Page 167 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Miguel slips into his medical authority voice. "These adhesive monitors transmit through encrypted channels—place them here and here."
He points to spots on Jax's neck and wrist.
"They'll look like simple bandages from minor work."
"We'll know immediately if you're compromised," Cole adds, linking the biometric feed to our monitoring system.
Kade reviews extraction protocols with focused intensity. Asher remains behind me, his presence solid but tense.
"So if someone flirts with me, will my heart rate spike enough to trigger extraction?" Jax asks with a grin, eyes deliberately flickering to me. "Because if Nessa's on comms, I might need medical intervention."
I open my mouth with a smart comeback when Asher's palm lands on my lower back. Heat spreads through my shirt where he touches, claiming and marking territory. My heart hammers against his barely leashed control.
"Stay on task, Nitro," Kade interrupts without missing a beat.
I shift backward into Asher's touch, his rigid muscles relaxing slightly. His thumbnail draws a tiny circle against my back, sparks shooting through my nervous system.
As the briefing ends and the team disperses, Miguel pulls me aside, expression caught between professional pride and big-brother concern.
"Mom would have a heart attack if she knew what you're really doing with your computer skills." He squeezes my shoulder gently. "And how proud I am of you for it."
I follow Remy and Kuya Migs toward the elevator, relief flooding through me. My brother is officially part of this world now.
When we reach the elevator, Remy turns to us, "I need to check in with HR. Cole requested Vanessa in tech division. Asher will meet you there later."
Kuya Migs gives me a quick side-hug. "I'll get started on orientation. Try not to hack anything important while I'm gone."
"No promises," I shoot back with a grin.
When the elevator doors open at Level B4, I step into a wide corridor. This isn't tech division directly. Level B4 houses several departments. I follow signage past conference rooms and storage areas, eventually reaching a security checkpoint with reinforced glass doors.
After scanning my badge, I enter the tech division and pause in amazement. The central operations area stretches before me in a perfect circle, workstations arranged to face an impressive wall of high-definition monitors. The lighting gives off a gentle blue-white glow that doesn't reflect on screens and specialized flooring that muffles my footsteps almost completely.
"Holy shit," I whisper, fingers tingling with the urge to touch everything. "This is..."
My brain short-circuits, unable to find words. The server infrastructure visible through glass walls is military-grade—no, beyond military. This is the kind of setup I've only dreamed about.
Cole appears from behind a curved workstation. "Thought you might appreciate the tour."
"Appreciate doesn't even—" I spin slowly, taking in quantum encryption modules and custom AI interfaces. My chest tightens with a physical ache of pure technological desire. "I think I'm having a religious experience."
Cole's normally serious face cracks into a small smile. "Your workspace is here." He leads me to a station with three large monitors. "Feel free to customize—"
Before he finishes, I'm already rearranging everything. My fingers move fast, shifting monitors into positions that make sense to my brain. Center screen tilted thirty degrees to match my natural head position, left monitor vertical for code review, right monitor at eye level for reference materials.
Cole watches as I unpack personal equipment from my backpack: specialized keyboard with textured keys, unusual-shaped mouse that fits my specific grip, several USB drives color-coded with markers and stickers.
"You categorize by concept rather than alphabet or function," he observes as I arrange my drives in a pattern that probably looks random to him.
I nod, already deep in setup mode.
"Purple means encryption software linked to pattern detection. Yellow is a visualization tool linked to financial tracking. Green is backdoor access points organized by geographical server location." Words tumble out as my fingers fly across keyboards.
"That's... unconventional." Cole watches me customize security protocols with head-spinning speed.
"Conventional is slow." I barely look up as I integrate my personal authentication methods into CPG's system. "Standard organization wastes processing time when your brain naturally connects concepts across categories."
Cole's forehead wrinkles as he tries to follow my explanation while I reconfigure multiple systems at once.
