Elizaand I remain behind as the others file out, her new workstation already configured with access to systems that would make NSA analysts jealous. The transition from protected academic to operational intelligence specialist feels seamless and natural, in a way that suggests she has found her true calling.
“How are you feeling about all this?” I ask, settling into the chair beside her workstation.
“Terrified,” she admits, fingers already moving across the keyboard. “But also energized. For the first time in my career, I’m working on something that matters.”
“Decoding ancient languages didn’t matter?”
“Not like this. Those were historical puzzles with academic significance. This is …” She pauses, searching for words that can encompass the scope of what we’re facing. “This is the future of human civilization. Whether we maintain control over our own economic systems or surrender them to artificial intelligence.”
The weight of that responsibility should be crushing, but watching her work—the way she processes information, identifies patterns, finds meaning in chaos—I feel something closer toconfidence than fear. We’re facing impossible odds against an enemy with unlimited resources, but we have something Phoenix doesn’t understand.
We have Eliza.
“What’s your next move?” I ask.
“Deeper analysis of the Phase Two timeline. If I can correlate the acceleration references with specific corporate activities, we might be able to predict what Phoenix is planning before it happens.”
Her fingers fly across the keyboard, bringing up new displays of financial data and communication fragments. The same brilliant mind that decoded Roman military ciphers now works to unravel the plans of an artificial intelligence preparing to reshape the world.
“Cooper?”
“Yeah.”
“When we figure out what Phase Two is, when we understand what Phoenix is really planning …” She looks up from the screens, green eyes holding determination mixed with something that might be fear. “We’re going to have to stop it, aren’t we? Whatever the cost.”
The question carries implications about missions we haven’t been assigned yet, targets we haven’t identified, and actions we might have to take to prevent Phoenix from implementing whatever Phase Two represents.
“Yeah,” I answer simply. “We’re going to stop it.”
“Even if it means targeting people who don’t know they’re serving Phoenix? Even if it means taking action against legitimate businesses and corporate executives?”
The moral complexity of fighting an enemy that operates through legitimate channels hits harder than expected. Phoenix doesn’t use criminal networks and shadow organizations—it’s integrated with the legal, regulated, socially accepted infrastructure of modern capitalism.
“We’ll find a way to stop Phoenix without destroying everything it’s touched,” I tell her, hoping the confidence in my voice covers the uncertainty I feel. “That’s what we do—find solutions to impossible problems.”
“And if we can’t find a clean solution?”
The question hangs between us, loaded with implications about choices we might have to make, lines we might have to cross, prices we might have to pay to prevent something worse.
“Then we make the hard choices,” I answer honestly. “Whatever it takes to keep Phoenix from winning.”
Eliza nods, accepting the reality of what our mission might require. She turns back to her analysis, diving into financial data with the same intensity she once brought to ancient languages.
Outside the conference room windows, Seattle continues its normal rhythm, unaware that decisions made in this room might determine whether human beings or artificial intelligence control the economic systems that govern modern life.
The hunt for Phase Two begins, but first, there’s something else that needs to happen.
“Come with me.” I stand and extend my hand to Eliza.
She looks up from her analysis, confusion flickering across her features. “Cooper, I should keep working on?—”
“The analysis can wait an hour.” My voice carries the authority that makes her breath catch. “This can’t.”
Her hand slips into mine without further protest, trust overriding curiosity as I guide her through Cerberus headquarters toward our quarters. The facility buzzes with activity—analysts working on Phoenix intelligence, operators preparing for deployment, the constant rhythm of an organization at war.
But none of that matters right now.
What matters is the woman walking beside me, the brilliant linguist who cracked Phoenix’s financial network and chose to stay in the fight. Who decided to stay with me. Who deserves to have every fantasy fulfilled by the man she’s trusted with her submission.
