Page 52 of Escape into the Night

“You're positive?” Luke whispered into the receiver at his wrist.

“I'm sure. In and out, Luke.”

“Wilco, T.”

They both pulled their weapons before Tommy eased the side access door open and they slid inside, clearing the hallway with a quick sweep before shifting the guns to low ready. The air stank of cheap printer ink and even cheaper coffee. A single fluorescent light buzzed persistently overhead. Luke took the advance position and heel-toe crept to the office they were looking for. Quick work with a set of bump keys had the door creaking open on beleaguered metal hinges. T-minus two minutes. That was the time they’d agreed on in the car en route to this clandestine mission. Two minutes before they could expect fallout. They raced through the office space in search of something, anything. File cabinets, locked drawers, server racks. They searched them all in a desperate attempt to get a hold of what they needed. A sharp clang had Luke flinching, but Tommy’s voice eased the tension.

“Bingo!”

Luke raced to his side to see what he’d found. Stacks and stacks of folders and classified reports filled the bottom drawer of a file cabinet that looked like a throwback to the eighties. He grabbed a handful and started flipping through them. Names. Transactions. Correspondence. It was all here. Everything they needed. The goddamn smoking gun. He could have cried with relief, but a sound sent him into fight mode. A soft click. Too familiar. Too close. Instinct took over. He grabbed Tommy by the back of the neck and shoved him behind a desk with all his might. The crack of suppressed gunfire tore through the air and the bullet whizzed past Luke’s shoulder to embed itself in the drywall.

“Shit!” Tommy cried out as he hit the floor. Luke didn't wait. He didn't hesitate. His firing arm tracked the source of the gunshot and he fired back, a clean shot that sent their assailant crumpling to the ground.

“Luke! Luke, get out!” The voice in his earpiece was thick with panic. “Three coming from the south entrance.”

He didn't have time to reply. He’d catch hell for it later, but right now, he had to finish what they started. Luke grabbed as many files as he could carry. Tommy did the same before covering him as they sprinted toward the nearest exit. The second they hit the alley, tires screeched and headlights blinded them. Another screech of rubber against asphalt brought the SUV to a stop. Luke yanked the passenger side door open and tumbled into the cab. Ty, the silent strong arm who’d crashed into their life with a story of corruption spreading across the globe, was now their getaway driver in a goddamn stolen sport utility vehicle.

“Move, move, move!” Luke hauled the door shut just in time. The ping of a bullet hitting the side panel had him fighting against flashbacks as Ty floored it and sent them careeninginto the night. Luke’s pulse jackhammered, his hands clenched around the stolen files as the roar of blood in his ears grew louder. Finally, something else broke through the chaos. A voice. A familiar, panic-stricken voice that helped him shake the impending panic attack.

“Luke?! Luke, fucking answer me!”

“I'm here. I got it. We got it. I'm okay.”

The sobs that came over the line made it nearly impossible to decipher what was being said. Nearly. “Good. Great. Now I can kill your dumb ass myself!”

“He will, man. Your boy’s a stone cold killer.” Tommy clapped a hand to his mouth before lowering it to hiss quietly over Luke’s shoulder. “Fuck. Too soon?”

“Yes! Way too fucking soon. You're dead, too!” Taz’ shriek was shrill through the comms. “Get back here so I can kill you both!”

Luke’s laughter started choppy and broken before turning into a full-body guffaw born of adrenaline and relief. The dour muttering over the comms cut out with a crash. The mental image of Taz pitching the mic across the room was enough to turn the laughter into hysterics, tears and all. He sagged in the seat, his body jerking with laughter as the reality settled over him. They had what they needed. Sure, they weren't safe. Not yet. But they finally, finally had a fighting chance, and Luke had something worth fighting for. If that wasn't something to laugh with joy about, nothing was.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Caleb

Therewasanevenbigger mess in the Gendry house, and it was courtesy of Caleb. Just how he liked it. There were even more people crowding the space, too. A necessary element of his master plan. Scattered across the massive kitchen table were at least six different laptops, multiple tablets, a maze of charging cables, and a collection of burner phones that would have made a lesser man break out in a cold sweat. At the center of it all stood Caleb's precious padfolio. The air buzzed with the sound of incoming messages, scheduled alerts, and the occasional colorful curse word as another task was completed and queued up for execution. A cuckoo clock, of all things, chimed the midnight hour.

Caleb sat at the helm of this chaotic mess, one foot propped up on the adjacent chair as he scrolled through a long list of pre-programmed releases. Press contacts—check. Social media storm—check. High-priority encrypted email blasts to domestic and international players—check. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose with a self-satisfied sigh.

“Cay, please tell me you've got this all under control?” Elias’ voice drifted from behind him, smooth and measured but tinged with noticeable tension that came from knowing they were about to flip the entire world upside down.

Caleb didn't even look up from his list as he smirked. “Please, baby doll. If I wasn't in control, you'd be watching this place go up in flames while I cackled like a mad scientist.”

He twisted one of the laptops around to show off his impeccably color-coded schedule of destruction. “Tomorrow morning, at precisely nine o’clock, this baby sings.”

Elias leaned in, the warmth of his body washing over Caleb as he squinted at the screen. “Impressive. Terrifying, but impressive.”

“Oh, I know.” Caleb grinned, smug as ever. He cast another glance over the timetable of doom. He was proud of his work.

At precisely 8:59 am, the first social media post would hit. A perfectly worded, heavily sourced exposé on the CIA’s compromised assets. Not from one account. Not even two accounts. No, this was coming from hundreds of accounts. A veritable avalanche of leaks, whistleblower statements, and classified documents dropped in real-time. He had Theo and Taz to thank for this masterpiece. Alongside a number of former staffers still ready to throw down for him.

By 9:01 am, numerous major media outlets, already tipped off by Caleb himself, would start running the story. The pre-approved statements from ‘anonymous sources’ also known as Caleb and his meticulously planted informants would hit the airwaves like a tidal wave.

9:05 am would bring an auto-scheduled email blast that would flood the inboxes of every major politician, diplomat, and power player. He was particularly proud of the emails. The wording in them was chef’s kiss perfection… if destruction could be called perfection, anyway.

And the crown jewel in this chaotic masterpiece would hit at 10:00 am sharp. Elias would step in front of the cameras and make history on a live broadcast that most major media companies were frothing at the mouth to attend.

“And this is airtight?” Elias dragged a hand over his face with a soft exhale.

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