Headlights carved the trees.
Engines growled.
Doors slammed.
Ije didn’t flinch.
“How many?”
I counted the beams through the slats.
“Three vehicles.
Six men, minimum.”
“AVG?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Or Ferryman’s idea of leverage.”
I moved to the window, pistol low.
The rain had thickened, turning the bluff into a slick slope.
Good for us.
Bad for them.
“Plan?” Ije asked.
“Hold,” I said.
“Then hit.”
She nodded, checked her mag, and took position by the door.
The first shot shattered the silence.
Glass exploded.
A bullet punched the wall beside me.
I fired back…once, twice…through the gap in the frame.
A shout.
A body hit the ground.
“Front door,” Ije warned.
I pivoted.
The lock rattled.
Then a boot slammed against the wood.
I stepped back, raised the pistol.
The door burst open.
A man rushed in.
I shot him center mass.
He dropped.
Two more tried to follow.
Ije put one down with a clean headshot.
The other ducked back outside.
Silence returned, heavy and wet.
“Four left,” I whispered.
“Plus whoever’s driving,” Ije said.
I moved to the back window.
A shape shifted in the trees.
I fired.
A curse.
A thud.
“Three,” I said.
Then the grenade hit.
It came through the front window, arcing low, landing on the rug.
“Down!” I grabbed Ije and shoved her behind the stone hearth.
The blast ripped through the room.
Heat.
Pressure.
Splinters.
My ears rang.
Smoke stung my eyes.
I pushed up, coughing.
“Status,” I rasped.
Ije was already moving, blood on her cheek but eyes sharp.
“Alive.
They’re breaching.”
I grabbed the shotgun from under the table….double-barrel, old, brutal.
“Let them try.”
They came in hard.
Two from the front.
One from the back.
I took the front.
First man through the door got both barrels.
He didn’t get up.
The second fired….wild, panicked.
I sidestepped, slammed the shotgun into his throat, and pulled the trigger.
He dropped.
Behind me, Ije’s pistol barked twice.
The rear attacker fell.
Silence again.
Heavier this time.
I reloaded.
“Last one’s outside.”
Ije nodded.
“Driver.”
I moved to the window.
The SUV idled, lights sweeping the trees.
I took aim.
Fired.
The driver slumped.
The vehicle rolled forward, hit a tree, and stopped.
Smoke curled from the hood.
I lowered the shotgun.
“Clear.”
Ije exhaled.
“For now.”
I walked to the first body, rolled him over.
AVG patch.
Tactical gear.
No ID.
I checked his pockets. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Found a radio.
A voice crackled: “Team One, report.”
I keyed the mic.
“Team One is down.”
Static.
Then: “Who is this?”
“Overhead,” I said.
“Tell Harlan his men are expendable.”
I crushed the radio under my boot.
Ije watched me.
“That’s going to bring more.”
“Good,” I said.
“Let them come.”
I grabbed the Ledger from the table.
Pages singed but intact.
I opened it to a fresh sheet.
Wrote: “Cabin compromised.
Ferryman’s price: higher than expected.”
Then: “Next move: Alpha.
Tonight.”
I capped the pen.
“Burn it,” I told Ije.
She didn’t ask what.
She just grabbed a canister from the kitchen, doused the bodies, the furniture, the bloodstained rug.
I lit the match.
Fire roared to life.
We walked out into the rain.
Behind us, the cabin became a torch.
We drove in silence.
The sedan ate up the blacktop, tires hissing on wet asphalt.
Seattle glowed on the horizon, a bruise of light against the storm.
Ije broke the quiet first.
“Why Alpha tonight?”
“Because Harlan thinks I’m holed up,” I said.
“Because he thinks I’m scared.
And because the kill-switch timer just hit seventy hours.”
She glanced at me.
“You’re not scared?”
“I’m calibrated,” I said.
She didn’t laugh.
“Harlan will be there.”
“I know.”
“You’ll die.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“But I’ll take the vault with me.”
She looked away.
Out the window.
At the rain.
“Why me?” she asked.
“Why keep me alive?”
I didn’t answer right away.
The road wound downward.
The city grew larger.
“Because you know where the bodies are buried,” I said finally.
“And because I’m not done with you.”
She smiled.
It was tired.
“Then let’s go bury Harlan.”
Elliott Bay Terminal loomed ahead.
Floodlights.
Guards.
Cameras.
I killed the headlights a mile out.
“Park in the shadows,” I said.
Ije did.
We got out.
I pulled the suppressed pistol from my jacket.
Ije checked her mag.
“Plan?” she asked.
“Same as Beta,” I said.
“You walk me in.
I do the rest.”
She nodded.
We moved.
Low.
Fast.
Using the rain as cover.
The gate guard saw us too late.
Ije flashed her badge.
“Asset Voss.
Contingency clearance.”
He hesitated.
I put the pistol to his spine.
“Open.”
He opened.
We slipped inside.
The terminal was quiet.
Too quiet.
“Vault’s on the mezzanine,” Ije whispered.
“Harlan’s office is above it.”
“You take the vault.
I take Harlan.”
She grabbed my arm.
“Don’t.”
I pulled free.
“Stay alive.”
Then I turned.
And walked toward the stairs.
Toward the light.
Toward him.
Harlan’s office door was open.
He sat behind the desk, hands folded, eyes on the rain-streaked window.
“Kael,” he said without turning.
“I expected you sooner.”
I stepped inside.
Pistol raised.
“Where’s the master key?”
He turned slowly.
Smiled.
It didn’t reach his eyes.
“You think I’d keep it here?”
“I think you’re arrogant enough to try.”
He stood.
Walked to the safe behind him.
Placed his palm on the scanner.
The door hissed open.
Inside: a single drive.
Black.
No label.
“This,” he said, “is the end of the world.”
I didn’t lower the pistol.
“Give it to me.”
He laughed.
“Or what?
You’ll shoot me?
Then who stops Phase Two?”
“I will,” I said.
“With the kill-switch.”
Harlan’s smile faded.
“You don’t understand.
The kill-switch doesn’t stop the vector.
It just locks the network.
The infected stay infected.
The carriers stay carriers.”
“Then I’ll burn it all down.”
He tilted his head.
“You can try.”
He pressed a button on his desk.
The lights went out.
Red emergency strips flickered on.
A voice boomed over the intercom:
“Lockdown initiated.
All exits sealed.”
Harlan’s voice was calm.
“You’re trapped, Kael.
Just like her.”
I froze.
“What did you do?”
He smiled.
“I activated Phase Two early.
Seattle burns first.”
He pressed another button.
A screen lit up.
Rhea.
Bound.
In a room I didn’t recognize.
A tactical stood behind her.
Hand on her shoulder.
Harlan’s voice was soft.
“Surrender the carrier.
Or she dies.”
I looked at the drive.
At Harlan.
At the screen.
And I made my choice.
Cliffhanger: I lowered the pistol.
“Take me to her.”
Harlan’s smile widened.
“Wise.”
He reached for the drive.
I moved.
Fast.
I grabbed his wrist.
Twisted.
The pistol cracked against his temple.
He dropped.
I snatched the drive.
And ran.
Behind me, alarms wailed.
Ahead: a building full of tacticals.
And somewhere in the dark: Rhea.
Waiting.