(Frankie's POV)
The compound burned behind her, smoke curling up into the night sky like a secret escaping.
Frankie walked through it without looking back.
She popped out her earbuds-"Square Hammer" by Ghost fading out just as the bass dropped-and paused the playlist on her phone. The sound of silence hit her like a punch. She hated it.
Music made the violence feel manageable. Like a soundtrack to a movie she didn't remember signing up for.
She reached the treeline, where her motorcycle waited. Matte black. Silent. Hidden under camo netting and shielded tech that scrambled drone scans.
She didn't ride it fast. Not tonight. Just smooth. Fluid. The hum of the engine was the only thing keeping her pulse even.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled up to the bunker.
Technically it wasn't hers. Technically, it didn't exist.
The door scanned her face, hand, heat signature. Unlocked with a heavy click. Inside: steel, cold lights, weapons on the walls, and a terminal that looked like it could break into NORAD if she wanted.
She sat.
Boots still on.
Hair still tied back.
She cracked her neck once before typing in her access code.
Logged in as: F.VALE.
Clearance: Ghost.
Accessing: Fontaine Surveillance Logs.
Frankie scrolled.
Val had her fingers in every file. Every operative. Every whisper of corruption wrapped in patriotism.
But none of it surprised her anymore.
She already knew about the next Thunderbolts op. She knew where Val was sending them. Who they were targeting. What decoy would distract them. What real objective Val wanted quietly destroyed.
She knew because she'd hacked Val's mainframe months ago. Top-level access. No trace. No trail.
She wasn't following the Thunderbolts.
She was protecting them.
Even if they didn't know it.
Even if they never could.
Frankie leaned back in her chair, eyes flickering over the encrypted maps, mission drafts, classified kill lists.
Her voice was a whisper to no one.
"I'm not a hero. I'm not part of your team. I'm just the thing keeping your ghosts from catching up to you."
She opened her next playlist.
Skimmed past Bodies. Past Ghost. Landed on something slower. Grittier.
Tomorrow was another mission.
And she'd be there.
Right on time.
YOU ARE READING
Code Name: Untraceable
FanfictionShe's not on the roster. She's not in the system. She's not even supposed to be alive. Every mission the Thunderbolts run, she's there-appearing out of nowhere, tearing through enemies like a storm, then vanishing without a trace. One time? Coincide...
