The man was a wizard with technology.
Back in the Underground, it hadn’t taken Christian long to figure out which line on the east side the Dissent had been choosing as a smuggling route. Now, each member of Ahna’s SARTF team was set in strategic positions throughout the tunnel. The air around them was tense, and with no light to illuminate the space, the six of them were stuck using the night vision on their scopes to watch for movement.
Christian crouched behind a fractured support column, his pulse pacing in time with the seconds ticking past. The only sound was the faint static from the SARTF earpieces connecting the team on a closed channel.
He rose onto the balls of his feet at the sound of footsteps. Light ones. Deliberate. A single figure emerged from the corridor’s edge, their silhouette outlined in the glow of Christian’s scope. Though he couldn’t see the tattoo on her throat, Christian knew in his gut this was Mira. The silhouette was definitely feminine, and her posture suggested someone who’d done this a hundred times. Maybe more.
Mira didn’t speak. She just moved forward, step by step, toward the fake cache Vex had left for her.
Christian tensed. They were supposed to wait until she grabbed the package to let her feel safe. But Mira stopped and inhaled sharply. Her chin lifted a fraction as she scanned the tunnel too precisely. Then she turned on her heel.
“She knows we’re here,” Christian snapped into the comm. “Engaging pursuit.”
Mira sprinted, and Christian took off after her, flicking on his vest’s ultralight. His boots pounded the stone. “Imara, light her up. I can’t see shit.”
“Karma’s up,” she replied. “I’ve got Mira’s heat signature. Sending it to you now.”
A ping rang through his biochip. Christian tapped on his comm, and Mira’s silhouette fixed onto his eyepiece.
The tunnel twisted, narrowing, then burst into a vaulted tram chamber scattered with debris and hanging wires. Mira moved like liquid, slipping through gaps and rebounding off walls with incredible efficiency. But Christian kept pace, skimming the edge of every turn with practiced ease. These tunnelshadonce been home.
“Don’t lose her,” Ahna growled through their SARTF earpiece.
“Not planning to.”
Mira ducked through a crumbled conduit hatch. Christian followed without hesitation, glass crunching beneath his boots.
A bullet whizzed past his head.Fuck, that was close.
Mira fired another shot, and Christian flattened himself against the stone wall beside him.
Mira’s location flickered on his eyepiece before disappearing. “Imara—”
“I know,” she replied. “Karma’s being a bitch. Give me ten seconds.”
Fuck.
Christian hesitated, listening for the sound of Mira’s footsteps. She was below him now.
He grabbed a dangling pipe to control his descent before hitting the ground in a crouch. The drop bit through his knees. “North access junction,” he barked at Imara.
A moment later, Karma flew over his head.
“Got her!” Imara said. “She’s taking a hard right through what looks like a collapsed tram line. Lighting her up now.”
Christian picked up speed as Mira’s silhouette popped back onto his eyepiece.
Ahead, Mira slid under a half-fallen security gate. Christian lunged to follow but caught his boot on exposed wire. He dropped to one knee, pain stabbing up his thigh, and swore.
“You good?” Ahna asked through his earpiece. She sounded winded, as if she were trying to keep up.
“Brilliant,” Christian replied before pushing to his feet and chasing Mira’s figure deeper into the junction.
The tunnel was choked now with low-slung cables, collapsed panels, and sludge. But Christian knew this path. It was a dead-end loop.
“She’s cornered,” he said. “I’m cutting her off at a drain chute. Stay on her.”
He dropped to all fours and crawled through a low bypass tube, surfacing just ahead of her trajectory. In seconds, he had his pistol pointed in Mira’s direction. His chest rose and fell with deep, rapid breaths.
