Page 10 of Omega on Fire
I nod, not trusting myself to speak more than necessary. The nickname—my callsign—feels right for this mission.I'm always a soldier first. We allare.Civilian life doesn’t suit us anymore, hence our need to risk our lives on the regular in aid of others. I’m more comfortable beingDeaconthan my God-given name.Moses falls away the minute my boots touch the ground.And God help anyone who stands between me and my target.
A few seats in front of me, Josiah and Malcolm are hunched over their laptops like they’re praying to them. The blue light reflects off their faces, making them look almost ghostly.Joker hasn't cracked a single joke in hours.That tells me exactly how invested he is. The pounding of his fingers over the keys is almost musical. The speed in which he commands his tech still amazes me, even after all these years.
"J," I say quietly, moving to sit beside him. "Talk to me."
Josiah doesn’t look up, but his lips press together in that way they do when he’s processing multiple thoughts at once. "This compound is in the middle of nowhere. The closest town is about forty klicks out." He tilts the screen so I can see the satellite imagery. "From what Malcolm and I can gather, they’ve got a good setup. Solar panels for power, their own well system. They could stay off-grid indefinitely."
"Security?" I ask, leaning closer.
"That’s what’s interesting," Malcolm chimes in without looking up. "For a place supposedly holding captives, their digital footprint is minimal. Basic cameras, nothing networked in any sophisticated way."
Josiah nods. "Which means either they’re incredibly stupid?—”
"Or it’s a trap," I finish for him. The thoughtmakes me sick. If we’ve gotten this wrong?—
"Or," Beckett interrupts from across the aisle, his voice carrying the authority of someone used to command, "they’re so confident in their remote location that they don’t think they need much security."
Quincy snorts. "Arrogance. Makes our job easier."
I’m not so sure.Something doesn’t feel right.The compound is too isolated, too perfectly hidden. My instincts are screaming at me, and I learned long ago to trust them.
"What if they’re not there?" I ask the question that’s been haunting me since we boarded. "What if this is just a dead end?" The cabin falls silent. We’ve all been thinking it, but no one wanted to give voice to our fears.
Beaux, who's been quiet until now, leans forwardin his seat. "Then we keep looking. We don’t stop until we find her."
I nod, grateful for his certainty when mine is wavering. I close my eyes briefly, thinking of my family.Of my sisters. Of how I failed them.I couldn't save them then.I was too young, too powerless. I trusted in the bullshit they fed me about our place in the world.But I'm not that scared kid anymore.No one is making me bow to tradition. And no matter what we’re walking into, I won’t fail this time.
"I've got building schematics," Josiah announces suddenly, his voice tight with excitement. "Malcolm, you seeing this?"
"Holy shit," Malcolm whispers. "How did you?"
"Don't ask, don't tell," Josiah replies, a ghost of his usual humor flickering across his face. "Look at the sublevel designs."
I lean over his shoulder, studying the blueprint on his screen. The compound has three underground levels that didn't show up on the satellite imagery. My stomach clenches.
"They built a prison," I say, tracing the outline of the rectangular building structures with even smaller cell-like rooms inside. "Right under the desert."
Teagan moves to join us, his expression hardeningas he takes in what we're seeing. "How many potential hostages are we looking at?"
Josiah shakes his head. "No way to tell for sure but based on the design, dozens. Maybe more."
I think of all those people—all those Omegas—trapped underground, hidden from the world. I think of my mother, of my sisters. I think of every Omega who's ever been told their only value is in their submission.
"I've got something," Malcolm's voice cuts through the tension, his tone sharp enough to make us all turn. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—" he's muttering, fingers flying across his keyboard.
"What is it?" Teagan demands, already moving to the other side of the table to stand behind Malcolm.
Malcolm doesn't look up. "I've been monitoring certain dark web channels, places where they sell people." His voice tightens. "Specifically, Omega trafficking auction announcements."
My blood runs cold. I stand, moving closer as the rest of the team gathers around.
"There's chatter about a 'premium offering' dropping today. They're hyping it up as some kind of rare specimen." The disgust in Malcolm's voice mirrors what I'm feeling. "I should warn you all, there mightbe images or videos of the ‘product’.” He practically spits the last word.
"Show us," Beaux demands, his voice deadly quiet.
Malcolm hesitates. "Are you sure? This could be?—"
"Now," Teagan cuts in, authority radiating from him.
