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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Knight

As soon as I’m done with the bandages, I spin back to face my desk. The heat from my systems is making it difficult to breathe, but that’s not what’s bothering me. It’s the silence. The complete absence of any of the usual sounds that normally fill this space.

I glance down at my watch. Another fifteen minutes have passed since cutting the power. Each second is rushing us toward the end of the countdown. Victor’s timers might be invisible now, but they’re still running.

Glitch shifts in her chair again. Her breathing has changed, it’s shorter, more rapid. The painkillers should be working by now, but something else is making her nervous. Maybe she’s picking up on the same wrongness I feel.

I lean back, letting my mind work through all the potential possibilities. Two timers. Two threats. The first had less than thirty minutes remaining when I cut the power. The second … that’s the one that worries me. There were only around ten minutes left, counting down to … what ?

Her chair creaking catches my attention again as she tries to find a comfortable position. My eyes adjusted to the darkness pretty quickly, and I can see her outline as she brings her bandaged wrists close to her body, protecting them while she tries to appear calm. The gauze stands out against her skin in the minimal light, a reminder of how this all started. Of how Victor manipulated both of us into this exact position.

My fingers drum against the desk’s edge. I’m not used to sitting still, doing nothing, and waiting for someone else to make a move. I’m used to controlling things, making people and software dance to my tune.

My knee bounces, and I scan the room, while my mind goes over every second of the past twenty-four hours. On the second sweep, my eyes stop on the maintenance access panel. My head tilts.

It’s a slightly darker shadow against the wall behind my auxiliary storage unit. An exit route that I’ve never had to use, carefully hidden, and absent from any official building plans.

The fact that I’m considering it now says everything about how serious this situation has become.

I analyze the options, weighing each possibility against what I know about Victor’s methods. He won’t waste time on simple destruction. Everything he does will serve multiple purposes. The virus forcing a shutdown is just the opening gambit. My gut says that these countdowns are the real play. But to what end?

“We need to get out of here.” The words emerge before I’ve even fully committed to the decision.

“What? How?” Her voice holds an edge of panic. “I thought cutting the power was supposed to stop everything.”

“It stopped the virus from spreading.” I stand, calculating distances in the minimal light. “But those countdowns weren’t just for show. Victor doesn’t waste effort on empty threats.”

“So what do we do? You said shutting everything down would lock us in here.”

I move toward the storage unit, muscle memory guiding me. “We need options that don’t involve small explosives and blowing up my door.”

“There aren’t any other ways out.” She sounds certain. Wrong , but certain.

“There is always another way out. You just need to know where to find it.” My fingers locate the edge of the storage unit, and I shove. The sound of metal over hardwood flooring makes me wince.

“What are you doing?” Her footsteps are tentative as she comes over to investigate. I brace my shoulder against the unit and push again. The heat from the equipment makes the effort twice as hard, and sweat is running down my back by the time I’ve created enough space to get behind it.

The access panel blends perfectly with the wall. Another example of Victor’s influence on my security measures. Always have an exit strategy that isn’t in anyone else’s playbook. The irony that I’m using his lessons to escape whatever he’s planned isn’t lost on me.

“There’s nothing there.” Her confusion is clear in her voice.

I run my fingers along the seam. “Look closer.”

The panel swings open at my touch, revealing a darker space beyond. Maintenance access. Every floor has one, but they’re designed for infrastructure rather than comfort. This one leads down to the second floor, then across to the north side of the building. From there, we can reach the parking level.

“What is that?”

“Our exit strategy. If we need it.”

“ If? ” She takes a step back. “I thought you decided we need to get out of here.”

“We do. But timing matters.” I check my watch again. The first time would be at fifteen minutes now. The second … my stomach tightens. Five minutes max.

I move back to my workstation, running my hand over the equipment.

Victor knew exactly how to push me into this corner. But why? What’s the real purpose behind forcing me to shut everything down?

The flash drive in my pocket feels heavy. I grabbed it on instinct when the virus first hit, downloading what I could before the systems crashed. Whatever game Victor is playing, the answers have to be in that code. In the patterns I spotted before everything went dark.

My fingers brush against something … one of my backup tablets. The battery is dead, has been for a few days, so the virus won’t have touched it. It means the data will be intact, if I can get somewhere I can access it away from my network.

If so, it means I can try to take a better look at the virus, and unlock the puzzle Victor has laid out. He knows how I think, knows I’ll try to preserve crucial information before shutting everything down.

“What’s that?” Glitch’s voice raises slightly, and I tilt my head, listening.

There’s a sound … something that doesn’t belong in the silence of the room. A low vibration, more felt than heard. It travels up through my feet, far too strong to be any kind of normal structural movement.

“Knight—”

I hold my hand up for silence, focusing on the feeling. It’s growing stronger, accompanied by a deep bass note that I feel in my chest. My instincts scream that we’re out of time.

“Knight?” Her fear wraps around me. “What’s happening?”

The explosion hits before I can answer her. The blast wave slams against the outside of the building, and the force rocks through my workspace. Equipment crashes to the floor. The emergency light strips flicker, then die, plunging us into total darkness.

The heat from the explosion radiates through the walls. Based on the sound and impact, it originated from the building across from us. Exactly where my main security cameras would have been pointing if they were still online.

Victor’s first countdown just hit zero, and somewhere that second timer is still running.

Times up. We need to move.

But even as I think that, something else pushes its way to the front of my mind. That explosion wasn’t meant to kill me. It was meant to force me to move. He wants me in that maintenance shaft. Into whatever he has planned next.