Chapter 854
The echo of the gunshot faded, replaced by the sound of Travis’s ragged breathing.
He stood motionless, the smoking gun hanging from his hand, staring at Felix’s body. It looked so real. Blood was pooling on the concrete beneath him.
“Move!” Celeste barked.
Travis snapped out of it. He stepped around Felix — careful not to step on him — and walked toward the stairs leading to the catwalk. He climbed the metal steps with legs that felt like lead. At the top, Celeste was waiting.
He handed her the briefcase.
She opened it. Inside lay a single, gold-plated hard drive. Celeste ran a finger over its surface, her voice dropping to something almost reverent.
“The Oracle Master List,” she whispered. “Skye Sterling’s soul.”
She snapped the case shut. “And the tracker is deactivated.” She tossed the remote over the railing. It clattered onto the floor below.
“Thank you,” Travis whispered, backing away.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Celeste smiled cruelly. “You’re still useful.”
“What?”
𝗢𝗋𝘨𝘢ո𝘪𝘻е у𝗈𝘶𝗋 li𝗯𝘳𝖺𝗿𝘆 oո 𝗀𝘢𝗅n𝘰𝗏𝗲𝗅s.𝗰o𝗺
“You’re coming with me,” Celeste said. “I need a scapegoat when the Feds realize the money is gone.”
“No!” Travis shouted.
Celeste drew her weapon. “Not a request.”
Below them, Felix’s body moved.
He sat up and pulled a second gun from his ankle holster.
Pop. Pop.
Two shots. Celeste’s guards on the ground dropped, clutching their legs.
Celeste spun around. “What the —”
From the shadows of the rafters, Alistair Thorne descended on a zipline. He didn’t land gracefully — he landed with the force of a wrecking ball, slamming into the railing just feet from Celeste.
She reacted with terrifying speed. She spun and drove a kick into Alistair’s ribs. He grunted but lunged forward, his hand seizing the strap of the tablet hanging from her belt. They struggled in a brutal, close-quarters clash — Celeste driving an elbow into Alistair’s face and forcing him back, but not before he wrenched the tablet free.
“You’re dead!” Celeste screamed, realizing she had lost her control unit.
She didn’t stay to fight. She turned and sprinted toward an open skylight above the catwalk, where a rope ladder dangled in the darkness.
Below, Skye stepped out from behind a stack of crates, her weapon raised. “It’s over, Celeste!” she called up, firing a warning shot that sparked against the metal walkway.
Celeste looked at Alistair holding her tablet, then down at Skye, then across at Felix — who was standing now, wiping fake blood from his shirt. For a moment, she was still. Then she began to laugh. It was a manic, high-pitched sound that echoed through the warehouse.
“Over?” she screeched. “You think this is over? I’ve already sent the transfer orders! The assets are mine! And without me, you’ll never find the prison!”
“Not if you’re in custody,” Alistair said, advancing on her.
Celeste lunged for the ladder.
“Alistair!” Skye shouted.
He sprinted, but Celeste was fast. She grabbed the ladder and scrambled upward. On the roof above them, a helicopter engine roared to life.
“You can’t catch smoke!” Celeste yelled down.