Page 23 of Sacrifice

Luka reaches across the table, his hand briefly clasping mine in a show of solidarity. “She cares about you, Rook. More than you realize. Things around Aisling are always tangled up, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t see you.”

“Maybe.” Doubt gnaws at me, but I push it aside. It’s not the moment for self-pity. “Are you happy to be in the pack, though?” I ask, steering the conversation away from my own troubles. “It’s been a hell of a ride since your return from New Eden.”

He sighs, and there’s a flicker of something in his gaze—a storm of emotions trying to find their place. “Truth is, I don’t really know how to feel. It’s all too…complicated. There’s wanting to belong, sure, but after everything, can you ever truly go back?”

I let out a long sigh and run my fingers through my hair, the weight of our conversation pressing down on me. “It feels like beating a dead horse to keep talking about it like this.” I shake my head, feeling the futility in every word. “And you know, that wasn’t even why I wanted to meet you here.”

Luka looks at me, his brows knitting together in concern, but also curiosity. His phone lies forgotten now as he gives me his full attention.

“Here,” I say, pulling a folded piece of paper from my back pocket, smoothing it out on the worn surface of the booth’s table. It’s a map, dog-eared and marked with circles in red ink. My finger hovers before stabbing down on one particular spot. “I think this is where the Mojave lab is hidden.”

Luka leans in, his eyes tracing the lines and notations, absorbing the implications. “The Mojave lab…” he murmurs, a hard edge creeping into his voice. “The last spot for eros, huh?”

“Yeah.” My jaw sets as cold determination floods my veins. “And I believe it’s run by the same guy who dosed you with eros. The bastard that made you—” I halt, not wanting to finish the sentence, not wanting to remind him of that dark day when control was ripped from his hands.

His expression darkens, the memory etching itself across his face for a fleeting moment before he masks it with resolve. “Ready to kill that bastard,” Luka mutters, a growl lacing his words, fists clenched on the table.

I nod, feeling the same surge of adrenaline at the thought of retribution. “I know. Me too. But we’ve gotta be smart about this, Luka.”

He exhales slowly, deflating as strategy overrides instinct. “Right. Smart.” He leans back, running a hand through his hair. “So, what’s the plan?”

“First, we need intel. Layout, security, personnel.” I tap the map. “We go in blind, we might as well sign our death warrants now.”

“Surveillance,” he agrees. “Drones could work. Small ones, so they don’t get noticed.”

“Good call. And we need to know their shifts, when they change guards. We hit them during the shift change—when there’s chaos.” My mind races, picturing the operation unfolding step by meticulous step.

“Chaos is good,” Luka says with a half-smile. “And once we’re inside?”

“Plant charges. Blow the lab and everything in it sky-high.” I can almost smell the acrid scent of destruction, taste the bittersweet victory.

“Explosives.” Luka nods. “That’ll require a delicate touch. We can’t afford a premature detonation.”

“You know I’ve got that covered,” I say with a sly smile.

“Understood.” His eyes meet mine, reflecting the gravity of what we’re about to undertake. “We’ll need a distraction, too. Something to pull security away from the lab.”

“Maybe a false alarm elsewhere in the compound. Fire or a security breach.” I suggest, already thinking of how we could orchestrate such a diversion.

“Fire’s risky. Draws too much attention.” Luka’s frown deepens. “But a security breach… yeah, that could work. Make ’em think there’s an attack coming from the opposite side.”

“Right.” I draw a breath, letting the weight of our conversation settle. “We’ve got a lot to prep, Luka. This ain’t gonna be easy.”

“Since when do we do easy?” There’s a flash of the old Luka in his smile, the one that took no crap and feared nothing.

“Never,” I admit with a chuckle. “But let’s not make it harder than it needs to be.”

We stand up, the booth’s worn leather creaking under us, a reminder of all the conversations it has absorbed. The lounge has emptied out some, the jukebox now silent, but the tension between us fills the space with an invisible hum.

“Alright, I’ll let the others know.” Luka’s voice is low, his usual confidence tempered by the weight of our plan. “They’ll be in. No question.”

“Good,” I reply, clapping him on the shoulder as we make for the exit. The cool night air hits my face, and I feel the gears of war starting to turn.

We walk in silence to the Bellanova, the towering structure a monolith against the starless sky. It’s here where our paths diverge, each of us returning to our own brand of solitude.

“Hey, Rook,” Luka’s voice stops me just before I break away. I turn to find his eyes searching mine. There’s an intensity there that tells me he’s not just seeing me; he’s looking for something inside me.

“Keep faith, yeah?” He says it like it’s a simple thing, like faith is just another weapon we can wield in the coming fight. “Aisling…she still wants you. This whole thing with Nero, it’s complicated.”

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