94%… 97%…
Bishop walked into the bunker slowly, circling us like a shark. His eyes cataloged everything—the open crates, the laptop, our position. Suspicious but not certain.
But he was also the kind of man who’d kill on suspicion alone if given the chance.
100%.
The download completed with a soft chime that the running laptop fan covered. I palmed the USB while appearing to grip Mia’s hips, the drive disappearing into my pocket with skillful ease.
Bishop’s eyes narrowed, and he started moving toward the desk with purpose.
“You know what?” I spun Mia off the desk, setting her on her feet but keeping her close. “Maybe we should try the floor next. Dirty, but more room to work.”
The words came out crude enough to fit the character, buying us distance from the laptop. Bishop stopped, his expression still flat but something shifting in his eyes. Calculation. Assessment.
“Snake shouldn’t have left you alone,” he finally said, each word precise as a knife thrust.
“Tell him that. I’m just doing the job Oliver asked for.”
Bishop held my gaze for a long moment, then turned and walked out without another word. The kind of exit that meant he’d be watching closer now. Suspicious but without proof.
But hell, that had been true from the beginning.
Snake returned thirty seconds later, reeking of cigarettes and looking irritated to find Bishop’s retreating back.
“The fuck was he doing here?”
“Checking up on you, apparently.” I turned back to the laptop, typing in more legitimate inventory data. “Maybe he thinks you’re slacking on babysitting duty.”
Snake’s jaw tightened, but he resumed his position by the door without comment. We had another forty minutes to fill,keeping up the act of cataloging weapons while the USB drive burned like a hot coal in my pocket.
I went through the motions—opening crates, counting weapons, entering data. Mia played her part, standing close enough to seem like property but far enough not to interfere. Snake went back to his phone game, though his attention seemed sharper now, Bishop’s visit having put him on edge.
Two hours exactly. Snake checked his watch, then jerked his head toward the door. “Time’s up.”
I saved the spreadsheet file, shut down the laptop with deliberate care. Everything normal. Everything routine. Just a man doing the job he was hired for, while carrying enough stolen data to destroy Oliver’s entire operation.
If we lived long enough to deliver it.
Chapter 11
Mia
The bed shifted. Through the window, the sky was still pure black—had to be somewhere around three or four in the morning.
I’d been drifting in that half-sleep state where nightmares and reality blur together, where every sound could be footsteps, where shadows press against my eyelids like physical weight. The movement beside me snapped me fully awake, muscles coiling tight before my brain caught up.
Coop was sliding out from under the rough blanket, each movement calculated to minimize sound. A ghost leaving a haunted bed.
I lay still, watching him pull on his boots with practiced silence, lacing them by feel in the dark. Found his jacket by memory. The man moved like liquid shadow, years of special operations training evident in every deliberate step.
“You awake?” His whisper barely disturbed the air.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “Where are you going?”
He shifted closer to be sure the cameras didn’t pick up anything we were saying. “Need to transmit what I downloaded today. It’s important to get this out, no matter what.”
Meaning even if he and I didn’t get out. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to.
