Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

"Wicked" Pt-3

Palm Jumeirah, Dubai - Midnight.

The lights inside the mansion flickered, once-just a glitch, a flutter of voltage-but Rose's pulse skipped all the same. It always did now. The walls felt too close. The air, too quiet. No house this beautiful should feel like a cage, but hers did. Behind its manicured gardens and imported marble, the mansion wasn't a home. It was a gilded prison.

Massimo had made sure of that.

She hadn't been allowed to leave in weeks. Her phone was replaced. Her laptop filtered. The staff now wore polite smiles that never met their eyes. Rose had grown used to surveillance: the cameras hidden in chandeliers, the microphones embedded in vent grilles, the locks that clicked shut when they weren't supposed to.

But she still had one ghost left in the machine.

She padded barefoot into the darkened study, the only room she was never searched in. Inside the antique desk drawer was a tiny circuit board connected to a hidden port-one she'd built herself back when she still had freedom. It looked like a piece of the HVAC system, but under the hood was a different story.

She was about to use her only remaining ally: an old AI security system she had personally installed before her staff were replaced. It's disguised under the house's climate control and lighting apps-Massimo's men never even noticed it.

Late at night, she writes a command.
A hidden SOS, encrypted and buried under code.
She can't name herself, can't give details.
Just:

Her fingers trembled as she typed into the dim screen.

>High-value civilian. Palm Jumeirah. Hostile containment. Request immediate covert extraction.

She uploads it to an old abandoned GitHub repo registered under a pseudonym she once shared with a boy who used to sit at the back of her chemistry class.

Simon Riley.

The message was anonymous. There was no name, no coordinates. Just metadata buried in lines of an old GitHub repository registered under a long-forgotten pseudonym.

A joke. A nickname from school. One she had once shared with a boy who never smiled.

She didn't even know if he was still alive.

She hit send.

And hoped the wind still remembered her name.

Location: Undisclosed SAS Safehouse, Northern England

Simon was SAS now. Special Forces.
Callsign: Ghost.

The alert came through on a cold Thursday night.

He monitors that GitHub repo out of habit. It's nothing but sentiment, a scar he keeps reopening.
He hasn't checked it in years.
Until he does.

Simon Riley sat in the quiet glow of his monitor, the rain painting war patterns against the window behind him. He barely touched the internet. Except for this.

He hadn't checked the repo in years. It was a dead habit, something he did every few months. Nostalgia with no reward.

Until he saw it.

> Last push: 2 hours ago.

Encrypted within the code wasn't just a distress call.

It was her.

Rose.

He didn't breathe for nearly a full minute.

Ghost stood slowly, fingers curling into fists as a cold burn lit up in his chest. He hadn't heard her name since he'd buried it. Since the night he left without a goodbye.