“And that’s the good news,” Ozzy added. “The bad news is tomorrow night’s synchronization event.”
My stomach dropped. “Synchronization event?”
“A synchronized pulse through the neural network,” Ethan explained. “It’s like a firmware update, but for human brains. Ozzy, details.”
The tech specialist’s fingers flew across his keyboard. “They’ve been building toward this for days. Each broadcast from the cell tower has been conditioning the subjects, preparing their neural pathways. The synchronization event will lock those pathways permanently.”
“Like setting concrete,” Alistair added. “Right now, the effects are reversible. After tomorrow night, they won’t be.”
Oh, God. Two hundred people—people like Beth, who’d once shown such kindness to Sophia—trapped forever in their own minds, aware but unable to control their actions. “We have to stop it.”
“Thatisthe plan,” Ozzy said, somewhat grumpily. “The mining facility is holding resistant subjects for ‘enhanced treatment,’” he continued, bringing up schematics that looked like they’d been hacked from a secure server. “Those who didn’t respond to the initial water-based compound are being given direct neural injections.”
Gage’s hands tightened on the edge of the table, his knuckles going white. I watched as a tremor ran through him, his jaw clenched so hard I could see a muscle jumping in his cheek.
Kate’s voice softened through the speakers. “Breathe through it, Gage. Count of four.”
He closed his eyes briefly, then nodded once. Whatever had happened to him at Innovixus’s hands, it must have been brutal.
Ethan surveyed the room, his sharp gaze landing on each team member in turn. “This will be a three-phase operation,” he announced. “Phase One: Dutch coordinates local resistance to evacuate unaffected civilians while Preacher establishes a field medical station at the rally point.”
Dutch nodded. “Six miles east of town, there’s the old empty resort lodge on Lone Quill Reservoir. Enough room for triage and temporary housing.”
“Phase Two,” Ethan continued. “Team Alpha—“ he looked at Trent, Flynn, and Rafe, “—assaults the cell tower. Take it down by any means necessary. Phase Three, Team Bravo—” he nodded to Decker, Leo, and Lyric, “—infiltrates the mining facility via service tunnels. The primary objective is intel recovery and locating resistant subjects. The secondary objective is sabotage of communication systems.”
“The tunnels haven’t been used in decades,” Dutch cut in. “They could be collapsed in sections, but I’ve got maps.”
“Appreciate it,” Lyric said.
“Team Charlie—“ Ethan continued, including himself and Gage with a sweep of his hand “—holds perimeter. We maintain communication links and ensure extraction routes stay open. Nolan will provide air support.”
Nolan straightened in his chair and raised his hand to his temple in a lazy salute. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ll be cruising at an altitude of fuck-all-nothing because we’re staying low to avoid getting our asses shot off. Flight time to your destination will be however long it takes me to not die, and our in-flight service today includes suppressing fire, emergency extractions, and—if you’re very lucky—not crashing.”
Leo snorted into his coffee.
Kate’s voice came through the laptop speakers, dry as dust. “Nolan, you’re not funny.”
“Disagree,” Nolan replied cheerfully. “I’m hilarious. You’re just mad I didn’t include you in the safety demonstration.”
“The only demonstration you’re giving is how to be a walking HR violation,” Kate shot back.
Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t take the bait. “As I was saying?—“
“In the event of a water landing,” Nolan continued, clearly not done, “your seat cushion can be used as a flotation device. In the event of Bricks looking at me like that, I shut the hell up and fly the damn helicopter.”
Flynn shook his head, grinning. “You really do have a death wish.”
“It’s called commitment to the bit,” Nolan said. “Some of us have personality.”
“Some of us have impulse control,” Alistair muttered.
“Not as fun, though, is it?”
Ethan’s voice cut through the banter like a blade. “Nolan.”
The Irishman held up both hands in surrender, still smirking. “Right. Air support. Got it. Keeping everyone not-dead from above. Extremely serious business.”
“Good,” Ethan said flatly. “Now, as I was saying before the comedy hour, Oz and Kate will provide technical support remotely.”
