Page 45

“On your knees.”

Leo fisted his hands at his sides, helpless, as Korolov’s gun jabbed at Kat’s temple.

Eldridge perched stiff-spined in her wheelchair, hands in her lap, the tablet still counting down crimson time, four yards to his left.

Korolov’s mouth warped. “Gun.”

Kat tossed her Glock. It skittered under the bed frame and clattered to a stop. She sank to her knees, eyes locked on Leo the whole way, her silence saying more than any scream.

Leo glanced at the tablet on Eldridge’s lap.

Less than seventeen minutes.

“Now you.” Korolov jerked his head. “All of them.”

Leo’s pulse beat against the inside of his skull. He could taste bitter panic yet his hands moved—first boot gun clattering on the floor, then, after a five-second eternity, the backup piece from the small of his back.

He straightened.

Korolov smiled. “Very good.” He ground the muzzle against Kat’s head and her eyes fluttered closed for a single breath.

A faint electric whine crawled through the building’s bones, scratching at Leo’s eardrums as the broadcast array powered up.

Sweat tracked down his spine, and static flared in his comms.

His brother Zak. “We’re not in yet. Thirty seconds to grid access. But once the countdown hits the terminal phase, we lose any override options.”

Leo couldn’t reply, and his fingers twitched uselessly at his thighs.

“Just a touch over sixteen minutes until evolution,” Korolov purred.

Kat’s eyes met Leo’s across the room, unfaltering despite the terror gilding their edges.

“Sixteen minutes to a new age of persuasion and not a drop of blood required.” Korolov’s eyes shone. “Tonight makes believers of them all.” He tilted his head. “Progress isn’t always clean, Bychkov. You, of all people, should know that.”

The distance between him and Korolov was too far. One wrong twitch and Kat died.

“Eldridge?” Leo snapped toward the woman on the bed, but she dropped her gaze toward the tablet.

Coward. Once, she’d fought beside them. Now her silence was treason, dressed as inevitability.

Leo’s throat burned as he turned back to Korolov. “Let Kat go. This is between you and me.”

Korolov laughed, and the sound ricocheted off the room. “Wrong.” He yanked Kat’s head back. She made no sound, but her jaw locked, a muscle fluttering beneath her skin. “No isolated players on this board. Only pieces correctly positioned or not.”

“This isn’t a game. You’re playing with people’s lives.”

Korolov gave a low whistle, the furrow between his eyes deepening.

“Zugzwang.” With his free hand, he nosed his gun in a line down Kat’s cheek.

“Do you play chess, Bychkov? It’s the position where every move makes your situation worse.

Where defeat becomes inevitable.” His smile grew vicious.

“But I’m a generous opponent. I’ll offer you a choice. ”

Leo dug his nails into his palms, his blood molten in his veins.

He couldn’t win this without losing.

Korolov’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Stop the broadcast—she dies. Let it run—she lives. Sacrifice your pawns to save your queen, Bychkov. Isn’t that how the game’s played?”

“Don’t,” Kat whispered, the single word carrying the weight of everything that had grown between them. “Not for me.”

Leo ran the math. Every branch ended with Kat’s blood pooling and Nightshade going live. Millions of minds laid open.

The whine from deep in the complex deepened into an almost sub-audible roar. Above his head, the fluorescent light wavered. Kat shifted her weight—a whisper of motion, just enough to nudge the muzzle off-center.

A plan ignited in the silent current between them.

With the change in her posture, Korolov’s gun barrel drifted less than a quarter of an inch.

Leo’s heart beat once and he launched.

His shoulder rammed into Korolov’s ribs hard enough to crack bone before the Russian could realign.

The gun barked, scorching the air where Kat’s cheek had been a heartbeat earlier as she flung herself clear.

Leo and Korolov crashed past Eldridge into the bed. Her wheelchair tipped with a hollow clang, and she hit the floor shrieking. The tablet, still spinning toward zero, launched from her knees, and skidded beneath the nearest server rack.

“Kat, the tablet!” Leo gasped.

Korolov’s face contorted. His knee drove upward and pain flashed white through Leo’s gut. Bastard. Leo answered with a hook that crunched Korolov’s jaw sideways.

Three feet to the right, a medical cart waited.

Grabbing Korolov by the shoulders, he shoved him into the cart. It tipped, pulling him under. Monitors, coiled cables, and glass vials burst into glittering spray across the tile.

On the other side of him, Kat crawled, elbows skidding through shards toward the tablet.

Blood slicked Leo’s knuckles as he drove one, two piston blows into Korolov’s jaw, adrenaline scalding like acid in his bloodstream.

Korolov fought back like a cornered animal. His thumbs dug for Leo’s throat, his fingers clawing forhis eyes. Leo ripped his hands away, and Korolov regrouped.

A targeted punch drilled into Leo’s kidney. White-hot shock stole his breath and an iron-metal taste flooded his mouth.

“You think you can save her?” Korolov’s laugh was wet with dark blood. “You couldn’t even save those children.”

The words found his fault line, and Leo’s guard dipped. Only an inch, but it was enough.

Korolov surged, his forearm crushing Leo’s windpipe, slamming him into the wall. Leo clawed at the steel band on his neck as his airflow vanished.

“Sangin.” Korolov’s breath was sour in his face. “Your failure. Those bodies still keep you up at night, don’t they?”

Black sparks ignited at the edges of Leo’s vision. On the floor—glass, blood, wires—and one shard three inches long.

Leo sagged, forcing both of them lower.

He stretched, lungs fighting for air. The black sparks coalesced, dragging him under, but one name pulled him back to the surface.

Kat.

His fingers found the blade. It sliced his palm, warming his grip with his own blood.

One cut to the carotid would end it.

Children’s faces. Blood on sand.

“Leonid!” Kat’s voice scythed through the fog.

I’m not that man anymore.

Leo let the shard fall and struck low, bludgeoning Korolov’s floating rib. Korolov gagged and jerked. Thechoke eased and Leo twisted free, sucking in a shaky breath.

Before Korolov could reset, Leo spun behind, sliding his forearm across the carotids—tight and surgical. Not to kill, just enough to turn Korolov’s lights out. “It’s over.”

Korolov thrashed, but it was pointless. Leo held him till he went slack, then released his body, letting him crumple among the shattered glass. He staggered back, spat blood, chest heaving, searching the room for Kat.

Glass gritted as she crawled toward him, face smudged with blood.She was alive. Battered, bleeding—but breathing.

“Leonid.” She rose from her knees. Her hands trembled, blood from a glass-slice streaking her cheek. “Are you?—”

He gripped her hands. Hell, they were cold . “I’ll live.”

A smear of blood glistened on her lower lip. Leo thumbed it away, grateful for the vivid proof she was still breathing.

Kat’s forehead touched his for a breath. “Stay with me.” Her whisper shook.

He let her soak into him, drawing strength. “We’re not done.”

Kat tracked his gaze and retrieved the tablet from the floor. “Twelve minutes left.”

He’d lost five in a blur of pain.

“We need both inputs,” she said, her gaze flicking from Korolov slack on the floor, to Eldridge huddled against the fallen wheelchair.

Two biometric prompts for thumb prints blinked side by side.

Korolov and Eldridge.

Leo boosted to his feet, wheezing breaths ripping through him. He grabbed Korolov’s shoulders. Glass splintered under his boots as he hauled the limp Russian toward Eldridge.

Behind him, Kat retrieved her gun. She kept her Glock trained on the unconscious Russian as Leo pressed Korolov’s thumb against the glass.

“Now you, Eldridge.” Leo coughed, his throat raw from Korolov’s stranglehold.

Eldridge flinched at the force of his voice and shook her head, her skin blanched and tight on her skull. “You’re asking me to sign my death sentence.”

The input screen flickered. A new label blinked beside the thumbprint icons. CONFIRMATION ONLY.

“Fuck this.” Leo dropped Korolov and slammed Eldridge’s thumb against the glass.

The tablet screeched—ACCESS DENIED.

A red glare swept his hands, the floor, Kat’s face. She raised her Glock a fraction toward Eldridge.

Leo blinked, heart thudding.

Realization hit.

The digits kept devouring seconds.

They hadn’t stopped Nightshade.

They’d authenticated it.

His chest locked, something inside him fracturing.

He’d handed it the keys.

All the blood, all the pain—and he’d made it worse.

Eldridge’s lip curled. “Korolov is many things, but careless isn’t one of them. The moment that clock started, the system stopped asking for permission. It’s only looking for proof. And you just gave it.”

She tipped her head, her eyes too bright, wrong bright.

Leo’s pulse bruised his ribs. “There’s always a kill switch.”

“Not anymore.” Eldridge struggled upright, but didn’t try to crawl away. Just stared at the tablet like it was already too late. “You’ve less than twelve minutes to watch the world change—give or take.”

Kat drew closer, her aim rock-steady at Eldridge. “Then we cut the power.” Her jaw lifted. “Whatever it takes.”

Pride flared within him—she had steel to match his own.

Red numerals washed their faces in hell-light. Somewhere overhead, a relay bank kicked to life—low and hungry, inexorable. Leo’s skin prickled as electromagnetic fields strengthened around them, the fine hairs on his arms standing at attention.

Kat was right.

There was always another move.