Page 76 of Final Sins

Taking a seat on the floor between Jason and her cousin, she studied the perimeter—or at least as much of it as she could see from the shadows—cataloging exits, potential weapons, anything that might give them an edge.

That’s when she saw it—nestled in a darkened corner, its green light blinking lazily, sat one of Gabriel’s holographic emitter boxes.

If they could take out that box, it might disrupt the entire network. It wasn’t much, but in their current situation, even a few seconds of chaos could mean the difference between life and death.

Because the end game was more than clear. The general would spirit Jason, Cody and probably Gabriel off to a dark interrogation cell somewhere, but the rest of them would become, as Munsinger said, collateral damage.

She stretched out her legs, hoping the movement would catch Jason’s attention. When he eyed her, she flicked her gaze meaningfully towards the emitter. He followed the direction of her gaze so stealthily he literally didn’t move his head. Then understanding dawned. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Leaning into his shoulder, she waited until the closest guards looked away. Then she whispered, “If I destroy that, I can shut down the holograms.”

“For how long?”

Careful to keep her eyes on their captors, she responded through tight lips. “Twenty seconds. Thirty, tops.”

“That’ll do.” Jason’s response was equally hushed, his breath warm against her ear. “You’ll need help.”

Jason’s eyes flicked to Paige, then back to the emitter box. In a fluid motion, he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Alex watched as Paige mirrored the gesture, her face betraying nothing, but her meaning clear. She understood.

The silent acknowledgement made Alex’s heart crash into her ribs. They weren’t beaten yet.

Jason picked at the hem of his cargo pants, seemingly miles away in thought. “I’ll create a distraction,” he murmured.

A rustle of movement to their left caught Alex’s attention. Gravy had inched closer to Jason, his face set in grim determination. “Not you. I got this,” he whispered.

“Negative,” Jason insisted. “Stand down, soldier.”

“I know the man,” Gravy insisted.

Alex’s gaze darted between the two men, weighing their options in a split second. “Let Gravy do it,” she breathed.

Before Jason could object further, Gravy shot to his feet.

Rifles zeroed in on him from all directions. Gravy raised his hands, fingers spread. His voice rang out, sharp and accusatory. “Was any of it real, Dad? Or was I just another moving part in your whole world-dominating-villain scheme?”

Shock flashed across Munsinger’s face before a mask of cold indifference settled back in. “You were always too soft, son. Too easily led by your emotions.”

Gravy laughed, a bitter sound edged with pain. “Dude. You wouldn’t know a feeling if it bit you in the?—”

“Enough!” The general’s roar echoed off the concrete walls.

Father and son squared off, their voices rising in a crescendo of accusation and denial. The attention in the room shifted. The guards’ eyes were drawn to the unfolding drama, their grips on their weapons loosening ever so slightly.

Alex caught Jason’s eye, a silent question passing between them. Now or never.

She rose, ready to pivot and dive behind the cardboard boxes stacked in front of the emitter.

But a blur of motion caught her off guard. Paige lunged at her, eyes blazing with fury. “This is all your fault!” She shrieked,her voice echoing off the concrete walls. “You and your stupid team led Seven-Five straight to us!”

Before Alex could react, Paige shoved her backwards. Alex stumbled, her back slamming into the boxes. They toppled to the floor in a tangle of cardboard and limbs.

“You think you’re so smart,” Paige snarled. She slammed her palm into the floor half an inch from Alex’s face.

Alex caught on quickly, returning Paige’s mock blows with convincing force. “At least we’re doing something,” she spat back, her elbow ‘accidentally’ ramming into the box holding the device, which crashed to the floor.

They continued fighting, a whirlwind of flailing limbs and angry shouts. Each movement was calculated, every blow strategic as they systematically beat the emitter box.

“Make them stop!” someone, probably the general, yelled.

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