Page 25 of Eden and her Mercenary
"What about a decoy?" I suggested, an idea forming. "Something to keep them busy while we get Stella and head to Dr. Chen's clinic."
Harrison straightened. "I can help with that. My access credentials are still active—I can trigger an alert in the Prophecies system, make them think Subject Seven's tracking implant has been detected across town."
Royal and Ryker exchanged glances. "Would that work?" Royal asked.
"Temporarily," Harrison confirmed. "The system is designed to triangulate the implant's signal. I can manipulate it to show false readings." She pulled outher phone. "I just need an internet connection."
"Use this," Ryker handed her a small device. "Secure hotspot. Can't be traced."
As Harrison worked on her phone, I leaned closer to Royal. "We need to call Mack to let him know that we have the transmitter.”
Royal nodded, pulling out his own phone. "I'll call him now and have him meet us halfway. The less time we spend driving with this equipment, the better."
I ran my fingers through my damp hair, my mind racing with everything we'd learned. "I still can't believe what they did to her. Using dogs as weapons, controlling their minds..."
"People have been weaponizing animals for centuries," Harrison said without looking up from her phone. "Carrier pigeons in wartime, dolphins trained to detect mines. But this—neural integration—it crosses a line."
"A line you helped draw," I couldn't help pointing out.
Her fingers paused over the screen. "Yes. A mistake I'm trying to rectify." She met my gaze directly. "Judge me if you want, but right now I'm your best chance at helping Subject—at helping Stella."
Royal finished his call and rejoined us. "Mack's going to meet us at a truck stop about forty miles north. From there, we'll split up—Ryker takingHarrison somewhere safe, while you and I head to Dr. Chen's with the equipment."
"What about Stella?" I asked.
"Declan and Wren are going to transport her," Royal explained. "Three vehicles, three different routes. If Junction is tracking any of us, they won't know which one has Stella."
"Smart," I admitted, impressed by their planning. "But how will Wren handle Stella? She doesn't know her."
"Wren has a way with traumatized animals," Royal assured me. "And the panic room's signal jammers will prevent any remote activation of the implant while she's there."
Harrison looked up from her phone. "Done. I've programmed the system to show Subject Seven's signal moving toward Toronto. They'll chase that for a few hours before realizing it's a false trail."
"Good work," Ryker said, genuine appreciation in his voice. "That should buy us enough time."
The rain had finally stopped, leaving a glistening sheen on the roads as we headed north. I stared out the window at the passing landscape, exhaustion beginning to creep in now that the immediate danger had passed.
"You should rest," Royal suggested quietly, noticing my drooping eyelids. "It's still a long drive to Dr.Chen's."
I shook my head stubbornly. "Can't. Not until I know Stella's safe."
He didn't argue, just shifted closer, his solid presence oddly comforting. "We'll get through this, Eden. All of us, including Stella."
I wanted to believe him—needed to believe him. So much had happened since that midnight call from Margo, setting me on this unexpected path. I'd gone from transporting rescue dogs to stealing military technology, all for one scarred pit bull with intelligent eyes and a white star on her chest.
"Why did you really help me?" I asked suddenly, keeping my voice low.
Royal studied my face, seeming to weigh his response carefully. The van's dim interior cast shadows across his features, but I could see something vulnerable in his eyes—something he typically kept hidden.
"When I was ten," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper, "my stepfather had this dog. Beautiful German Shepherd named Kaiser. That dog was the only thing in that house that showed me any kindness."
I watched him, saying nothing, sensing this wasn't a story he told often.
"One night, my stepfather came home drunk,angrier than usual. Started in on me—fists, belt, whatever was handy." His jaw tightened at the memory. "Kaiser intervened. Bit him. Not bad, just enough to get him to stop."
"What happened?" I asked, though I feared I already knew.
"He shot Kaiser. Right there in front of me." Royal's voice remained steady, but his eyes held decades-old pain. "Then he told me it was my fault. That if I'd been stronger, been better, the dog wouldn't have had to die."
