Page 70 of Undercover Infidel
I moved to the nearest terminal and connected my access module. The system requested an authentication, and I spotted the Metzger handshake protocol McLaren had mentioned. The revelation chilled me a second time—how could she have known?
I bypassed the authentication and began extracting data, scanning through the files as they downloaded.
“I’ve found something,” I said, pointing at the screen. “It’s not just an EMP. There’s an integration between the AI targeting system and neural interface technology.”
Con leaned closer, his shoulder touching mine. “Making it selectively affect certain targets?”
“Yes, but there’s more.” I scrolled through the technical specifications that made my blood run cold. “The neural interface component allows them to exempt specific individuals from the effects. I’ve never seen anything like this architecture before.”
Our faces were so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. For a moment, the mission faded into the background, and I was acutely aware of him—his scent, his warmth, and the intensity in his eyes as they met mine. I couldn’t allow myself to consider what lifewould be like without him. Every mission was that dangerous. Lives were lost. People came home in boxes.
“Lex,” he said, my name barely a whisper on his lips.
I swallowed, forcing myself back to the task at hand. “We need to gather all the data we can,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This technology could be devastating in the wrong hands.”
Con’s eyes lingered on mine a beat longer than necessary before he turned to scan the room for additional storage drives or backup systems.
I continued the download, monitoring the progress bar while trying to quiet the hammering of my heart.
The sound of footsteps approaching cut our mission short. “We’ve got company,” Con warned.
I hastily disconnected my module, the data extraction at eighty-seven percent. “We need to find another way out.”
Con pointed to the maintenance access along the far wall. “There. Service corridors run throughout.”
We removed the panel and slipped into a narrow passage just as the laboratory door opened. Through a small gap, I caught a glimpse of armed guards sweeping the room, their weapons at the ready.
Con led the way, our progress slow in the confined space. The walls pressed in on all sides, and pipes ran along the ceiling, forcing us to hunch as we moved.
“Wait,” I whispered, stopping suddenly. “Listen.”
Shots erupted from somewhere nearby—sharp, staccato bursts echoing in the metal structure. We continued navigating the maze of service tunnels, using Con’s tactical display to orient ourselves toward the source of the gunfire. The sounds grew louder as we approached, interspersed with shouted commands in Russian.
When we emerged into a hallway near the eastern wing, the air was thick with smoke, and bullet holes scarred the walls. Following the trail of destruction, we reached an area that resembled a firing range.
Bennett was there, slumped against a wall, blood seeping through his tactical vest. Dr. McLaren crouched nearby, her face pale with shock.
“What happened?” Con demanded, kneeling to examine Bennett’s wound.
“Ambush,” Bennett gasped. “Orlov was waiting for us.”
McLaren’s voice was shaky. “He knew exactly where we’d be. We need to move, now.”
I caught her eye, searching for any sign of deception, but her expression revealed only fear and tension. Still, something felt off. The way she’d known about the Metzger firewalls. How she avoided my gaze now. More, she was supposed to be with Archon, and Bennett with Renegade. Where were they?
“Can you walk?” Con asked Bennett, helping him to his feet.
Bennett nodded grimly, leaning heavily on Con. “This exit is compromised,” he said through gritted teeth. “We need another way out.”
“The service passageways,” I suggested, taking point. “I’ll lead. This way.”
We retreated into the maintenance tunnels, me in front, Con supporting Bennett, and McLaren bringing up the rear. The narrow space hampered our movement, with Bennett’s injury further slowing our progress.
The alarm systems continued to wail as we navigated the service network. Twice, we had to freeze in place as their teams passed by the access areas.
“How much farther?” McLaren whispered, her voice tight with tension.
“Almost there,” I replied. “The northwestern perimeter has fewer guards. We can exit there.”
