Page 16 of Lying Lainey

“Rare breed is the right term for H, that’s for sure.” Kerian chuckled.

The doors opened to the elevator lobby and the security guard who held the door open. “This is me,” I said, stepping out.

“You planning on coming back tomorrow?” Kerian questioned.

I grinned at him and rolled my wrist. “I better. If I get carpal tunnel from all that paperwork, I’m gonna need the insurance to cover it.”

“Something tells me you’re gonna fit right in. See you in the morning,” he said before hitting the button for the top floor once more.

The pleased smile at those words lingered on my face as I walked through the lobby to the front doors. Interestingly enough, today had been a first in a certain area. Instead of acting like someone else to fit the needs of the job, somehow being myself had done the trick. Almost nothing of what I did or how I acted was fake.

When I made it down to the street, I’d planned on flagging down a cab, but an all-black sedan pulled up at the curb. The passenger window rolled down, and the driver wearing sunglasses and a mask, leaned over to peer up at me. “Get in.”

“I’m gonna go with no,” I replied instantly.

He grabbed his phone and flashed a picture of Trent at me. “Get. In.”

Well, fuck, the Syndicate. Just what I needed.

Pulling open the back door, I slipped in as if he were a taxi. Wasting no time, the man pulled away from the curb and was off to who the hell knows where. The man didn’t say anything further, and I didn’t ask any questions. The Syndicate had proven enough to me that I didn’t want to know any more. Tell me what my job was and let me get to it. This whole dropping tidbits of information was getting old real fast.

Ten minutes later in true evil-mastermind fashion, we pulled up to a warehouse on the docks. The building looked like it shouldn’t still be standing with how dilapidated it looked. When the driver still didn’t say anything and just hit the button to unlock the doors, I got out. My purse buzzed from the phone, and I pulled out.

Enter the warehouse, go up the stairs then hit enter on the laptop in the office.

“Super,” I grumbled, shoving the phone back in my purse. “Like I haven’t watched enough horror movies to know this is how I die. Guess what, girl? You’re not the main character in the story of your life. Nope, you get to be the leading lady’s best friend or rival. It’ll be fun, go on, enter the creepy building that must be the entrance to hell.”

Turning the knob, I pulled, but the door didn’t budge. Trying again, I put some weight into the pull, and it popped open, sending me stumbling back a few steps. I brushed my hand off on my skirt, checking to see if my oh-so-pleasant driver had witnessed my floundering. Thankfully, the asshole was looking at something on his phone. Shoulders back, head held high, I entered the warehouse, assuming there was surveillance set up and I wasn’t going to look any more like an idiot than I already had.

My heels echoed in the empty space as the sunlight filtered in through various holes and cracks in the building. It gave me enough light to notice the metal staircase to walk up, which I grimaced at seeing it was the type with all the holes in it that my heels could easily slip through. Gripping the railing, I tried to walk on the balls of my feet so my foot didn’t get stuck. Once at the top, I realized the decking was also made from this same material.

“Did they really think I was going to be wearing sneakers to work today?” I muttered as I carefully made my way to the office.

Hearing the metal groan, I sped up the pace, practically leaping into the office. Inside there was a folding table and chair with a laptop open on the table. These items had clearly been placed here recently since they were the only things not covered in an inch of dust. Gingerly, I sat, not trusting that the floor under my feet was going to hold, but I was sure the Syndicate didn’t want me dead just yet. Looking at the phone once more to ensure I remembered the instructions, I hit the enter key.

The screen went fuzzy as if it were a vintage television set before a person sat at a table, folded their hands, and leaned forward. The way it had been filled, I couldn’t tell who the person was other than their shape made me believe it was a man. When they started speaking, it came out as the same robotic-altered voice I’d heard this morning.

“Now that you’ve proven yourself capable of infiltrating Enigma Technologies, you will be provided with the mission details,” they announced, as if they weren’t really sure if I would be able to pull it off. “Your target is Kerian Lewis, more specifically, the code he’s working on for Cyclone Software. Reuben Watts is aware of the UOS and is trying to create a code that will scour the dark web for information about us. This cannot be allowed to happen.”

I don’t know about that. It doesn’t seem like it would be all bad to have a kidnapping, blackmailing, and criminal organization removed from the world.

“The UOS has been working behind the scenes to prevent and alter events that would affect Omegas negatively. Our world would not be as fair as it is today without the UOS intervening. It would be catastrophic if this code is completed, and we are forced to cease all activities to keep the world a safe place for Omegas to exist. We feel that as an Omega yourself, whether you choose to ignore what you are or not, would be the right person to get this job done.”

“That’s rather presumptive of them,” I mumbled. “Truthfully, I feel like living as a Beta is far easier, and if I could remove the need for having heats, I would. Not like I want any kids as it is.”

“Cyclone has hired Mr. Lewis to fix a problem with the code telling him it’s for advanced data protection from dark web hackers. It is imperative that Mr. Lewis remains unaware of the true nature of the code’s purpose. Your job is in two parts… one, to destroy the code as it currently is and replace it with the code we give you. Secondly, to remove all traces of the original code on all devices Mr. Lewis could have worked on it and ensure that Mr. Lewis will never be able to recreate the code again.

“This last part is up to your discretion on how you wish to make that happen. As I’ve stressed already, this code must never exist. If the loss of life is the only way to guarantee this outcome, the UOS will protect you from any and all backlash. Should you need any materials or money for bribery or goods, use the number provided for you. An additional number has been added to your phone for the driver who brought you here today. He will take you wherever you need to go outside of work. Do not use taxis or public transportation when completing work for the UOS.”

Hell yeah, for free car service in the city. Not having to wait around for a taxi or using the grimmy underground train wouldn’t be a hardship for me. That’s one rule I’m happy to follow.

“Remember, Ms. Lainey Caddel, the UOS is always watching. My advice… complete your mission, further the goal of supporting Omegas, and you will reap the benefits. The UOS is not an organization you want to double-cross.” With those ominous parting words, the laptop screen fuzzed out again and went dark.

Sitting back in the chair, I stared at the computer for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell I’d been forced into. Not only did they want me to destroy every single trace of the code but potentially the man who helped to write it, just so they didn’t get discovered. What that said to me is I needed to do a hell of a lot more investigating into Cyclone Software if they had the Syndicate that ruffled.

Done being in the creepy death warehouse that could collapse at any moment, I headed back out into the waning sunlight. The sky was turning a brilliant color of sherbert pink with swirls of orange. It reminded me why I loved living in Corzina with the mild weather and clear skies. Too bad the place held so many haunting memories—I’m not sure I could truly ever enjoy life here. Giving the sky one last glance, I got back into the car, finding another manila envelope on the seat next to me.

I opened it and peeked inside but found it was full of more paperwork. Not feeling the urge to sort through it all now, I placed it on my lap and let my head fall back against the headrest. “So if you’re going to be my driver, I feel like I should have something to call you by,” I commented once we were back on the road.