Page 16 of Eden and her Mercenary
Ryker grinned, sliding three ID badges across the table. "Already handled. My contact provided these—they'll get us to Level 3. For Level 4, we'll need this." He held up what looked like a small credit card with a microchip embedded in it. "RFID cloner. When we get to Level 3, we find someone with Level 4 access and brush past them. The cloner copies their card data."
"Ingenious," Declan murmured. "But what about the biometric scanners? Those require fingerprints, retinal scans."
"That's where I come in," Wren said, joining us at the table. I'd almost forgotten she was there, sitting quietly with Stella. "I've been working on something for our own security systems."
She opened a small case to reveal what lookedlike thin, transparent film cutouts in the shape of fingerprints. "Synthetic fingerprint overlays. They won't fool the highest-grade scanners, but for standard biometric locks, they work perfectly."
Eden stared at the items spread across the table—badges, cloners, fingerprint overlays. "You people do this sort of thing often, don't you?"
"Not exactly this," I admitted. "But similar enough. The MacGallan’s business interests sometimes require... creative problem-solving."
"That's one way to put it," Ryker muttered.
Declan shot Ryker a look before turning back to the blueprints. "The best time to move will be during shift change at 11 PM. Security is more focused on processing outgoing staff than monitoring the interior systems."
"What about cameras?" Eden asked.
"Most can be looped," Wren explained, pulling up a tablet that showed the security camera layout. "But there are blind spots throughout the facility—maintenance corridors, storage alcoves. If you stick to this route—" she traced a path with her finger, "—you'll minimize camera exposure."
I studied the path she indicated. It wasn't the most direct route to the neurology lab, but it seemed like the safest.
"We'll need disguises," Ryker pointed out. "Labcoats, ID badges visible. Act like we belong."
"My contact can get us the appropriate attire," Declan confirmed. "Along with a basic layout of who works where. The key is to avoid conversation—nod, look busy, keep moving."
Eden had been quiet, absorbing everything. Now she looked up, determination etched in her features. "When do we go?"
"Tonight," I said, meeting her gaze. "The longer we wait, the more chance those Junction guys have of finding Stella—or us."
"I agree," Declan said. "I'll have everything ready by 9 PM. That gives you time to rest and prepare."
Eden nodded, then glanced back at Stella, who had fallen asleep on the dog bed. "I should stay with her until we leave."
"Of course," Wren said gently. "I'll bring some food for both of you."
As everyone dispersed to make preparations, I found myself alone with Eden and the sleeping pit bull. She knelt beside Stella, her fingers gently tracing the outline of the scar behind the dog's ear.
"What happens after?" she asked without looking up. "If we get the equipment and Dr. Chen removes the implant—what then?"
I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I guess Stella goes with you, continues on to whatever home was waitingfor her."
Eden shook her head. "There wasn't a home waiting. Margo—the rescue coordinator—just said she needed to disappear. New identity, new province." She finally looked up at me. "But I can't keep her. My life is on the road, moving from shelter to shelter. That's no life for a dog who needs stability after everything she's been through."
The unspoken question hung in the air between us. I found myself considering it before I'd even fully formed the thought.
"I have the cabin," I said quietly. "Secluded, secure. Room to run."
Hope flickered in Eden's eyes. "You would take her?"
"If we pull this off—if we get that implant out and those Junction guys off your trail—yeah, I would." The decision felt right as soon as I said it aloud. "She deserves a chance at a normal life."
Eden smiled—the first genuine smile I'd seen from her—and something shifted between us.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For all of this. I know I dragged you into a mess that wasn't yours to fix."
"Some messes are worth diving into," I replied, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice. "Besides, if you hadn't nearly run me off the road, I'd just be sitting at home watching reruns and drinkingbeer."
She laughed, the sound brightening the sterile panic room. "You make potential death by military contractors sound like an upgrade."
