The static-laced confession hung in the air, pressing down on Janna. Mika’s voice, raw and panicked, echoed from the small, proprietary device, tearing through her world with the force of a tectonic shift. *It’s me. I’m The Engineer.* The words were a brand, searing themselves into her mind, obliterating every memory of trust, every shared laugh, every late-night design session. Air scraped in her throat, dry and thin. Stellan’s hand, still covering hers on the data interface, tightened imperceptibly. His gaze, once focused on the pulsing bug, now snapped to her, sharp and assessing. The silent room, moments ago thick with shared tension and dawning understanding, now thrummed with a different kind of dread. Before either of them could utter a sound, the heavy, reinforced door to the design suite hissed open. Three operatives, clad in the sleek, dark-grey uniforms of Kallas tactical staff, entered with practiced speed. Their sidearms were holstered, but their expressions were grim, their movements precise. The lead guard, a stern-faced woman with tightly braided hair, held a comm unit to her ear. “Sir, signal confirmed. Source identified as Mikael Ranta, co-owner of Saari-Ranta Designs. We have his last known coordinates.” Her eyes, cold and efficient, darted to Janna, then to the glowing device. “Orders, Mr. Kallas?” Stellan's jaw locked as tendons corded in his neck. His gaze, however, remained fixed on Janna's pale face, taking in the fury hardening beneath her shock. His voice, when he finally spoke, was low, calm, yet edged with steel. “Hold. I want a secure comms link established. Volumetric projection, high-fidelity, encrypted channel. Direct to Mikael Ranta’s location.” The lead guard hesitated, a flicker of professional defiance in her eyes. “Sir, with all due respect, a direct comms channel poses an operational hazard. Standard protocol dictates immediate apprehension and interrogation by an escort unit.” “My orders,” Stellan stated, his voice now devoid of any warmth, “are clear. Establish the link.” He looked at Janna again, a silent question in his gaze. She met it, her gaze hardened with wounded resolve. She had to hear it from him. She *had* to. The tactical detail moved with trained efficiency, deploying a portable volumetric emitter. The air shimmered, coalescing into a shimmering blue rectangle. The lead guard tapped her comm. “Establishing secure link, Mr. Ranta. Your location has been compromised. Do not attempt to disconnect.” Minutes crawled by, each second an eternity. Janna felt a tremor begin in her hands, slowly spreading through her body. Her best friend. Her partner. The man who had stood by her through every professional battle, every personal setback. *The Engineer.* The moniker, once a distant threat, now tasted like ash in her mouth. She could feel Stellan beside her, a solid, grounding presence, but even his proximity offered little comfort against this specific, intimate wound. Then, the blue light solidified. Mika Ranta’s face appeared, life-sized and unnervingly clear, hovering in the center of the design suite. He was in his office, Janna recognized the familiar, slightly cluttered background of schematics and model prototypes. But his usual calm demeanor was shattered. His pupils dilated, rimmed in red, shadowed with exhaustion and fear. His usually neat hair was disheveled. He looked less like a corporate saboteur and more like a man pushed to the absolute edge. His gaze fell on Janna first, and hot nausea churned in her stomach. His face crumpled. “Janna,” he breathed, his voice hoarse, completely unlike the confident partner she knew. “I… I didn’t want you to find out like this.” Stellan remained silent, a formidable, unmoving sentinel beside Janna, his presence a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. His detail had fanned out, their weapons now subtly unholstered, their eyes fixed on the projection. Janna found her voice, a strained whisper. “Mika. What have you done?” The question sounded tiny against years of shared blueprints and stolen studio coffee. He flinched, as if she had physically struck him. “The Covenant,” he began, his gaze darting nervously to Stellan, then back to Janna. “They… they approached me years ago. Before Saari-Ranta. When we were still at the Academy. They had leverage. Something stupid. A mistake I made when debt was crushing me. They threatened to expose it, ruin my career before it even began. Ruin *us*.” His voice cracked. “They said if I didn’t cooperate, they’d make sure neither of us ever designed a ventilation shaft, let alone a building. And they made it clear… they’d start with you.” Janna stared, uncomprehending. A youthful mistake? What could be so bad? “What mistake, Mika? What could they possibly have had on you?” He shook his head, a frantic tremor. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is… I had to agree. I had to become The Engineer. But I swear, Janna, I never wanted to hurt you. Everything I did… I did to protect you. To protect *us*.” (JOLT 1) “Protect me?” Janna’s voice rose, laced with bitter disbelief. “You planted listening devices in our own firm! You’ve been feeding the Covenant information, letting them try to kill Stellan!” “No!” he cried, his blue projection wavering with his distress. “Not everything! I sabotaged their worst attempts. I altered schematics, introduced subtle delays, pointed them towards dead ends. The drone attack on the island, the sniper… those were the Covenant’s independent operatives, using my general intel, but I designed the countermeasures, the *real* ones, that Stellan's systems would use against them. I made sure their attacks would fail, or at least be contained. I only gave them enough to maintain my cover, to keep them from coming after *you* directly.” He took a shaky breath. “They’re planning something huge. A full-scale assault. During the critical foundation pour for the fortress. They have explosives. My designs. I can give you the deactivation codes. I can tell you where they’re placed, how to disarm them. Just… just let me help. One last time.” Janna looked at him, her mind reeling. The deactivation codes. His designs. He was offering a way out, a chance to stop the impending catastrophe. But could she trust him? Could she ever trust him again? Before she could answer, Stellan stepped forward, his silhouette cutting a severe line against the blue glow of Mika’s image. His voice, calm and steady, was a chilling counterpoint to Mika’s panic. “Your signal, Mikael Ranta,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly, “is not coming from your office tower in Kuusamo. My perimeter teams tracked it. It’s broadcasting from the primary concrete manufacturing plant for Kallasvaara. The one supplying the foundation pour.” Mika’s transmission froze, his stare pinning in sudden terror. The fragile composure he had tried to project shattered completely, leaving him looking cornered and hollow. Stellan’s gaze remained fixed on Mika’s face, a slow, dawning comprehension spreading across his own features. The implications clicked into place with a horrifying precision. He looked at Janna, his eyes dark with a chilling realization. (JOLT 2) “He’s not telling us how to stop the attack. He’s telling us where the bomb already is.”

Unstable Alliances