She closed the drawer, the lock engaging with a soft click. She would ensure the truth was known, one way or another. Her father would fall. The system would crumble. And if her own destruction was the price, so be it.
The tablet on the table vibrated, a single pulse that sent her heart racing. She checked the time—5:40 AM. The city would be waking soon, Veyra changing shifts, workers preparing for the day, the wheels of the Heart beginning their relentless turning.
Lira crossed to the table and lifted the device, pressing it to her ear. “Yes?”
“They’re ready.” Farrow’s voice was soft. “Are you sure about this?”
Lira closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath that filled her lungs with resolve. “Yes.”
She ended the call without another word. There was nothing more to say. No dramatic declarations, no rousing speeches. Just the quiet certainty of what was to come.
Chapter thirty-four
7 AM
Jamesonwatchedtheheavymetal door of the shelter seal shut with a dull thud that echoed through the underground chamber. The last group of Cardinal residents—mothers clutching children to their chests, old men leaning on makeshift canes, workers still in factory uniforms—disappeared behind four feet of reinforced steel. Their faces had been a mixture of confusion and fear, but they’d gone willingly enough when told bombs might fall today. No one in Cardinal questioned the possibility of Heart violence. They’d lived too long in its shadow.
“That’s the last of them,” said a voice at his shoulder. One of Farrow’s people, a woman with short black hair, brown eyes, and a balaclava covering the rest of her face. “All sectors report clear.”
Jameson nodded, checking the time on his comms unit. 7:02 AM. Eleven hours until the real fight began, but their work had started long before dawn. Through the night, his rebels had moved through the Boundary, guiding people to the shelters he’d been reinforcing for years. The operation had gone more smoothly than he’d dared hope.
The Cardinal had been easier to manage, less people with more of a willingness to listen to authority. Courtesy of the Heart’s labor mandates pushed on them.
“Any trouble at the eastern quadrant?” he asked, remembering the factory overseer who’d threatened to report them to the Veyra. The man hadn’t lived long enough to make good on his threat, but Jameson needed to be sure no alarm had been raised.
“None,” she replied. “We’re clear across the board.”
His mind flashed to the mother in the Boundary, cradling her dead son as she begged Jameson to make them pay. Her face, contorted with grief, had haunted his dreams for the past three nights. Today, he would keep his promise to her. Today, Maximus Serel and his golden mask would fall.
He straightened his spine, turning to the woman. “What’s your name?”
“Chandler, sir, but my friends call me Hawk.”
A corner of his lip twitched up at the name. “Well, Hawk, if I don’t get time to tell you this later, thank you. We would not have been able to secure the Cardinal on time without you.”
“Yes, of course, sir. My honor.” He could see the smile in her eyes as he turned away from her.
“Signal the teams,” he said, already moving toward the maintenance access panel at the far end of the corridor. “We move in five.”
Hawk melted back into the shadows of the tunnels, leaving Jameson alone with his thoughts. He crouched beside the panel, fingers working the encrypted lock Callum had reprogrammed days ago. The metal cover slid away with barely a whisper, revealing the dark tunnel beyond.
Shadera’s face slipped into his head, and the thought of what would happen to her today sent a surge of rage through his body so intense that his vision blurred at the edges. He’d heard enough at their last meeting of the Vow ceremony, and he could barely stomach it.
He forced the image away. Rage made men careless. Rage got men killed. And he couldn’t afford to die, not today. Not when she needed him.
His comms unit vibrated against his wrist. “Ghost,” Callum’s voice came through, low and distorted, “surveillance loop is active. Heart security is blind to the Cardinal sectors. You’re clear to proceed.”
“Copy that,” Jameson replied, adjusting the earpiece that would keep him connected to the rebel network throughout the day. “Moving to position alpha. What’s your status?”
“In place at the club. You have two hours to make it to the Heart before patrols start.”
“Understood,” Jameson answered as the line fell silent.
He straightened, rolling his shoulders to release the tension that had settled there. Behind him, shadows had coalesced into people—his team assembling silently, their faces grim. One hundred men and women drawn from the most skilled soldiers from the Boundary and Cardinal, each armed with Veyra weapons provided by Mikel, smuggled piece by piece through Callum’s networks.
Each ready to die for the cause if necessary.
He could see the determination in their eyes, the readiness. Some bore fresh wounds from the Veyra clash days ago. Others carried older scars—the visible marks of Heart oppression etched into flesh and bone. All of them had lost something to Maximus’s regime. All of them had reason to fight.
