Page 129 of Controlled Burn
McKenna nodded. “Every one of them. He’s archiving each handoff like it’s evidence.”
“Good,” Talia said. “Let him choke on it.”
McKenna handed her another USB drive. “Label’s prepped. Walk it through under Camera 3B. Make it obvious.”
Talia tucked the drive into her pocket. “And Jake?”
“He’s already spiraling. The more Brooks stirs him up, the sloppier he’ll get. We’ll catch both rats in one trap.”
“I’m okay with that.”
McKenna raised a brow. “You sure?”
Talia nodded. “I want to see how far he’ll go.”
She didn’t say it aloud, but she knew what Brooks had. Not just footage. Leverage. If he showed the right clip to the wrong person, she’d lose everything.
So she had to stay ahead.
Even when fear coiled in her gut. Even when shadows flickered too long, or doors shut too fast.
An hour later, the plan was in motion.
Talia walked through the bay with practiced ease, pocket weighted by the USB.
FINAL REPORT, it read in silver Sharpie.
Camera 3B blinked overhead. She didn’t look up.
McKenna stood by the rigs, inspecting nozzles. Talia passed her. No conversation.
Just the handoff.
USB to palm. Tuck into jacket. Silent. Subtle. Deliberate.
She felt the camera’s gaze. Knew Brooks would archive every frame.
Let him.
The drive was nothing. The trap was everything.
Jake watched from the corner. Didn’t move.
But she felt his stare—hot and feral.
Later, in the rec room, Talia lounged on the torn sofa, a bottle of water between her thighs. Relaxed. In control.
Jake sat across from her, hands twitching.
She met his eyes. Calm. Cool.
“Something on your mind?”
Jake gave a dry laugh. “Just watching the act.”
“You think it’s an act?” she asked, tilting her head.
His jaw tightened. “You’re a fucking puppet master.”
