Chapter 759
Chapter 759:
Chief Liu’s office was a shrine to bureaucracy, stacked high with files and smelling of stale coffee. He looked at Skye, then at Alistair, then at Lucian, who wore a baseball cap pulled low.
“Let me get this straight,” Liu said, rubbing his temples. “You want me to ‘lend’ you classified tactical gear so you can raid a suspected illegal medical black site, based on a video feed that might be a deepfake p>
“Yes,” Skye said.
“And in return p>
Skye placed a folder on his desk. “I give you the names of the three officers in your precinct who are on the Syndicate payroll. The ones who deleted the security footage of the cathedral bombing before Homeland Security arrived p>
Liu’s hand stopped mid-rub. He looked at the folder. This was the missing link—the corruption rotting his department.
“This is real?” Liu asked.
“Verified by Julian Vance and cross-referenced with Cain Capital’s hidden payroll ledger,” Skye said.
Liu stared at the folder. It was a career-maker. Or a career-ender.
“Locker B,” Liu said quietly. “The code is 8842. The cameras in the hallway will be on a maintenance loop for ten minutes starting at 2:00 a.m p>
“Thank you, Chief,” Skye said.
“I didn’t see you,” Liu said, opening the folder. “Get out p>
At 2:00 a.m., the hallway of the precinct was empty. Skye, Alistair, and Lucian moved quickly. They punched in the code. The locker opened.
Inside were black cases stamped with military insignias. Rebreathers. Night-vision goggles. Tactical vests.
“Christmas came early,” Lucian whispered, grabbing a suppressed MP5.
“Nonlethal only,” Skye ordered, grabbing a taser. “We’re rescuers, not executioners p>
“Speak for yourself,” Lucian muttered, but he grabbed a bag of flashbangs instead.
𝗥еѕ𝘱𝖾𝘤t 𝗍𝗁𝘦 𝘰r𝗶𝗀𝘪ոa𝗅 𝗰o𝘯𝗍en𝗍 f𝘳𝗈𝗆 bе𝘭ո𝘰𝗏el𝘀.с𝗼𝘮
They loaded the gear into the SUV.
“We hit the intake pipe at 0400,” Alistair said, checking his watch. “That gives us two hours to prep p>
“I need to send a message,” Skye said.
She walked away from the car and pulled out her burner phone. She didn’t call Liam. That was too dangerous. He was in deep, surrounded by wolves.
Instead, she opened a draft email in a dead account they shared. She typed a single line:
Found the Chrysalis. Going in for the King. Burn the hive if we fail.
She saved the draft. If Liam checked the account, he would know.
She walked back to the car. Alistair was watching her. He knew what she’d done. He didn’t ask.
“Let’s go get wet,” Skye said.
The river water was freezing, a sludge of industrial runoff and silt, black as ink.
Skye adjusted her rebreather mouthpiece. The world narrowed to the sound of her own breathing and the green glow of Alistair’s fins ahead of her.
They found the intake grate. Lucian used a laser cutter to slice through the bars. Bubbles rose, silver in the torchlight. They swam into the pipe. It was tight, claustrophobic. Skye fought down panic.