Michael stopped precisely at the entrance to the iron gate. The guard already had his hand on the mechanical handle, ready to lock it behind him, but the young man halted, turned on his heels, and walked back toward the table where Lydiane was still gathering her belongings.
Lydiane looked up, visibly confused by his abrupt return. She gripped the strap of her handbag and frowned as she watched him approach.
– Forget something, Michael? – she asked through the intercom, arching an eyebrow.
– No – Michael replied, sitting back down in the metal chair with the same impeccable posture as before. – I need you to do another favor for me.
Lydiane rested her arms on the table, narrowing her eyes analytically.
– Depends on what it is. What do you need?
– I need you to infiltrate FBI Headquarters – Michael said, keeping his voice perfectly linear and low, without the slightest hesitation. – And destroy all physical and digital evidence indicating that I committed the crime that brought me here.
Lydiane's eyes widened, the amusement instantly disappearing from her face. She leaned forward, lowering her voice as much as possible.
– Have you lost your mind? That's completely insane, Michael. We're talking about FBI Headquarters. I could get arrested, or worse, if I try something that stupid. Security there is impenetrable.
Michael completely ignored the objections and warnings about the risks. His eyes remained fixed on hers, cold and focused.
– Will you do it or not?
Lydiane let out a heavy breath, running a hand across her forehead, clearly shaken by the scale of the request.
– I need to think about it... This requires planning, logistics, and the chances of—
– You can trust me – Michael interrupted, his voice firm and devoid of any doubt. – If you get arrested, I will get you out.
Silence settled between them for several long seconds. Lydiane stared at her hands resting on the table, weighing the pros and cons, fully aware of what Michael's mind was capable of planning. Finally, she released a resigned sigh and looked back at him.
– Fine. I'll do it. But on one condition: if I get caught for any reason, I'll say I was forced to do it. That you blackmailed me.
– That's acceptable – Michael agreed immediately, unconcerned by her protective clause. He paused briefly, observing the woman's posture. – Why did you agree to help me?
Lydiane gave a sad smile, her gaze drifting into memories of the past.
– Because you saved me, Michael. Have you forgotten?
Flashback:
Ten years earlier, in a poorly lit alleyway on the industrial outskirts of the city. Lydiane, then seventeen years old, was cornered against a graffiti-covered brick wall. In front of her stood three considerably older men, all in their forties, surrounding her with intimidating postures.
– I already told you, I'm not going to do what you want! – Lydiane exclaimed, her voice trembling but firm in refusal as she tried to keep her distance.
The man leading the group, a rough-featured individual wearing a worn jacket, let out a hostile laugh and reached for his waist, drawing a handgun and aiming it directly at the young woman's chest.
– You're not in a position to negotiate, girl – the man growled, disengaging the safety mechanism.
Lydiane felt her stomach twist. Panic seized her vocal cords as she looked desperately down the deserted street.
– Please... somebody help me! Please! – she pleaded, tears beginning to run down her face.
The man stepped forward, bringing the weapon closer.
– This is the end for you. You should've obeyed when you had the chance.
At the very instant the man prepared to pull the trigger, his posture froze. Before he could react, a precise and violent strike hit the side of his neck near the carotid artery, interrupting blood flow and shutting down his nervous system instantly. The man collapsed onto the concrete ground completely unconscious before he could even release the weapon.
Behind him stood Michael, nineteen years old at the time, dressed in dark clothing and wearing a completely impassive expression, as though he were performing a mechanical task.
The other two men looked at their fallen companion and then at the young man, charging forward in fury. The first attempted to throw a punch toward Michael's face, but Michael sidestepped by mere millimeters, using the momentum to apply a tactical arm lock followed by a sweep that slammed the attacker heavily onto the ground. The third man attempted to grab him from behind, but Michael spun with remarkable agility and delivered a sharp strike to the attacker's solar plexus, knocking the air from his lungs and leaving him doubled over on the ground, neutralized.
The alley fell silent once more, broken only by the sound of Lydiane's ragged breathing. She looked at the three unconscious men and then at the young man who had saved her. Walking toward him with slow, trembling steps, she approached Michael.
– Thank you... Thank you so much – she said, her voice thick with adrenaline. Acting on pure gratitude, she leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Michael's cheek.
Michael showed neither surprise nor discomfort. He simply blinked once, registering the physical contact.
Lydiane wiped her face with the sleeve of her coat and attempted a smile.
– What's your name? And... could you give me your number?
Michael assessed the situation for a brief moment, confirming that the environment was secure.
– Michael – he replied succinctly. He recited the numerical sequence of his phone number slowly and clearly.
As soon as she confirmed that she had memorized the digits, Michael turned his back without saying another word, walking toward the end of the alley and gradually disappearing beneath the dim glow of the streetlights.
Back in the visitation room, Lydiane blinked and returned to the present, adjusting the collar of her overcoat.
– I wouldn't have half the life I have today if you hadn't shown up in that alley. I pay my debts, Michael.
Michael gave a slight nod and rose from the iron chair once and for all.
– The data for the infiltration will be processed during the next phase. Be prepared.
He turned and walked toward the iron gate, where the guard finally inserted the keys into the lock, allowing him to pass back into the cell block.