In the heart of London – Surveillance at a glance…

They sprinted down the stairs toward Platform 4, dodging commuters and luggage trolleys. A train sat at the platform, doors open, passengers boarding.
Emma scanned the area. “Tess, we need eyes on Platform 4 now.”
Tess’s voice crackled through. “Working on it… But the Architect’s jamming half the CCTV feeds. I’m blind in sections.”
Jake muttered, “Of course he is.”
Emma pointed. “Jake — there.”
A man in a dark coat stood near the middle carriage, holding a briefcase. He wasn’t boarding. He wasn’t waiting. He was watching.
Jake’s instincts flared. “That’s him.”
Emma shook her head. “No. Too obvious.”
Jake agreed — the Architect never exposed himself like that.
But the man was definitely part of something.
Jake approached slowly, hand near his weapon. “Sir, I need you to—”
The man bolted.
Jake sprinted after him. “Emma — he’s running!”
Emma chased from the flank as the man shoved through the crowd, knocking people aside. He darted toward the end of the platform, toward the maintenance gate.
Jake closed the distance. “Stop!”
The man reached the gate, swiped a stolen access card, and slipped inside.
Jake followed.
Emma was seconds behind.
The door slammed shut behind them, muffling the noise of the station. The maintenance tunnels were dim, narrow, and echoing — a maze beneath the platforms.
Emma drew her weapon. “He’s leading us somewhere.”
Jake nodded. “A trap.”
They moved cautiously, following the sound of hurried footsteps.
Tess’s voice came through, strained. “Guys… I’m picking up a second signal. Stronger. Not the decoy phone. Something else.”
Emma whispered, “Where?”
Tess hesitated. “Directly beneath you.”
Jake froze. “The tunnels.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “Jake… he planted something down here.”
A faint beep echoed through the corridor.
Jake raised his weapon. “There.”
They rounded a corner.
And stopped dead.
The man they’d chased lay on the ground — unconscious, breathing, unharmed.
Beside him, taped to a support beam, was a small device.
A speaker.
It crackled to life.
The Architect’s voice filled the tunnel — calm, amused, close.
Emma scanned the area. “Jake… this isn’t a bomb.”
Jake nodded grimly. “It’s a message.”
The Architect continued:
A second beep echoed — deeper in the tunnel.
Emma turned sharply. “There’s another device.”
Jake moved toward it.
The Architect’s voice followed him.
Jake’s stomach tightened. “What operation?”
The Architect chuckled.
Emma whispered, “Jake… he’s triggering something bigger.”
The Architect’s voice sharpened.
A final beep.
Then silence.
Jake ripped the speaker off the beam and threw it aside.
Emma looked at him. “He’s playing us.”
Jake nodded. “And we’re done playing.”
Emma’s voice hardened. “Then let’s flip the board.”
Jake turned toward the tunnel exit.
“Let’s hunt him.”
Jake and Emma burst out of the maintenance exit and into the morning rush outside King’s Cross. Sirens wailed in the distance.

Police cordons were forming. Something was happening — something big.