Page 76 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
Not the careful distance we maintained after our fight. The real friendship. The kind where I start a tactical assessment and he finishes it without missing a beat. Where he calculates blast patterns, and I instinctively know which direction to position charges.
It feels good. Right. Like pieces of myself are clicking back into place. He’s a part of me as much as I’m a part of him.
“Hank, Gabe, you’re gonna want to see this.” Jeb’s voice carries through the intercom system, crackling with excitement.
We follow the scientists to the main lab, where holographic displays show data streams that look like technological hieroglyphics to my demolitions-trained eyes. But the body language around the room tells me everything—Dr. Kim practically vibrates with excitement; Dr. Rodriguez keeps double-checking the readings, even stone-faced Dr. Okafor carries a hint of a smile.
“Our Trojan horse is fully integrated with the network,” Dr. Kim announces. “Authentication successful. The hive mind has accepted it as legitimate.”
“And it’s receiving communication bursts,” Dr. Rodriguez adds. “Scheduled data transfers from the quantum control network.”
Hank steps closer to the displays. “What kind of data?”
“Operational coordinates. Command instructions. Network maintenance protocols.” Dr. Okafor pulls up geographical data that makes my pulse spike. “Including what appears to be the primary communication node location.”
Holy shit!
The coordinates float in space like a promise of salvation. Longitude and latitude numbers that could lead us directly to Malfor’s operational center. To Ally.
“Where?” The question scrapes out of my throat like broken glass.
“Remote island in the South Pacific. Eight hundred nautical miles southwest of Hawaii.” Dr. Kim overlays satellite imagery showing a volcanic landmass jutting from endless blue water. “Isolated. Defensible. Perfect for covert operations.”
“Infrastructure?” Hank asks, always thinking ahead.
“Significant. Multiple structures, communication arrays, deep-water harbor capable of handling substantial vessels.” Dr. Rodriguez zooms in on obvious military construction. “It’s a permanent installation.”
“How confident are we in this intelligence?” Hank asks.
“The quantum signatures match perfectly,” Dr. Kim responds. “Our Trojan horse is receiving direct instructions from this location. No intermediary nodes. This is the source.”
I scan the room, noticing the scientists exchanging glances. Jeb’s barely suppressing a smile, and Dr. Kim keeps looking at something on her tablet that she hasn’t shown us yet.
“What?” I ask. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Dr. Kim and Jeb exchange another look. Dr. Rodriguez suddenly becomes very interested in his coffee mug.
“We were going to wait until the full briefing,” Jeb says, his voice attempting seriousness but failing to hide his excitement.
“Tell us now,” Hank demands, his instincts clearly picking up the same vibe I’m getting.
Dr. Kim takes a deep breath. “There’s more. Not only have we tracked the primary communication node, but…” She pauses, looking at Jeb.
“But we also received a signal,” Jeb finishes, unable to contain himself any longer. “A direct transmission from the facility.”
My heart stops. “What kind of signal?”
“It’s encrypted,” Dr. Okafor explains, “but using a very specific pattern. One that matches protocols developed right here in this lab.”
“Specifically,” Dr. Kim says, her eyes locking with mine, “it uses the quantum encryption algorithm Ally designed last year.”
The air leaves my lungs. “You’re saying?—”
“We believe it’s Ally,” Jeb confirms, his face breaking into a full grin now. “Or possibly Stitch. But given the encryption pattern, our money’s on Ally.”
“Show me,” I demand, stepping forward.
Dr. Kim taps her tablet, and a string of code appears on the main display. To most people, it would be meaningless, but I recognize pieces of it from watching Ally work countless nights.
