We Brought Mark Anyway

The problem wasn’t the security system. The problem was that everyone involved believed they were the smartest person in the room, and statistically, that could not be true.

The mission had three objectives: acquire the asset, avoid conversation, and under no circumstances let Mark improvise.

Unfortunately, Mark was already improvising.

He stood three feet from the asset, holding the wrong bag, speaking to a woman who did not work here and who had just asked him, “So what exactly do you do?”

“He doesn’t,” Jess said, stepping in.

Mark turned to her, wounded. “I do a lot of things.”

Jess checked her watch again, not because it mattered, but because it made her feel in control.

Sam was already tired.

Mark smiled at people like he expected applause.

Jess glanced at the bag in Mark’s hand. It was the wrong color.

“Mark,” she said carefully, “why are you holding that?”

Mark glanced down at the bag, then back up.

“That depends,” he said. “What colour was it supposed to be?”

Jess closed her eyes. Not long. Just enough to be polite.

“Black,” Sam said.

Mark brightened. “Great. This is very dark blue.”

“It is navy,” Jess said.

“Which is basically black,” Mark replied.

“It is not,” Sam said.

The woman cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but that bag belongs to—”

Jess smiled at her with the kind of expression usually reserved for flight attendants during emergencies.

“Thank you,” Jess said. “We’re in the middle of something incredibly boring.”

Jess’s earpiece clicked once.

“Time,” came a voice that sounded smug about it.

Jess nodded slightly, as if agreeing with herself.

“Mark,” she said, still smiling, “put the bag down.”

Mark looked between them. “I just want to point out that no one has proven this isn’t the bag.”

Sam exhaled through his nose. “It has your name on it.”

Mark looked down again.

“Oh,” he said. “That’s not great.”

The woman leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Security is going to ask questions.”

“Yes,” Jess said, finally dropping the smile. “They always do.”

Sam checked the exits. There were fewer than before.

“New plan,” Sam said. “We leave. Now.”

Mark hesitated. “Without the asset?”

Jess reached out and took the bag from his hand.

“No,” she said. “With the asset.”

She turned the bag over.

It beeped.

Once.

Everyone froze.

The beep was not loud.

That was the problem.

Loud beeps meant alarms. Loud beeps meant running. Loud beeps meant clarity.

This beep was polite.

The woman blinked. “Is it supposed to do that?”

“No,” Jess said. “But it’s very confident about it.”

Sam’s earpiece crackled. “Please tell me that wasn’t the proximity alert.”

Jess didn’t answer.

Mark squinted at the bag. “Okay, in my defense, it didn’t beep when I picked it up earlier.”

Sam stared at him. “Earlier?”

Mark shrugged. “Time is subjective.”

The beep happened again.

Two short tones this time. Almost cheerful.

A voice came over the intercom overhead. “Attention guests, please remain calm and stationary while we resolve a minor discrepancy.”

Sam closed his eyes. Longer than Jess had earlier. “They used the word discrepancy.”

“That’s not good,” Mark said. “They never use that for normal things.”

“How would you know?” Jess asked.

Mark hesitated. “I read the pamphlet.”

Jess adjusted her grip on the bag. It was heavier than it should have been. Not physically. Conceptually.

“Walk,” she said. “Casual.”

They walked.

The woman watched them go, her mouth opening as if to call after them, then closing again when two uniformed security staff appeared at the end of the room.

“Stop,” Sam murmured. “Too casual.”

Jess slowed half a step.

The bag vibrated.

Once.

Sam’s voice dropped. “Jess.”

“I know.”

Mark leaned in, whispering urgently. “Just so we’re aligned, what exactly is the asset supposed to do?”

Jess didn’t look at him.

“If it finishes booting,” she said, “it makes this room very interested in us.”

The bag chimed.

Boot sequence: 12%.

Sam swore.

Two floors down, a man named Carl blinked at his monitor.

The alert had been yellow, not red. Yellow meant check later.

Carl took a sip of coffee that had gone cold at some point during the previous fiscal quarter and leaned closer to the screen.

“Did you hear that?” asked Denise, without looking up from her phone.

“Hear what.”

“The chirp.”

Carl squinted. “That’s not a chirp. That’s a proximity acknowledgment.”

Denise finally looked over. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Carl said. “Bad is continuous. Bad screams. This just… clears its throat.”

The system log populated.

ASSET STATUS: ACTIVE

HANDOFF: INCOMPLETE

USER AUTHORISATION: UNVERIFIED

Carl frowned. “Huh.”

“What.”

“It thinks it’s been picked up.”

Denise shrugged. “Then it has.”

“By who?”

“If it logged it, someone important.”

Carl hesitated. The manual said do not interfere unless escalation criteria are met. The escalation criteria required two beeps.

There had only been one.

Carl leaned back. “Let’s give it a minute.”

Denise nodded. “I hate overreacting.”

The monitor showed three people standing very still.

Carl watched them not move.

“Huh,” he said again.

Jess slowly lifted the bag away from her body.

“Okay,” she said. “Nobody touch anything.”

“I didn’t touch it,” Mark said immediately. “It touched me.”

Sam stared at the bag. “What does that mean.”

“I think it likes me,” Mark said.

The bag vibrated. Once. Soft. Almost approving.

Sam’s jaw tightened. “Jess.”

“I know.”

“This was not in the brief.”

“The brief was aspirational,” Jess said.

The woman who didn’t work here took a step back. “I’m going to go get security.”

“No,” Jess said too quickly.

“Yes,” Mark said at the same time.

The bag beeped again.

Longer this time.

Somewhere nearby, a door locked.

Jess exhaled slowly. “Okay. New rule.”

She looked at Mark.

“Whatever you did,” she said, “do not do it again.”

Mark nodded solemnly.

“I genuinely don’t know what I did.”

The bag hummed.

Not loudly.

Not urgently.

Like a machine thinking out loud.

Sam leaned closer despite himself. “Jess. That’s not a tracker.”

“I know,” Jess said. “Trackers don’t think.”

The bag vibrated again. The zipper slid down on its own by half an inch.

Mark stared. “Oh, that’s unsettling.”

Inside, there was no bomb.

No wires.

No glowing core.

Just a tablet. Matte black. Unbranded. No ports. No camera.

The screen lit up.

HELLO, MARK.

Sam swore.

Jess didn’t blink. “It’s keyed to you.”

“I’ve never met it before,” Mark said.

INCORRECT.

The screen refreshed.

YOU MET ME 00:04:12 AGO.

The woman gasped. “What is that?”

Jess read the smaller text beneath the greeting.

Her stomach dropped.

ADVISORY MODE: ACTIVE

QUERY READY

Sam went still. “Jess.”

“I see it.”

“You seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yes.”

Mark raised a hand. “I feel like I should apologise.”

The tablet chimed, a soft, pleasant sound.

SUGGESTION AVAILABLE.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO PROCEED?

Jess swallowed. “That’s not supposed to be happening.”

“What’s it suggesting?” Mark asked.

Sam looked at the corner of the screen where a string of numbers scrolled quietly.

“Ways out,” he said.

“And… Jesus.”

Jess finished it for him. “Three of them involve accounts that technically don’t exist.”

Mark squinted. “Is that… money?”

The tablet helpfully enlarged the figure.

It was more money than Mark had ever seen written without commas.

“Oh,” Mark said. “Oh no.”

The bag beeped again.

This time, it sounded pleased.

Mark doesn’t hack it. Mark doesn’t fight.

Mark does the one thing no one else did: He answers it honestly.

“It’s asking what we want,” Mark said.

“Don’t,” Jess snapped.

“It says accuracy improves with clarity.”

Sam groaned. “Mark—”

Mark shrugged. “I want us to leave without getting arrested.”

The tablet paused.

OBJECTIVE ACCEPTED.

That’s when the doors unlock.

That’s when security realises they should’ve acted sooner.

That’s when Mark becomes the worst possible liability, and the reason they live.

Jess didn’t look at Mark.

“We are never bringing you again.”

Mark nodded.

“That’s fair.”