For good?

      The SUV stopped abruptly in front of an abandoned industrial building. Rusty gates, broken windows, graffiti on the walls — the perfect place to disappear without a trace. “Get out,” Mark said, turning off the engine.       Mica didn’t move. Her fingers clutched at his jacket. “You still haven’t explained why you care about me at all.”       He turned around, and in the light of the streetlamp, his face looked like it was carved out of stone. “Because Wexler killed my brother. And now he wants to kill you.”       She hadn’t expected such bluntness. “So you decided to be my guardian angel?” “He decided to make his plans fail.” He jerked his head toward the building. “It’s safe there.”       Mica slowly slid out of the seat, but didn’t take a step forward. “You worked for his corporation. Why should I believe you?” “Because you don’t have a choice.”       He was right. The streets are deserted, and those who hunted her have clearly not retreated.       She nodded, but made a mental note of every detail: the fire hydrant on the left, the broken bottle at the entrance, the distance to the nearest intersection.       Mark pushed open the rusty door with his shoulder, and they entered the dimness of an abandoned workshop. The interior smelled of engine oil and dust. “No one’s looking here,” he said, leading her between racks of cobwebbed parts. “Because it’s a trap?”       He stopped abruptly and turned to face her. “If I was going to betray you, it would have been enough for five minutes when you were sitting in the back and didn’t even know where I was taking you.”       Mica pursed her lips. Logically. But logic didn’t always beat paranoia. “Who are you really?”       Mark took a worn badge out of his pocket and tossed it to her. “Private security contractor. I used to work for Exon-Cybernetics until I found out that they were testing their developments on humans.”       She caught the token. It was engraved with a name and serial number. “And your brother.”. “Was one of those “tests”.”       Mika took a deep breath. He hated Wexler. But hate is an unreliable ally. “What’s next?”       Mark went to the wall and pulled down the tarp covering the monitors and equipment. “Then we dig his grave.”       Files, diagrams, and photos flashed across the screens. Among them are familiar faces of scientists who also “disappeared” after their discoveries.       Mika felt cold sweat trickle down her back.       She wasn’t the first.       And if she’s not careful, she’ll be the last.