Finally, the lock disengaged with a soft click.
Elena eased the door open and descended into darkness, her hand instinctively moving toward the hidden compartment in her camera bag. The basement corridor was lit only by emergency lights, casting everything in a dim red glow that made shadows seem to reach for her as she passed.
The server room was at the end of the hall, behind another secure door. This one required biometric access—a handprint scanner that would be impossible to bypass with Terrel’s device.
Elena had anticipated this. It was why Plan A had always included an element of improvisation.
She pressed herself against the wall beside the door and waited.
Two minutes. Three. Her muscles began to cramp from the awkward position.
Then footsteps echoed down the corridor, accompanied by voices.
“—told you, the auction goes as planned. The preliminary bids are already exceeding expectations.”
Elena’s blood chilled. That was Webb’s voice. She recognized it instantly, even after five years.
“And the security concerns?” A woman’s voice—Katarina, the assistant.
“Overblown. My systems would have flagged any known threats the moment they entered the property.” Webb’s laugh was cold. “The facial recognition alone screens against every intelligence database in the Western world.”
Elena pressed herself deeper into the shadows, grateful for Reed’s meticulous work on her disguise. If Webb’s systemshadn’t flagged her at the entrance, the prosthetics were doing their job.
“What about the photographer?” Katarina asked. “Something about her felt... off.”
“You worry too much, Katarina. She’s a magazine photographer, nothing more. Her credentials checked out, and more importantly, the system cleared her face. If she were anyone of concern, we’d know.”
The footsteps drew closer. Elena held her breath.
“Still,” Katarina persisted, “I’d like to keep an eye on her.”
“Do as you wish. But don’t let your paranoia distract from tonight’s main event. We have buyers from six countries waiting to bid on technology that will reshape global intelligence gathering. A photographer from some lifestyle magazine is the least of our concerns.”
They stopped directly in front of the server room door. Elena could hear Webb’s breathing, could smell his expensive cologne drifting through the darkness. She was close enough to reach out and touch him.
Close enough to end this right now.
Her hand moved toward her camera bag, toward the hidden Glock. One shot. That was all it would take. Five years of running, of hiding, of watching innocent people die because of technology she’d created—it could all end with one squeeze of the trigger.
No.The voice in her head was firm, steady.That’s not who you are. That’s not how this ends.
Elena forced her hand away from the weapon, forced herself to remain still as Webb pressed his palm to the biometric scanner. The door beeped and swung open, spilling light into the corridor.
“After you,” Webb said to Katarina, and they both stepped through.
The door began to swing shut behind them.
Elena made a split-second decision. She dove through the closing gap, rolling across the floor of the server room and coming up behind a rack of equipment before either of them could turn around.
Her heart hammered against her ribs as she crouched in the shadows, listening to Webb and Katarina move deeper into the room. They were discussing technical specifications, auction logistics, buyer preferences—information that would have been invaluable if Elena could focus on anything besides the blood pounding in her ears.
She needed to plant her virus—the one she’d spent three years developing specifically to destroy WATCHDOG from the inside out. That was the mission. Get access to the servers, upload the corrupting code, and get out before anyone knew she was there.
Elena waited until Webb and Katarina moved to the far side of the room, their backs to her position. Then she crept forward, staying low, using the server racks as cover.
The main terminal was ten feet away. Then eight. Then five.
She was reaching for Terrel’s device when her earpiece crackled—loud enough that Elena’s heart stopped.
