Chapter 416
Chapter 416:
She prayed Alistair remembered the game they played as children in the garden maze.
The code.
Turtle: slow-moving target.
Wave: at sea.
Star: look to the stars. Navigate.
It was a long shot. A Hail Mary. But Alistair was the smartest man she knew.
“Done,” she said, handing the phone back.
Lucian checked the post. It was live. The comments were already flooding in. Stock bots would pick it up in seconds.
“Good girl,” he said, pocketing the phone.
Skye took a sip of wine to hide the trembling in her hands.
Come on, Alistair. Read between the pixels.
Alistair’s phone buzzed with a priority alert.
He was in the helicopter, headset on, staring out at the black ocean.
“Sir,” Felix’s voice crackled in his ear. “Skye just posted p>
Alistair grabbed his tablet and pulled up the image. A glass. A dark window.
He read the caption. Taking some time…
“Bullshit,” he muttered. “She doesn’t talk like that p>
Then he saw the emojis.
Alistair froze. A memory hit him—ten years old, hiding in a treehouse.
“If I ever get lost, look for the star p>
“Julian!” Alistair shouted into the comms. “Analyze the image! Not the metadata—the image itself! And decode the emoji sequence p>
“Way ahead of you,” Julian replied from the base. “The emojis are the childhood cipher. Turtle means slow speed. Wave means open water. Star means celestial navigation p>
“I’m looking at the reflection in the window,” Julian continued, his typing furious. “The stars… that’s Orion’s Belt, but the angle is low. Based on the time of posting, that puts her in the southern quadrant. And wait, look at the faint green reflection on the rim of the wine glass. It’s mirroring a digital display on the wall p>
A moment of silence that felt like a lifetime as Julian ran the enhancement algorithms.
𝖱𝖾аd wi𝘁hou𝗍 𝘪𝗇𝘵e𝗿rupt𝗶𝘰𝗇𝗌 𝗼𝗻 𝖻e.c𝗼𝗺
“Got it,” Julian yelled. “It’s a heading repeater. 175 degrees. Heading south-southeast. Combined with the star angle… she’s in Sector 7G p>
Alistair looked at the pilot. “You have the coordinates p>
“Locked in, sir. ETA twenty minutes p>
Alistair checked his weapon. “Let’s go p>
On the Poseidon, the mood had shifted.
Skye was eating her soufflé (which the chef had miraculously produced out of fear). Lucian was relaxed, drinking his wine.
“You know,” Lucian said, leaning back, “I’ve been thinking. Why stop at a partnership? You fit in here. You have a taste for the finer things. We could be a power couple, Skye. Think about it. Oracle and Graves Industries. We would own the Pacific p>
Skye looked at him. He was delusional. He actually thought kidnapping her was a valid courtship strategy. He wanted her mind, her access, and her company’s biometrics.
“I’ll think about it,” she lied smoothly. “But I’m tired. Can I go to bed p>
“Of course.” Lucian stood. “I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go diving p>
He left the room, locking the door behind him.
Skye waited until his footsteps faded. Then she moved.