Page 87 of Tag
Tessa slipped her sunglasses down and swirled the whiskey in her glass.
“She always did overperform,” she muttered.
The guard at her side shifted. “Do you want her eliminated?”
She laughed—low and cold. “Eliminated? No. You don’t burn your prototype until you’ve dissected the code.”
She stood, straightened her jacket, and walked toward the elevator that would take her down into the complex. Behind her, the wind picked up again, kicking sand across the rooftop.
Inside, the hallway lights glowed sterile and white. She passed through two biometric checkpoints and entered her private chamber—lined with screens. Each showed different feeds.
Golden Team.
Aponi.
Lacey.
Tag Harris.
She tapped the screen showing Tag’s profile.
“He’s the wildcard,” she said. “Emotionally compromised. She’ll fight for him.”
A tap brought up the satellite feed of the safehouse.
“I could have taken her years ago,” she whispered. “But broken wings don’t fly. And I wanted to see what she’d become when she thought she was free.”
Another tap. A hidden file was unlocked.
A list.
PROJECT: CHIMERA – PHASE 2: LEGACY
Primary Asset: Isabelle Hartman
Secondary Asset: Classified
Subject Tag Harris: Containment/Neutralize
Tessa Lawson – Director
She smiled again. “Come home, Isabelle. You still belong to me. I taught you everything you know.
Then she turned to her guard. “Tell the team: prep the trap site. Aponi will bring the fight. I’ll bring the end.”
81
Tag
The gear room buzzed with energy—covert radios being tested, weapons locked and loaded, tactical vests lined up in rows. The mission briefing had ended, the strategy laid bare: in forty-eight hours, we’d hit a location buried in the New Mexico desert.
It had no name.
Only a nickname:
The Nest.
Aponi stood across the room, suited up in black—body armor hugging her frame, her long dark braid pulled tight down her back, eyes cold and sharp. She looked like vengeance.
