Chapter 1080
Alistair stopped and turned to face the room. He looked like a bored bodyguard waiting for his mistress — but his hand was inside his jacket, gripping the hilt of his gun.
Skye slipped into the chair at terminal three. Her fingers flew across the keyboard. Password protected. Of course.
She pulled a USB drive from her clutch — Felix’s skeleton key program. She jammed it into the port.
The screen flickered. Access Granted.
She searched: Transport. Outgoing. Today.
There it was. Subject: L. Graves. Status: In Transit. Destination: The Trident Platform. Coordinates: 39.1, -73.5. International Waters.
“I’ve got it,” Skye whispered into her comms earpiece. “He’s on a chopper headed for the rig. They missed him by ten minutes.”
“Download the schematics and let’s go,” Alistair replied. “We have eyes on us.”
She hit download. The progress bar crawled. Fifty percent. Seventy.
A hand landed on her shoulder — heavy and hard.
“You’re not authorized for this station,” a voice growled.
Skye froze. She looked up. A security guard built like a vending machine was staring down at her.
“I… was just checking my email,” Skye stammered, playing the dumb tourist.
“On a secure intranet?” He reached for his radio. “Code Red. Intruder at station three.”
The room erupted.
Alistair moved. He didn’t draw his gun immediately — he spun, driving his elbow into the guard’s throat. The man gagged and crumpled.
“Run!” Alistair shouted.
He drew his weapon now. Two shots. The overhead lights shattered, and the room plunged into emergency red lighting.
Chaos.
Skye grabbed the USB drive and scrambled over the desk. Bullets sparked against the metal casing of the servers.
“Move! Move!” Alistair seized Skye’s hand and hauled her toward the elevator.
Guards poured out of the side doors.
“The elevator is locked down!” Skye yelled, watching the panel go dark.
“Stairs!” Alistair kicked open a fire door.
They sprinted up the concrete stairwell. Her heels clattered against the steps. She kicked them off and ran barefoot on the cold concrete.
“They’re flanking us!” Alistair fired two shots down the stairwell.
They burst out into the alley behind the chapel. The cool, salt air hit Skye’s face like a slap.
“Car!” Alistair pointed to the convertible.
They jumped in. Alistair jammed a screwdriver into the ignition — a trick from his old life. The engine roared.
They peeled out of the alley just as the back door of the chapel flew open. Bullets shattered the rear windshield. Skye ducked, glass raining down through her hair.
“They have the coordinates!” Skye shouted over the wind. “Trident Platform — about a hundred miles offshore!”
“Hold on!” Alistair drifted around a corner and merged onto the main strip. They disappeared into the sea of traffic, just another car in the city of sin.
But they had what they came for. They knew where Lucian was going to die.