Thunder Over the Terrace

Elena adjusted the brim of her fedora, watching storm clouds bruise the sky purple. The hat had been a mistake—an affectation she'd hoped would make her feel mysterious in this city of confident strangers. Instead, she just felt hidden.

The rooftop terrace at the Orenji Bar was nearly deserted. Lightning struck somewhere beyond the skyline, briefly illuminating the worried set of Marcus's jaw. He hadn't looked at her since they sat down. His iPhone lay face-up on the table between them, screen lighting up every thirty seconds with notifications he kept swiping away.

"You're doing it again," she said, quiet against the rumble of approaching thunder.

"Doing what?"

"Checking. Like you're expecting something. Or someone."

Marcus finally met her eyes. The orange glow from the bar's neon sign turned his skin sickly. "You know who I work for, El."

"I know you're an analyst. I don't know what you actually do on those trips to Singapore."

He laughed, bitter and short. "You really want to know?"

Another flash of lightning—closer this time. The terrace's glass railing cracked with the sudden thunder.

Marcus picked up his iPhone, thumbed the screen, then slid it across the table toward her. "Corporate espionage. That's the polite term. Last month, your company's R&D division became a person of interest."

Elena stared at the device. Her company. Her team's project.

"I'm not here on vacation," Marcus said. "I'm here because you're the easiest way in. But I haven't taken anything yet."

Rain began to fall, warm and heavy. She thought of all the times he'd asked about her work, the late nights she'd gushed about the new encryption protocol. She'd thought he was proud of her.

"You're a spy," she said. "You're literally a spy."

"That's the job. It's not who I am with you."

"Isn't it?"

He looked away. "I turned in my notice yesterday. That's why we're here."

"For what? A goodbye drink?"

"To ask you to disappear with me. New names, new city. They won't like that I walked away, but if we leave tonight..."

Elena picked up her orange cocktail, watched the ice melt. She could hear her phone buzzing in her purse—work calling, probably security alerts, probably already aware someone had been probing their systems. Marcus had been sloppy. Or maybe he'd wanted to get caught.

"Why the hat?" he asked suddenly.

"I bought it the day I realized I was being followed. I thought I was paranoid. Turns out, I was just right."

She stood up, leaving the phone on the table.

"El, wait—"

"You have until sunrise," she said. "Then I call my security team and tell them everything I know about your firm's operations. Fair trade?"

The rain came down harder. She didn't look back as she walked to the elevator, didn't see Marcus reach for the abandoned iPhone, didn't hear him start dialing.

Behind her, lightning struck the building next door, and for a second, the whole world went white.