Elena nodded once, sharply.
Webb reached out and pulled the gag down around her neck. Elena gasped, sucking in clean air, working her jaw to ease the ache.
“Better?” Webb asked pleasantly.
“You’re insane,” Elena rasped. “You think I’m going to help you after everything you’ve done? After you tried to kill me? After you’ve been selling my work to terrorists and dictators?”
“I think you’ll do whatever I tell you to do,” Webb replied, “because the alternative is watching everyone you care about die. Those Star brothers, for instance. Very impressive men. Very loyal to you.” His smile turned cold. “Very easy to find, now that I know who they are.”
Elena’s heart clenched, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. She couldn’t let him see how much that threat affected her.
“You won’t touch them,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
“I won’t have to—as long as you cooperate.” Webb gestured toward the jet. “Shall we?”
The guards pushed her up the stairs and into the aircraft’s luxurious cabin. Leather seats, polished wood accents, a full bar stocked with expensive liquor. This was Webb’s mobile office,Elena realized. The place where he conducted his most sensitive business.
They forced her into a seat near the back, and one of the guards secured her ankles to the seat base with another zip tie. Her wrists remained bound behind her, the position increasingly uncomfortable as the plastic dug deeper into her flesh.
Webb settled into a seat across from her, crossing his legs and pulling out his phone. “We’ll be in the air shortly. I have a facility in Eastern Europe where you’ll be quite comfortable while you work. State-of-the-art equipment, anything you need.”
“A prison,” Elena said flatly.
“A laboratory,” Webb corrected. “With considerably better security than your previous accommodations.” He began scrolling through his phone, apparently losing interest in the conversation.
Elena watched him, her mind racing.
She wasn’t afraid anymore. That was the strangest part. Somewhere between the van and the tarmac, her fear had burned away, replaced by something harder and colder. Determination. Resolve.
Because she knew something Webb didn’t.
During those long hours at the safe house, staring at the kill switch that had neutralized her virus, Elena had finally understood what she’d been missing. The countermeasure was elegant, sophisticated—and it had a flaw. A tiny gap in its logic that she could exploit with a few lines of code.
She knew how to destroy WATCHDOG. Knew it with absolute certainty. All she needed was access to Webb’s network for thirty seconds—long enough to send a single email containing the modified virus. The email itself would be the delivery mechanism, embedding the code into WATCHDOG’scommunication protocols the moment it was opened by any device connected to the system.
And Webb’s phone was connected to the system. She could see the WATCHDOG interface glowing on his screen as he scrolled through security reports.
If she could get him to open an email from his phone...
“Mr. Webb.” One of the guards approached, holding a tablet. “The pilot says we’re cleared for takeoff in five minutes. But there’s an urgent message from Katarina. She says she needs to speak with you immediately.”
Webb frowned and took the tablet, setting his phone down on the armrest beside him. “What does she want now?”
He turned slightly away from Elena, focusing on the tablet’s screen. His phone sat unattended, inches from his hand, the WATCHDOG interface still active.
Elena’s heart pounded. This was it. Her one chance.
She shifted in her seat, testing the slack in her bonds. Her wrists were secured behind her back, but her fingers were still free. If she could just reach his phone...
“The Chinese delegation is threatening to withdraw,” Webb muttered, still focused on the tablet. “Apparently they’re concerned about security after last night’s... incident.”
Elena leaned forward slowly, carefully, using the motion to mask the way her bound hands were straining toward the armrest. Her fingers brushed the edge of Webb’s phone.
Please, Lord. Please let this work.
She grasped the phone and pulled it toward her, angling her body to hide the movement. Webb was still absorbed in his conversation with Katarina, his back partially turned.
Elena’s fingers fumbled across the screen, muscle memory guiding her even though she couldn’t see what she was doing. Email app. New message. The address she’d memorized yearsago—a back door she’d built into WATCHDOG’s architecture that even Webb didn’t know existed.
