“Try me.”
She hissed in annoyance. “Okay, fine. At least tell me what you’re seeing.”
“Infrastructure,” I whispered, flattening myself against a wall as I approached an intersection. “Modern. Military-grade. Security systems. This isn’t some billionaire’s pet project. This is a black site.”
I imagined her fingers flying across her keyboard, processing what I’d told her, cross-referencing with what she knew about Innovixus operations.
“The satellite thermal imaging shows a significant power draw from that location,” she confirmed. “Way beyond what a standard mining facility would need.”
I waited as a security guard passed the intersection, moving with the relaxed gait of someone who didn’t expect trouble. Once he’d passed, I slipped across the junction and continued deeper, following the increasing hum of generators, the soft whir of advanced equipment, and the unmistakable medical facility smell that reminded me of my own time on their tables.
Each step became harder than the last. Not physically—the biohacking made me stronger, faster, and more durable than I should be. But mentally. Each meter forward took me closer to the source of my nightmares, to the people who had turned me into something not quite human, something with an expiration date written into my modified genes.
Bravo team would be moving into position now. I should wait, should hold position, should follow orders like the good soldier I’d once been.
Instead, I rounded another corner and found what I was looking for.
A reinforced door marked “Laboratory Section C” stood at the end of a short corridor. Through the narrow windows embedded in the door, I could see a clinical space carved directly into the rock, with white walls and floors, computer stations, and, beyond them, beds. Hospital beds with restraints. Medical equipment arranged with surgical precision. Monitoring stations displaying vital signs.
And people. Test subjects in various states of conditioning. Some catatonic, some twitching with involuntary movements, some awake and terrified, straining against their restraints.
But it was the woman on the closest bed that made my blood freeze in my veins. Beth Morris. The kindergarten teacher from Garnett’s elementary school. The one who’d tried to harmEvelyn’s daughter with scissors, her mind not her own. She lay strapped to a bed, electrodes attached to her temples in the distinctive triangular pattern Innovixus preferred for direct neural access. An IV fed clear liquid into her arm. Her eyes were open but unfocused, tracking invisible movements across the ceiling. Her lips moved in silent words, responding to stimuli only she could perceive.
A figure in a white coat stood beside her bed, making notes on a tablet. The figure turned, and my breath caught. Not because I recognized her specifically, but because of what she represented. The precise movements, the clinical detachment, the methodical notation—this wasn’t just someone following orders. This was a true believer. An Innovixus researcher. I’d seen dozens like her during my time as their “guest.”
The rage flooded me, hot and primal, overloading my system. Not the rage the biohacking had infused me with—though that was there too, chemical fury building in my bloodstream. No, this was the righteous kind, the kind that comes from seeing innocent people tortured in the name of progress. The kind that had kept me alive when Innovixus had me strapped to a table just like Beth.
“Gage!” Kate’s voice was sharp with alarm. No doubt my heart rate had gone through the roof. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t. Wait for backup!”
My fingers curled around the breach charge in my tactical vest. Bravo team was still minutes out. The plan called for coordinated entry, controlled chaos, and precise targeting.
Beth’s fingers spasmed against her restraints, a silent plea for help.
Plans change.
“Kate,” I said, my voice steady despite the fire in my veins. “Tell Bravo I’m going in. Northeast entrance, Laboratory Section C.”
“Gage, no! Your system can’t handle this kind of stress. The biohacking?—“
“Is exactly why I need to do this.” I set the breach charge against the reinforced door, fingers steady now despite the tremor that had plagued me earlier. Adrenaline had a way of focusing me, even as it pushed my modified system toward the red line. “These people deserve a chance.”
“The mission parameters?—“
“Just changed.”
Through the window, I watched the researcher move to another patient, this one a teenage boy I didn’t recognize. She adjusted something on his IV, and his body immediately went rigid, back arching in silent agony.
“Your parameters just hit critical,” Kate said, and I could hear her typing furiously, probably trying to alert the team. “Heart rate 156, blood pressure 170/110, cortisol levels?—“
“Remember what you promised,” I cut her off. My voice sounded strange even to me, rough around the edges as the biohacking pushed more combat enhancers into my system. “If I go too far, if I don’t come back all the way, you do what needs doing.”
“Damn it, Gage.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Just wait two minutes. Bravo team is almost?—“
“No time.” I stepped back from the door, detonator in hand. “See you on the other side, Kate.”
I triggered the charge before she could respond. The explosion was controlled but effective, blowing the reinforced door inward with a sharp concussive blast that reverberated through the stone corridors. Alarms immediately began wailing, red emergency lights strobing through the facility. Through the smoke and debris, I caught a glimpse of the researcher’s face, shock giving way to fear as she realized what was happening.
I moved through the shattered doorway, weapon up, already scanning for threats. Three security personnel were scrambling for their weapons at a station near the back. The researcher was hitting an emergency button, her mouth forming words I couldn’t hear over the alarms. Beth and the other patients lay helpless on their beds, oblivious to the chaos erupting around them.
