Chapter 8 - Whispers in the Dark
Liya’s breath hitched in her throat. The voice was low, gravelly, and entirely unfamiliar.
"Who's there?" she whispered back, straining against the ropes as much as the timber would allow.
"A friend of Miller's replacement," the voice hissed from the shadows near the floorboards. A small metal clink echoed softly, followed by the metallic scraping of a blade against wood. "Or rather, someone who realized a sinking ship is no place to retire."
A hand reached out from the gloom—rough, calloused, and smelling faintly of motor oil and gunsmoke. A small pocketknife flickered open, catching the meager sliver of moonlight.
"Stop moving," the unseen ally warned, pressing close.
Liya felt the cold edge of the blade brush against her wrists. The nylon ropes strained, then gave way with a sharp, synthetic snap as the knife sliced cleanly through them. A second later, the painful zip-ties fell away from her skin, leaving her hands free.
She rubbed her wrists frantically, wincing as blood circulation rushed back into her fingers.
"Who sent you?" Liya whispered, crouching low against the base of the pillar.
"Let's just say Adrian has more than one loyalist left," the man whispered back, easing himself out of the shadows. It was a younger guy she hadn't seen at the estate—one of the junior security contractors who had been stationed by the kitchen entrance before the breach. "Miller thought he cleaned house, but he missed the night shift rotation."
"What’s the plan?" Liya asked, her eyes adjusting enough to make out the young man’s tactical vest and determined expression. "Elena thinks Adrian is signing over the board right now. If we don't stop him—"
"We aren't stopping him from signing," the guard interrupted grimly. "We’re buying him time. The downtown office is a fortress, but the secure server room where the electronic filings happen has a hardline override. If Adrian signs, it routes through a trapdoor protocol he wrote three years ago. The moment the board approves it, it locks the entire syndicate treasury and triggers a federal audit."
Liya stared at him, stunned. "He’s setting a trap?"
"He’s blowing up the board from the inside," the guard corrected, pulling a suppressed pistol from his holster and checking the magazine. "And your job is to make sure Elena doesn't execute him before the clock strikes midnight. Which means we need to get out of this lodge right now."
"There are two armed guards in the front room," Liya warned.
"I know," the guard smiled grimly, pulling a small, cylindrical metal canister from his belt. "Good thing I brought a housewarming present."
Before Liya could blink, the guard pulled the pin on a flash-bang grenade, kicked open the inner connecting door, and tossed it into the front room.
A blinding, magnesium-white flash tore through the darkness, followed immediately by a concussive blast that rattled the entire cabin off its foundation. Shouts of disorientation and heavy thuds echoed as the guards went down.
May you like
"Move! Move! Move!" the guard yelled, grabbing Liya’s arm and hauling her toward the rear window, kicking it out with his boot just as heavy footsteps rushed toward them from the front.
---
