Chapter 30

30

Dead. All three of the workers he and Paige had herded out of that lab were dead. So was their lead on the virus drive.

Cody hunched over the sleek desktop in the embassy's safe room, his fingers assaulting the keyboard in a frantic dance. Each keystroke echoed his desperate attempt to outpace the encroaching dread. The acrid taste of failure coated his tongue, bitter and relentless.

His jaw clenched as he fought against the rising tide of frustration. "No way to get into the other victims' residences now," he growled over comms, his words barely rising above the quiet hum of the embassy's state-of-the-art equipment. The harsh glow of multiple monitors cast eerie shadows across his face, deepening the lines of worry etched there. "The Consortium will make sure the authorities are on scene any second."

Paige and Graham exchanged worried glances behind him, the tension palpable in the confined space. Cody's eyes darted across the screens, searching for any glimmer of hope among the sea of dead ends. But with each fruitless search, the reality of their situation sank in deeper, like a stone dropping into still water, sending ripples of unease through the team.

The embassy's reinforced walls, once a comfort, now felt suffocating. The knowledge that they were running out of time and options pressed down on them, as oppressive as the recycled air in their secure hideout.

Bridger's voice crackled over the comlink, tension evident in every syllable. "Jason had some thoughts about the virus drive. Everyone regroup at the Embassy."

Paige's voice followed, cool and professional. "Mason, Tai, divert down 16th Street. Construction on your route."

"Thanks, Paige," Tai responded, his usual calm tinged with relief.

Cody's eyes darted to the security feed, a chill running down his spine. "Guys, we've got company." He pointed to the screen, where a group of "protesters" was gathering outside the embassy. Something about their movements set off alarm bells in his head.

Graham leaned in, his breath warm on Cody's neck as he squinted at the video feed. "That can't be right." He jabbed a finger at two of the leaders. "They're wearing tactical boots. And Kevlar vests underneath those hoodies."

Cody's heart rate kicked up a notch as Graham's words confirmed his suspicions.

"We've been spotted," Graham announced over the comms, his voice tight.

Bridger's response was immediate and unequivocal. "Everybody scatter. Now. Meet up at Omega January site ASAP. Stay safe. North out."

As the comlink fell silent, Cody locked eyes with Paige. The mixture of determination and fear he saw mirrored his own emotions. They had mere minutes to evacuate, and he'd be damned if he let anything happen to her. With a quick nod, they sprang into action, the room suddenly alive with the sounds of rapid typing and equipment being hastily packed.

The game had changed, and Cody knew the stakes had just gotten a lot higher. As he wiped the computers, his mind raced with possibilities. Whoever these people were, they'd seriously underestimated what Cody Lassiter was capable of when cornered.

Cody felt Graham's gaze boring into him, assessing every twitch and micro-expression.

"Can you keep Paige safe?" Graham's voice was low, deadly serious.

Cody met his eyes unflinchingly. "Whatever it takes." The unspoken addition—‘Even my life'—hung heavily in the air between them.

Graham held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Exactly." The sound of a zipper cut through the silence as Graham reached for his go bag, retrieving an AR-something rifle. The metallic click as he checked the chamber sent a shiver down Cody's spine. "Get her to the safe site. She doesn't make it, I hunt you down. We clear?"

"Crystal." Cody's voice was steady, despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He'd feel the same in Graham's shoes.

Turning to Paige, Cody's tone softened slightly. "Pick one computer, bring the blank disk, and wipe any other electronics." He hefted their two go bags, the weight reassuring in his hands.

As they slipped out the back way, the cool night air hit Cody's face like a slap. Mason's friend, Koit, materialized from the shadows, pressing a set of keys into Cody's palm. " Edu ! Good luck," he murmured, before melting back into the darkness.

They'd need it. And prayers. Lots of prayers.

He eyed their getaway vehicle—a beat-up little car that looked like it had seen better days sometime in the last century. He stifled a groan. So much for a dramatic escape.

As he ushered Paige towards the car, the reality of their situation hit him full force. They were on their own now, with who-knows-what kind of danger breathing down their necks.

"Ready?" he whispered.

The determined glint in Paige's eyes as she nodded sent a surge of something that felt suspiciously like pride through his chest. Whatever came next, they'd face it together.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, the rhythmic tapping a counterpoint to the rumble of the ancient engine. "So, where is this Omega site?"

Paige shook her head, her hair catching the dim streetlights as they cruised through the city. "Can't tell you where it is. Just in case."

He arched an eyebrow. "Just in case what? I suddenly decide to betray you to the evil megalomaniacs chasing us?"

"You never know," she quipped, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's four hours away by car, that's all I can say for now. Head for two ninety-five north."

He let out a low whistle. "Four hours travel time? What are we going to accomplish by simply regrouping?" He could feel an idea forming, crackling with potential. "What about those coordinates your father left? The clue?"

Paige's eyes widened, surprise and intrigue flashing across her face. "What about them?"

"Your father," Cody began, choosing his words carefully, "stopped working for the Consortium a couple years before he died. But obviously not before that secret lab got built under the Smithsonian." The memory of that underground facility sent a chill down his spine. "He knew things, Paige. Way more than he ever told me."

Silence filled the car for a moment, broken only by the wheezing of the air conditioning. He could almost hear the gears turning in Paige's head as she processed his words.

"Your team could arrange for a plane and a pilot," he pointed out. "We'll be onsite in less time than it'll take them to drive to the Omega site. What do you say? Let's do something crazy."

Finally, she nodded, decision made. "You're right. Dad went to a lot of trouble to leave me that clue. Let's do it."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

She picked up her phone. It took less than five minutes to arrange for a private jet out of a local airstrip. He liked the way these Redemption Creek people operated.

He eased the sports car past yet another black SUV, following Paige's directions to the airfield. Whatever Atticus had left for them, it had to be big. And in their line of work "big" usually meant "dangerous."

The early evening sky illuminated Paige's profile. Despite the tension of the situation, he couldn't help but feel a spark of ... something he couldn't name. Admiration? Attraction? He pushed the thought away. Now wasn't the time for that particular complication.

He gripped the wheel tighter. Whatever lay ahead, one thing was certain—they were venturing into uncharted territory, and there was no turning back.