Page 66 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
Collins’s gaze shifts between Hank and me, assessment sharp as surgical steel. “And in return?”
“We get your daughter back.” I let an edge creep into my voice. The implied challenge hangs in salt air between us—do you doubt we can do it?
Something passes across Collins’s features. Not doubt exactly. More like distaste wrapped in paternal protectiveness. He’s watching two men who share his daughter’s bed, who’ve seen her in ways that make fathers uncomfortable, who represent everything about her adult life that exists outside his control.
“The facility’s not a problem. I’ve got corporate research sites that can be completely isolated and secured within hours. But we need to be clear about what we’re discussing here.” His response comes after careful consideration. “Whoever goes in can’t come out. They go in, get EMP’d to destroy any nanobots, then they stay locked inside working on a solution. Complete isolation until this is over.”
Collins’s jaw tightens. He’s accustomed to controlling situations through financial leverage and corporate influence. Guardian protocols don’t accommodate billionaire micromanagement. He shifts that attention to me and Hank.
“You love her.” His voice carries grudging acknowledgment.
“More than our own lives.” Hank’s confirmation rings with absolute certainty.
“Enough to die for her,” I add steel to the promise.
Collins nods slowly. “Then we’re on the same page.”
“So what can you give us?” Sam steps back into the conversation before tension can reignite.
Collins’s demeanor shifts back to corporate efficiency. “I’ve got a research campus in Palo Alto that can be completely cut off from all external networks. Clean rooms designed for quantum computing.”
“Faraday cage setup?” Mitzy’s eyes light up with technical enthusiasm.
“Military grade. Built for classified government contracts. Completely invisible to outside surveillance.” Collins’s confirmation carries satisfaction.
“What about personnel?” CJ presses for specifics.
“Twelve specialists. Quantum physicists, AI researchers, and nanotech engineers. Best minds in their fields.” Collins pauses, then adds with paternal steel, “People who know failure’s not an option.”
The resources he’s offering represent capabilities that dwarf government budgets. Corporate research and development unconstrained by bureaucratic limitations or oversight committees.
“How fast can you deploy?” Sam continues the tactical assessment.
Collins checks his watch. “Team assembly within six hours. Full operational capability within eighteen.”
“Money talks.” Blake whistles low.
“Money screams. And right now, I’m prepared to be real fucking loud,” Collins corrects with grim satisfaction.
The strategy crystallizes around us. Dual operational tracks. The visible Guardian activities that Malfor expects, and invisible technical warfare he can’t monitor.
“How do we communicate between sites?” Rigel asks, always thinking about operational details.
“Courier runs. Physical transfer of intel between clean sites. No electronic communication that could get intercepted.” CJ’s response is short and direct. “We rotate Guardians at weekly intervals. They carry any necessary communication.”
“Who’s running the tech side?” Sam asks the critical question.
“I am.” Mitzy’s voice carries absolute authority. “But I can’t be the one who goes in. I need to stay here, coordinate between the clean site and our beach operations, manage the flow of intelligence.”
“Then who goes in for the techies?” CJ presses.
Mitzy looks around the circle. “Jeb. He’s got the technical background to work with Collins’s specialists, and he knows my systems better than anyone.”
“And security?” Collins asks.
“I like your idea of two Guardians.” Sam’s tone makes it clear this isn’t negotiable. “Hank and Gabe on the first rotation.”
Collins nods, but I catch something in his expression. “How do we explain their absence from Guardian operations?”
