Chapter 891
The inside of the shipping container smelled of rust, damp rot, and dried blood. A single naked bulb hung from the ceiling on a frayed wire, swaying gently with the vibrations of the wind outside, casting long, nauseating shadows that danced across the corrugated metal walls.
Parker Hayes sat zip-tied to a metal folding chair in the center of the pool of yellow light. His head throbbed in perfect time with his heartbeat — a rhythmic, blinding pain radiating from the base of his skull. He tasted copper.
“Wakey, wakey, little prince,” a voice sneered.
Parker forced his eyes open. His vision swam, then focused.
𝗖𝗁𝘪n𝘦𝘴e 𝗻𝘰ve𝗅s 𝘵𝗋𝗮𝗻s𝗅аt𝗲𝗱 o𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝘭𝗇𝗈𝘷𝗲𝗅𝘀.cо𝘮
Standing in front of him was a man who looked as though he had been carved from granite and bad decisions. He was bald, his scalp tattooed with a spiderweb pattern, wearing a tactical vest over a stained tank top. In his right hand, he flipped a butterfly knife open and closed. Click-clack. Click-clack.
“Where is the override code?” the man asked. His voice was bored and casual, as though he were asking for the time.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Parker mumbled. His tongue felt too large for his mouth.
The man sighed. He stepped forward and drove his fist into Parker’s stomach.
Parker doubled over, retching dryly, the chair legs screeching against the metal floor.
“Don’t lie to me,” the man said, crouching down until his face was inches from Parker’s. “The Kensington Vault. The subterranean level. Liam Kensington changed the security protocols before he went under the knife. You’re the tech guy. You’re the hacker. You know the biometric bypass sequence.”
“There is no sequence,” Parker gasped, blood and spit dripping onto his shirt. “It’s retinal and voice print. You can’t bypass it with a code.”
“Wrong answer,” the man whispered.
He stood and brought the knife down.
Parker screamed as the blade pierced the meat of his thigh — not a deep stab, just enough to find muscle, a precise and agonizing puncture that sent white-hot fire shooting up his leg.
“The Mastermind is dead!” Parker yelled, tears squeezing from his eyes. “It’s over! Who are you working for?”
The man twisted the knife slightly. “The Mastermind was a visionary. But his systems live on. And we are the ones who keep the servers running.”
Outside, the shipyard was a graveyard of shadows.
Skye moved low, keeping behind a stack of rotting pallets. The rain had started — a cold, miserable drizzle that soaked through her coat instantly.
“Heat signatures inside,” Felix’s voice crackled in her earpiece. He was back at the van, monitoring the drone feeds. “Three hostiles. One hostage. Parker’s heart rate is through the roof. He’s in pain.”
Skye’s hand tightened on the grip of her pistol. “We breach. Now.”
“Wait,” Alistair caught her arm. He pointed upward.
On top of the container stack, twenty feet above the ground, a silhouette moved. Victoria had kicked off her heels and was moving barefoot across the wet metal, silent as a phantom.
“She has the high ground,” Alistair whispered. “Let her initiate.”
Inside the container, the bald man pulled the knife from Parker’s leg and wiped the blood on Parker’s shirt. “Let’s try again. The bypass.”
A sound cut through the air.