Page 57

Myall

As the Enforcer patrols the corridors, his eyes remain fixed on a dataport in his hand. He seems lost in the information displayed on the screen, not paying attention to his surroundings.

My mind begins racing, trying to figure out the best way to knock him out before he gets a chance to sound the alarm and ruin our entire mission.

Ziva’s eyes meet mine, her hands gesturing erratically.

A quick hand signal to the others, and we double back, my heart thundering in my chest as we pull back down the corridor.

The purposeful footsteps stop, as if the Enforcer senses something amiss.

His gaze sweeps the corridor right as we dart around the corner and out of his direct line of sight.

For a heart-stopping moment, I fear he might have spotted our movement.

But then his footsteps resume their steady gait as he continues on his patrol, oblivious to our presence.

As soon as he is out of sight, Ziva grabs my arm, panic flashing in her eyes.

“We need to move fast,” she murmurs, keeping her voice as low as possible. “He’s going to loop back this way.”

Nodding decisively, my mind already working on a plan, I give my orders. “Jorel, you take the left side,” I command quietly. “Jarek and I will flank him from the right. The rest of you stay put.”

We split up without hesitation, each of us moving silently towards the spot where we last saw the Enforcer disappear. The rush of adrenaline makes my muscles tense, my stomach in knots.

Peering around the corner, my pulse thrums in my ears as I catch sight of the Enforcers black uniform.

He’s walking with purpose, oblivious to the danger lurking behind him as he continues gazing at his dataport.

With a swift nod to Jarek, we move on silent feet in perfect synchronization, closing the distance between us and our target.

As we approach from both sides, I see Jorel out of the corner of my eye, his movements slow and controlled as he silently approaches. I stealthily position myself opposite him and Jarek, eyes locked on the Enforcer who is yet to notice our presence.

Some guard.

I nod and in one seamless motion, we strike. Jarek lunges forward, his meaty hand clamping over the Enforcers mouth to stifle any cries for help. Jorel and I move swiftly to restrain him, ensuring he can’t raise an alarm or access his weapon.

We overpower and disarm him, securing his unconscious body in the stairwell. I hush the guys with a finger to my lips as we loop back towards the others by the control room door, praying that they are unharmed.

Ziva visibly relaxes, her tense shoulders slumping as she spots the three of us walking towards the group, unharmed.

“It’s your turn,” I whisper to Arden, gesturing towards the wall where the biometric scanner is located.

I watch in awe as Ardens fingers fly over the dataport, moving with such speed that it’s almost like a dance—each tap a calculated movement, each swipe of her finger bypassing layers of security with ease.

The machines hum around us, their distant buzz fading into the background as I focus on her, on the way her brows furrow in concentration, the faint sheen of sweat on her brow.

In this moment, the world seems to shrink down to just her—her mind, her hands, the only things that stand between us and our goal.

It’s like watching an artist create a masterpiece, each movement deliberate, each code a stroke of genius.

“How much longer?” I ask, glancing down the hall.

“It shouldn’t be taking this long,” Ziva mutters, eyes glued to Arden.

“Just a few more seconds,” Arden snaps. “This system’s more complex than I expected.”

“But can you get past it?” I ask, trying and failing to hide my worry.

“I can if you let me concentrate,” she snaps, her attention still fixed on the screen.

A soft beep breaks the tension. Arden’s face lights up. “We’re in,” she announces, yanking the dataport free and pushing the door open.

I swiftly direct the others to keep watch from the hallway, reminding them to stay on guard and to notify us if they spot anyone or notice any attempts to enter the control room while Ziva, Arden, Dr. Vance, and I are inside.

The group isn’t thrilled about being left out, but the plan was clear—if we’re caught, at least half of us will get a shot at escaping.

As we file into the control room, my breath catches at the faint scent of overheated electronics.

The walls are lined with rows of servers, their blinking lights casting a sickly glow, like an eerie heartbeat in the quiet.

The hum of the machines is a constant reminder of the surveillance net cast over us.

Every flicker on the console feels like it’s watching.

There, at the center, stands our target: the NeuroMod and Sentinel system mainframe.

It towers above us—glossy black surface reflecting the dim light. Cables snake from its base, connecting to various devices and systems around the room. The sheer power of the mainframe is both intimidating and repulsive.

“It’s beautiful,” Ziva whispers, her eyes wide with a mix of wonder and disgust as she gazes up at the towering mainframe. “In a terrifying sort of way.”

I nod, understanding completely. “Dr. Vance, we need you now.”

The older woman steps forward, her immaculate appearance slightly disheveled from our journey through the grimy tunnels. “Right,” she says, her voice tight with tension.

“What are you four doing in here?” A harsh voice interrupts, making us all jump.

My heart leaps into my throat as we turn to see a man in a bone-colored uniform standing behind us by a wall of monitors, their screens casting a faint blue light.

Shit. No one is supposed to be in here.

I don’t have time to question why Marcus didn’t warn us about the worker—maybe he doesn’t have access to the security feeds. I try to come up with a believable explanation for why we are here.

“My name is Dr Elena Vance,” Dr. Vance’s voice quivers as she introduces herself. “These three,” she says, gesturing towards Ziva, Arden, and myself, “are here to assist me in resolving a small issue with the system.”

The man scrutinizes us suspiciously, unsure if he should trust Dr. Vance’s words or not. His fingers twitch nervously at his side, drawing my attention to the communicator device attached to his waist.

Turning to look at Dr. Vance, I silently urge her to keep the man occupied while we come up with a solution. But before Dr. Vance can respond, a thunk echoes through the room, the man collapsing to the floor.

Arden towers over him, holding a dataport like a weapon. “You two were taking too long,” she snaps at us.

I let out a sigh that’s both relieved and exasperated. “Marcus,” I whisper into my earpiece, but all I hear is static.

“The communication lines are jammed,” Ziva says, her eyes widening with realization. “That’s why Marcus didn’t warn us and why he’s not responding.”

I nod, feeling uneasy about our current situation. “Let’s just finish what we came here to do and get out of here as quickly as possible,” I mutter under my breath.

And pray Marcus can override whatever is jamming our communication.

As we approach the mainframe, I marvel at the irony. Dr. Vance, who spent years perfecting this system, is about to be instrumental in its downfall. Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for the access panel, as if she’s thinking the same thing.

“Having second thoughts?” I ask, unable to keep the edge from my voice.

Dr. Vance hesitates for a moment, her fingers hovering over the access panel. She takes a deep breath, eyes flickering to the mainframe, and I see a flash of something—guilt? Regret?

Her voice is tight when she speaks. “What we’re doing…

it’s right. But you have no idea how strange it feels to turn my back on everything I’ve worked for.

” She glances at the mainframe, her face a mixture of awe and disgust. “I spent years designing this, perfecting it… and now I’m about to bring it down.

” Her hands shake as she presses a key, but her eyes show only resolve.

Arden places a reassuring hand on Dr. Vance’s shoulder. “Your knowledge is invaluable, Elena. We couldn’t do this without you.”

I watch as Ziva, Arden, and Dr. Vance work in sync.

Ziva easily pulls open the access panel and connects her dataport without wasting any time.

Arden’s fingers dance over the keypad, while Dr. Vance guides her through the system’s intricacies.

I stand guard, my heart pounding so loudly I fear it might betray us.

“How much longer?” I ask, glancing nervously at the door, frustrated by the loss of our communication link to the others.

“No idea,” Arden mutters, brow furrowed in concentration, her eyes fixed on the screen. “This firewall is a beast, but I think I’ve got it. Once it’s down we should be able to install the device.”

The room is thick with anxiety, a pressure that clings to my skin. I think of our friends outside, creating distractions and keeping watch. Their lives are in our hands too.

Arden’s fingers fly over the keypad, eyes transfixed on the datatpad as she bypasses the layers of firewalls.

Sweat beads at her temple, but she remains unmoving, her focus unbroken.

Her eyes flicker across the screen, and she hisses under her breath, her fingers flying faster.

The numbers flicker, a living pulse of green against the black.

“Got it!” she announces, her voice sharp with relief, but her gaze remains locked on the screen, the smile of triumph on her lips barely hiding the tension in her eyes.

All I see are eerie green numbers scrolling across a black screen but the others both look relieved at the sight of it.

“Elena, the device?”

Dr. Vance hands Ziva the disruptor device, and she swiftly connects it to the mainframe’s wires and the dataport.

This is it. The moment we’ve been working towards for so long.

Countless nights have been spent working as a team to create this device from stolen scraps and blueprints with Dr. Vance’s knowledge.

If we succeed, we’ll be changing the course of history. If we fail…

I push the thought away. We don’t have time for doubt.

“It’s connected,” Dr. Vance whispers, glancing at the glowing red timer. “In ten minutes, the systems will shut down. Once they do, it will take a miracle to get them back up and running again, even if The Authority send reinforcements.”

We share a look of mingled relief and apprehension. Our task is almost complete, but we’re not safe yet. Not by a long shot.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I say, taking Ziva’s hand in mine, noticing that her hand is cold from the machinery. “We need to be long gone before that system goes dark.”

Suddenly, Marcus’s voice crackles through our comms, urgent and panicked. “Myall…Myall are you there? We’ve got company! Authority Enforcers. The others can’t—”

Whatever Marcus was about to warn of the others is cut off. My heart leaps into my throat.

No, not now. We’re so close.

The heavy thud of boots and raised voices echoes from the corridor outside, growing louder with each passing second.

I yank Ziva behind the console, the cold metal digging into my back as I pull her close. The tension between us, the fear, the uncertainty—it’s all so raw, so real. I hold her tighter, feeling the quick rhythm of her breath against my chest. She’s trembling.

Dr. Vance crouches beside us, her eyes wide and shimmering with fear. Panic rises in my chest as I realize I’ve lost sight of Arden, her fierce resolve now swallowed by the panic unfolding around us.

“We need more time,” I whisper, the realization hitting me with full force. “We can’t escape, and that device still has about nine more minutes left.”

Ziva’s eyes meet mine, and I see my own panic reflected in her hazel depths. Her fingers intertwine with mine, squeezing tight but I can feel the slight tremor in them. “Together,” she mouths silently.

The door crashes open, shaking the room. Footsteps echo sharply, deliberate, calculated. I peek around the edge of the console, my breath catching in my throat as the figure in the doorway emerges—Regent Colvin, flanked by his squad of Enforcers.

He steps into the room with the air of a man who already knows how this ends. His tailored suit is impeccable against the dark uniforms of his guards. His eyes scan the room with an almost amused detachment, as though he’s already won.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice smooth like poison. “What have we here?”

As he surveys the room, his blue eyes gleaming with triumph, a horrifying thought dawns on me. The ease of our infiltration, the lack of resistance—it all makes sense now.

“He knew,” I whisper to Ziva, my voice shaking with a potent mix of fear and rage. “He let us get this far on purpose.”

Ziva’s face pales as the implications sink in. We’ve walked right into Colvin’s trap, and now he has us—and all the evidence he needs to crush the rebellion once and for all.

My arms tighten around Ziva, pulling her closer as the pounding of my heart seems to drown out everything else.

I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine, her breath shallow, each inhale a silent plea for escape.

My own pulse thunders in my ears, the world narrowing to the space between us.

The air feels thick, suffocating, as if the very room is closing in on us.

I don’t know if I’m shaking because of the fear, the adrenaline, or the crushing realization that this could be the end for us.

A vision flashes through my mind—the home Ziva dreamed of, our children laughing and running in the yard. But that future… it dies here.