"You did," I agree.
I pick up the metronome. I stop the pendulum. The silence that rushes back into the room is deafening. "Thank you for your contribution to the arts."
I turn to leave. "Wait!" Marcus yells. "What about me? You can't leave me here like this!"
I stop at the door. I look back at him. "You hunted us in the snow," I say. "You shot him. You laughed about it."
I look at Nyx. "Leave him," I say. "But leave the door unlocked."
"You're letting him go?" Nyx asks, surprised.
"He can't walk," I say, pointing to the nerve damage in his leg. "And he’s bleeding. If he crawls out... maybe he survives. Maybe the rats get him."
I walk out. "Alaric taught me that hope is the cruelest form of torture."
We exit the containment cell. The heavy steel door clangs shut, but I don't spin the wheel. Let him hope. Let him crawl.
We walk into the main command center. The team is assembled. Six men and women in tactical gear. They look at me differently now. Before, I was the boss's girlfriend. Now, I am the woman who just dismantled a special forces commander with a ceramic knife.
"We have a target," I announce, my voice steady. "The Factory. District 9."
I walk to the weapon rack. I put down the ceramic knife. It’s too intimate for what comes next. I pick up the HK416 rifle I took from the asylum. I check the magazine. I pick up extra mags. I shove them into my vest. I pick up a flashbang. A smoke grenade.
"Intel suggests a fortified position," Nyx says, bringing up the schematics on the main screen. "Single entry point. Heavy guard presence. Estimated twenty hostiles."
"Twenty," I repeat. I look at the six operatives. Plus Nyx. Plus me. Eight against twenty. "We have the element of surprise," I say. "They think we are running. They think we are scared."
I look at the map. The factory is a labyrinth of old machinery and catwalks. "We don't knock," I say. "We breach. Hard and fast. Violence of action."
I point to the roof access. "Alpha Team takes the roof. Rappel down the elevator shafts. Flush them down." I point to the loading dock. "Bravo Team takes the perimeter. Cut the power. Kill the lights. Make them fight in the dark."
"And you?" Nyx asks.
"I'm taking the front door," I say.
"That's a kill box."
"Not if I drive a truck through it."
I look at the team. "Thorne is there. He will be watching the torture. He wants the money." I tap the screen. "We are going to give him a withdrawal he won't forget."
"Gear up," Nyx orders the team. "Wheels up in ten."
I walk to the bathroom sink. I wash Marcus's blood off my hands. It washes off easier this time. I look at my reflection. The girl who cried over a dead rabbit is gone. The girl who played Chopin is gone.
There is only the Director. And she is coming for her property.
[SCENE BREAK]
Location:The Factory (Basement Level)Time:02:00 AM
Alaric hangs in the dark. His arms are numb. His shoulders are on fire. The pain has become a white noise, a constant hum that drowns out thought. He has lost track of time. How long has he been here? Hours? Days? Thorne comes and goes. He asks questions. He uses the pliers. He uses the waterboarding cloth. Alaric hasn't said a word. Not a code. Not a number. He just hums.Rachmaninoff.
"Still stubborn," Thorne sighs, walking into the room. He is holding a coffee cup. He looks fresh, rested. "I admire it, really. Most men would have sold their mothers by now."
"I... don't have... a mother," Alaric croaks.
"Pity." Thorne sips his coffee. "My tech team is trying to brute-force your servers. It’s taking time, but we’ll get in. Eventually, the money will be mine. The land will be mine."
