Page 97 of Fury

“You can stop it, right?” Bennion’s voice was gruff, urgent. “Hurry up, Hollyn. We aren’t made to withstand a detonation.”

“Hollyn?” Davis leaned in slightly.

“If everyone would shut up!” Regret tugged at her, but gratefully, silence ensued. “Sorry.” She typed as fast as she could, brain straining to figure out why . . . “The AI is fighting me. . . ” Her heart leapt. “No, it’s thinking . . . protecting its purpose.” Which was good in a lot of situations . . . but really bad right now.

“Not that I’m rushing you, but we’re negative one minute.” Bennion’s voice was low. Tight with irritation.

“And you’ll be negative a body part if you don’t stop talking,” Glace hissed at him.

It was terrifying enough with the clock countdown that hovered in the upper right-hand corner. To have him telling herto. . .Just focus. Get it stopped. But . . . why wasn’t it working? She’d entered the right . . . “The code . . . it’s not working.”

“What code?”

“The AI’s kill code. I have to kill the AI because it’s correcting the misdirection I sent it so it’d detonate in the ocean.” She growled as she tried again. “Why isn’t it working?” It was the right code. Why? What was she doing wrong? “The AI . . . ”

45 seconds.

Dad had changed it . . . preventative measure . . .

“Thirty . . . ”

Which meant . . . “I’ve got it. Hang on.” She found the program where her algorithm was nestled. Accessed it.

The system prompted: Password

Hollyn stared blankly at it. Password? What password?

Wait . . . my algorithm . . . Mine!!

“Hollyn,” Davis said with more than a little warning, the sound of the incoming missile terrifyingly distinct.

She typed in the only password she could figure Dad would use for her: Sparrow.

Incorrect password. Two chances left.

“Hollyn!”

Panic thrummed. What was?—

Leetspeak. She and Daddy had made more than one joke of her affinity for that internet hacking language. Hurriedly, she typed in 5P4rr0w.

The screen blipped. Characters on the page seemed to fall to the bottom as a bird fluttered from one side to the other, its wake spellingI knew you’d do it, Sparrow.

She clapped her hands over her mouth and fought the tears. Daddy . . . But how . . . how had he known?

A shriek overhead drew their gazes skyward. The moon caressed the hull of a missile that rocketed past the buildings.

Davis lowered his gaze to her. “What . . . just happened?”

“I redirected the missile into the ocean. My dad anticipated someone would try to use the program for something military and created a counter-code to neutralize the code.” She fought the tears again. “It was me. My dad knew I’d find a way to intervene.”

“And save thousands of lives.”

20

REINHARDT HOME, ABU DHABI, UAE

LeavingAbu Dhabi was going to be hard. Strike that. LeavingHollynwould be hard.

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