Page 10 of Eden and her Mercenary (Changing of the Guards)

We reached street level and merged onto a main road, the van's damaged exterior drawing curious glances from other drivers despite the late hour. Ryker kept us moving at exactly the speed limit—fast enough to make progress, slow enough to avoid police attention.

"The remaining SUV?" I asked, scanning the traffic behind us.

"Lost them for now," Ryker confirmed. "But they'll regroup. Junction won’t give up easily. "

Harrison had gone quiet, her initial burst of adrenaline apparently fading. She stared at her hands, trembling slightly as the reality of her actions sank in.

"You okay?" I asked softly.

She looked up, a complex mix of emotions crossing her face. "I just threw away fifteen years of research and probably committed career suicide. But yes, I think I'm okay." A small, bitter smile. "Better than I've been in a long time, actually."

Royal moved to the front of the van, leaning between the seats to confer with Ryker. "We can't go directly to the MacGallan estate. Too risky with Junction still hunting us. We need to make sure we've lost them completely."

"What about a decoy?" I suggested, an idea forming. "Something to keep them busy while we get Stella and head to Dr. Chen's clinic."

Harrison straightened. "I can help with that. My access credentials are still active—I can trigger an alert in the Prophecies system, make them think Subject Seven's tracking implant has been detected across town."

Royal and Ryker exchanged glances. "Would that work?" Royal asked.

"Temporarily," Harrison confirmed. "The system is designed to triangulate the implant's signal. I can manipulate it to show false readings." She pulled out her phone. "I just need an internet connection."

"Use this," Ryker handed her a small device. "Secure hotspot. Can't be traced."

As Harrison worked on her phone, I leaned closer to Royal. "We need to call Mack to let him know that we have the transmitter.”

Royal nodded, pulling out his own phone. "I'll call him now and have him meet us halfway. The less time we spend driving with this equipment, the better."

I ran my fingers through my damp hair, my mind racing with everything we'd learned. "I still can't believe what they did to her. Using dogs as weapons, controlling their minds..."

"People have been weaponizing animals for centuries," Harrison said without looking up from her phone. "Carrier pigeons in wartime, dolphins trained to detect mines. But this—neural integration—it crosses a line."

"A line you helped draw," I couldn't help pointing out.

Her fingers paused over the screen. "Yes. A mistake I'm trying to rectify." She met my gaze directly. "Judge me if you want, but right now I'm your best chance at helping Subject—at helping Stella."

Royal finished his call and rejoined us. "Mack's going to meet us at a truck stop about forty miles north. From there, we'll split up—Ryker taking Harrison somewhere safe, while you and I head to Dr. Chen's with the equipment."

"What about Stella?" I asked.

"Declan and Wren are going to transport her," Royal explained. "Three vehicles, three different routes. If Junction is tracking any of us, they won't know which one has Stella."

"Smart," I admitted, impressed by their planning. "But how will Wren handle Stella? She doesn't know her."

"Wren has a way with traumatized animals," Royal assured me. "And the panic room's signal jammers will prevent any remote activation of the implant while she's there."

Harrison looked up from her phone. "Done. I've programmed the system to show Subject Seven's signal moving toward Toronto. They'll chase that for a few hours before realizing it's a false trail."

"Good work," Ryker said, genuine appreciation in his voice. "That should buy us enough time."

The rain had finally stopped, leaving a glistening sheen on the roads as we headed north. I stared out the window at the passing landscape, exhaustion beginning to creep in now that the immediate danger had passed.

"You should rest," Royal suggested quietly, noticing my drooping eyelids. "It's still a long drive to Dr. Chen's."

I shook my head stubbornly. "Can't. Not until I know Stella's safe."

He didn't argue, just shifted closer, his solid presence oddly comforting. "We'll get through this, Eden. All of us, including Stella."

I wanted to believe him—needed to believe him. So much had happened since that midnight call from Margo, setting me on this unexpected path. I'd gone from transporting rescue dogs to stealing military technology, all for one scarred pit bull with intelligent eyes and a white star on her chest.

"Why did you really help me?" I asked suddenly, keeping my voice low.

Royal studied my face, seeming to weigh his response carefully. The van's dim interior cast shadows across his features, but I could see something vulnerable in his eyes—something he typically kept hidden.

"When I was ten," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper, "my stepfather had this dog. Beautiful German Shepherd named Kaiser. That dog was the only thing in that house that showed me any kindness."

I watched him, saying nothing, sensing this wasn't a story he told often.

"One night, my stepfather came home drunk, angrier than usual. Started in on me—fists, belt, whatever was handy." His jaw tightened at the memory. "Kaiser intervened. Bit him. Not bad, just enough to get him to stop."

"What happened?" I asked, though I feared I already knew.

"He shot Kaiser. Right there in front of me." Royal's voice remained steady, but his eyes held decades-old pain. "Then he told me it was my fault. That if I'd been stronger, been better, the dog wouldn't have had to die."

I reached for his hand without thinking, my fingers closing around his. "I'm sorry."

"It's ancient history," he said, though we both knew it wasn't. "Point is, I couldn't save Kaiser.

But maybe I can help save Stella." He met my gaze directly.

"So yeah, that's why I'm here. That's why I jumped into this mess with both feet the moment I saw you with that gun in the motel parking lot, and I wanted to do this.” He took hold of my chin and kissed me.

It wasn't a gentle kiss—it was urgent, desperate, full of the tension and fear we'd both been carrying.

I froze for a split second before responding, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

When we broke apart, breathing heavily, the van had gone silent. I became acutely aware of Ryker studiously focusing on the road ahead and Harrison pretending to be absorbed in her phone .

"I've wanted to do that since you pointed that gun at me," Royal admitted quietly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Not exactly a romantic first meeting," I whispered back, a small smile tugging at my lips despite everything.

"I've never been much for conventional romance."

The moment was interrupted by Ryker clearing his throat. "Truck stop ahead. Five minutes."

Reality crashed back. I reluctantly pulled away from Royal, straightening my disheveled clothes and trying to regain my composure. The neural mapper sat between us, a stark reminder of our mission.

"We should prepare to transfer the equipment," I said, all business again.

Royal nodded, though his eyes lingered on my face. "Right."

The truck stop appeared around the next bend—a brightly lit oasis in the dark countryside. Several semi-trucks were parked for the night, their drivers likely asleep in their cabs or grabbing coffee inside the 24-hour diner.

Ryker pulled around to the back of the lot, away from the main building's lights. Mack's weathered pickup was already waiting, the veterinarian leaning against the hood with his arms crossed.

"Everyone okay?" he asked as we climbed out of the van, his experienced eyes cataloging our various scrapes and signs of exhaustion.

"More or less," Royal replied. "You bring the supplies?"

Mack nodded toward his truck bed, where a tarp covered something bulky. "Everything Dr. Chen requested, plus a few extras I thought might come in handy."

Ryker carefully transferred the neural mapper to Mack's truck while Royal briefed him on what we'd learned. I found myself gravitating toward Harrison, who stood slightly apart from the group, her expression troubled.

"What will you do now?" I asked. "After all this?"

She sighed, gazing out at the darkness beyond the truck stop's lights. "I don't know. I can't go back to Prophecies, obviously. Junction will make sure I never work in neuroscience again."

"You could testify," I suggested. "Expose what they're doing."

"With what proof?" She gestured vaguely. "Everything's classified, locked behind security clearances and non-disclosure agreements. My word against a government contractor with deep pockets and deeper connections."

"We have Stella," I pointed out. "And soon we'll have the implant. "

A spark of something—hope, perhaps—flickered in her eyes.

"Maybe. If Dr. Chen can remove it intact.

That would be irrefutable evidence." She hesitated, then added, "I'd like to be there.

When Dr. Chen performs the procedure. I know the implant better than anyone—how it's integrated, its fail safes. "

I studied her face, searching for any sign of deception. "Why should we trust you?"

"You shouldn't," she admitted candidly. "But you need me. That implant has anti-tampering protocols. If they're not properly deactivated before removal..." She trailed off, her implication clear.

Royal had finished his conversation with Mack and approached us. "Time to move. Ryker will take Dr. Harrison to a safe house we maintain outside Pearl Lake."

"She wants to be present for Stella's surgery," I told him. "Says there are anti-tampering protocols in the implant."

Royal's expression hardened. "Is that true?"

Harrison nodded grimly. "Junction's addition to the project. If unauthorized removal is attempted, the implant delivers a targeted electromagnetic pulse. Essentially fries the surrounding neural tissue."

"Jesus Christ," Royal muttered. "They really thought of everything."

"Not everything," Harrison countered. "I designed the protocol, which means I know how to disable it."

Royal and I exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between us. Finally, he nodded. "Alright, she comes with us to Dr. Chen's. But—" he fixed Harrison with a steely gaze, "—if anything happens to that dog because of you, there won't be a safe house on earth that can protect you."

Harrison met his gaze unflinchingly. "Understood."

We split up as planned, Ryker driving the damaged van to create a false trail, while Royal, Harrison, and I transferred to Mack's truck with the neural mapper. Before departing, Royal pulled his brother aside for a brief, intense conversation that ended with a quick embrace.

"Stay safe," Ryker called as he climbed back into the van.

"You too," Royal replied, his usual confident demeanor slipping just enough to reveal genuine concern.

The drive to Dr. Chen's clinic was tense and mostly silent. Harrison dozed fitfully in the back seat while Royal navigated, following Mack's truck along increasingly remote roads. I fought to stay awake, adrenaline gradually giving way to bone-deep exhaustion.

"You should sleep," Royal said softly, noticing my struggle. "I'll wake you when we arrive. "

I shook my head stubbornly. "Can't. Not until I know Stella's okay."

He reached across the console, taking my hand in his. "She's with Wren. No safer place right now."

I wanted to argue, but exhaustion was winning. My eyes grew heavier, Royal's hand warm and reassuring in mine, as darkness claimed me.