her smile never breaking.
"Then let's dance," Martins replied, grabbing her hand and spinning her onto the ballroom floor — just as security began to close in.