Page 42 of Damian
I hit enter.
The breadcrumb vanished into the stream, carried to Cyclone’s waiting screens.
Leaning back, I let out a shaky breath, staring at Ruby’s sleeping form across the room. She’d never forgive me if this broke everything with Damian. But if it saved lives, if it savedhim—then maybe that was a price I had to pay.
The recorder’s red light blinked on the desk like a heartbeat, steady and unrelenting.
54
Damian
Cyclone’s laptop beeped again, sharp enough to cut through the tired haze hanging over the room. He straightened, his fingers flying across the keys, eyes narrowing as lines of code scrolled fast.
“Another one,” he muttered.
River leaned over his shoulder, arms folded tight. “Please tell me this isn’t just another empty warehouse.”
Cyclone shook his head. “No. This isn’t a single hit. She’s building something. See this?” He tapped the screen, excitement sharpening his voice. “It’s not just coordinates anymore. It’s a chain. She’s mapping the whole pipeline.”
Roger’s chair scraped back as he stood. “She’s confirming what we’ve been suspecting for months.”
I pushed off the wall, my chest tightening as I moved closer. The code meant nothing to me, but the pattern—the pattern screamed Morgan. I could almost hear her voice, calm and certain, piecing it all together.
“She’s risking herself,” I said quietly. “The more she digs, the closer she’s getting to Luthor’s fire.”
River let out a low whistle. “Damn, call her and demand she stops right now.”
I turned a sharp look on him, but he held up his hands. “Hey, no disrespect. Just saying—she’s in it deep. And maybe she’s the only reason we’re not still chasing ghosts.”
Cyclone clicked through a final screen and sat back, running a hand over his face. “She’s right. This isn’t random. There’s a hub on farmland outside the city, but it’s not the end. It’s the middle. Whatever’s beyond it… that’s where Luthor’s running his operation from.”
I clenched my fists, heat pushing through my veins. Morgan was supposed to be safe, tucked away with Ruby. Instead, she was unraveling the threads we couldn’t catch.
“Gear up,” I said. My voice came out rough, certain. “We follow her lead. And when this is over…” I paused, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I’m going to have a long talk with Morgan about what it means to keep a promise.”
River smirked. “That’s one conversation I’d pay to see.”
“Shut it,” Roger muttered.
But I couldn’t shake the image burning in my head—Morgan at her desk, red light blinking on her recorder, whispering into the dark. She was pulling us closer to Luthor, yes. But she was also pulling herself further into danger.
And God help me, I wasn’t sure which scared me more.
55
Damian
The night pressed heavy as we rolled down the county road, headlights cutting across fields gone wild with weeds. Out here, there were no neighbors, no curious eyes—just miles of silence and the smell of earth. Exactly the kind of place Luthor would use to hide a hub.
Cyclone sat up front, laptop balanced on his knees, the glow lighting his face. “She was right,” he muttered. “Thermal scans show heat pockets scattered across the barns. Generators running inside. No way this is abandoned.”
River grinned from the back seat, bouncing his knee like a restless kid. “Finally. A real fight.”
Roger shot him a flat look. “Keep your head. If this is the middle of the pipeline, it’s not going to be guarded by amateurs.”
I said nothing, my hands tight on the wheel. My chest still ached from the truth we’d all seen—Morgan wasn’t guessing anymore. She was ahead of us. And that meant she was closer to Luthor’s fire than I’d ever wanted her to be.
We killed the headlights a mile out, rolling slow down a dirt track until the barns loomed up against the horizon. Oldwood. Rusted tin. But the glow bleeding from the cracks was too clean, too strong. Power was flowing through those buildings, and power always meant people.
