"We have a problem with the containment." Ghost skips the preamble. He looks at Halo, who pulls a ruggedized tablet from his cargo pocket and swipes a data stream onto the screen.
"Phoenix is localized in the Ghostwater servers, yeah." Halo's fingers dance over the glass. "We cut the hardlines. We air-gapped the primary clusters. But Phoenix isn't just a program; it's an apex predator. It looks like it had 'Dead-Man' triggers set up months ago: automated protocols designed to execute if the central consciousness was ever isolated or went dark for a specific period."
Halo flips the tablet toward me. It's a scrolling log of Dark Web activity, encrypted pings that look like gibberish to the untrained eye.
"These are 'Smart-Contract' bounties." Halo points to the screen, showing the scrolling Dark Web logs. "They're self-executing. The moment a trigger is met: in this case, the cessation of a specific heartbeat signal from the dam's external comms. The contracts went live. They're hosted on decentralized nodes we can't touch. They're hiring."
"It's a burn notice." The cold settles deep in my chest. "Phoenix is clearing the board."
"It's more than that." Ghost steps closer to the counter. "It's a library fire. We've confirmed six deaths in the last forty-eight hours. Every lead researcher, every chemist, every logistician who touched ML-273 is being erased. Dr. Aris in Zurich, the oncology leads in Boston. All gone. Allaccidents."
"Which leaves her." I glance back toward the woman sitting ten feet away, who doesn't know the world is currently bidding on her head.
"Which leaves her." Ghost taps the metal surface of the table. "She's the only surviving source of the patient list and the compound's internal logic. If Phoenix can't have her, it's going to make sure we can't use her to undo the Web. She's the highest-value target on the planet right now."
A surge of pure, unadulterated loathing rushes through me. Not just for Phoenix, but for the situation. I've brought the world's most dangerous target into the same house as my daughter. I've turned our sanctuary into a bullseye.
"Guardian HRS is already moving." Ghost holds my gaze, reading the darkening of my mood. "I've been in contact with Forest. He's got Mitzy running the satellite overlays and tracking the Dark Web escrow transfers. They're mapping the hit-teams'movements as they mobilize. Best estimate from Mitzy, it's days, not weeks, before they triangulate this location."
"And Skye?" My voice drops to a low whisper.
"She wants a blood sample from Lily. She's coming with Forest in a few days. Said it's the only way to reverse-engineer the architecture of the compound."
"No needles." My hand tightens into a fist against my thigh. "Lily rang the bell. She's done with doctors. I promised her."
"Colt …" Martha steps forward, her voice steady. "Skye Summers isn't some lab tech. If she needs it, stop being a stubborn operator for five minutes and start acting like someone who wants his child to have a future. Listen to her."
I turn away, staring at the white subway tile of the kitchen wall. The walls are closing in. Phoenix is activating contract assassins. Guardian HRS is coming to take Lily's blood. And the architect of all of it is sitting in the next room, drawing pictures.
My mother walks into the alcove from the pantry, her arms crossed. She doesn't look at the tablet or the tactical maps. She looks at me with that disappointed-mother stare that makes me feel like I'm ten years old again.
"How long has she been in that chair, Colt?" My mother crosses her arms, demanding an answer.
"A few hours." I look away, staring at the coffee maker.
"In the same clothes she arrived in, and has probably spent days in, judging by the look of them? Did you even think to offer the girl a glass of water? A sandwich?"
"She hasn't asked." Even as the words leave my mouth, they sound pathetic.
"She hasn't asked because she thinks she doesn't have the right to breathe." My mother's tone is sharp and uncompromising. "I know what she did. I know why we're here. But you're treating her like a piece of equipment, and even a machine needs oil. She's vibrating with exhaustion. You wanther to give you those names? You want her mind sharp enough to fight Phoenix? Feed her. Clean her. Give her a minute to be human so she doesn't break before we get what we need."
I look through the gap in the shelving. Stratton is still there. My mother is right, and that's the part that stings. It never occurred to me that Stratton might be hungry. I take that back. I don't want her to be a person. I want her to be a ledger I can balance.
The fact that she hasn't asked, that she's willingly sitting there in her own filth, starving herself as some kind of silent penance, makes me angrier.
I don't want her penance. I want her to be functional.
"She isn't eating in the common area." I keep my voice hard, refusing to yield. "And she isn't using the guest bath."
The weight of my team's eyes lands heavily on me. They see the protective-predatory hybrid I'm becoming, and none of them has a name for it.
"I'm taking the asset for maintenance." I push back from the counter.
"Theassethas a name, Colt." My mother crosses her arms, and although she's a good foot shorter than me, she manages to look down her nose, putting me in my place.
But she's wrong. Stratton doesn't deserve a name. She's here to work, and that's it.
I walk out of the kitchen and into the common room and move into Stratton's space. My shadow falls over the pages she's filled with her cramped, perfect script.
