The forest appeared peaceful around the cabin. No disturbances in the natural patterns of forest debris. Yet the absence of sound spoke volumes—no chattering squirrels, woodpeckers, or distant owl calls.
The upper canopy remained still. In tactical surveillance, wildlife creates a natural perimeter alarm system. That system was broadcasting a clear warning.
I completed my circuit and returned to the cabin's rear entrance, pausing before opening the door. From that position, I could see down into the valley where the access road wound through the trees. Nothing visible yet, but the rumble originated from that direction—equipment of some kind, perhaps a vehicle larger than standard SUVs.
When I reentered, all eyes turned to me expectantly.
"Still clear."
Miles attached his modified circuit board to Alex's laptop with a tangle of wires. "Ladies and gentlemen, behold my masterpiece of electronic rebellion! It's like strapping a rocket to a tortoise—not pretty, but it should keep our digital turtle moving even when they try to slow it down."
"Perfect timing," Alex said as Miles attached the makeshift device. "We just hit ninety-three percent. The system is calculating new completion estimates based on the enhanced signal."
Miles finished connecting the final wire. "Is it helping?"
Alex nodded, relief evident in his expression. "Transfer rate is increasing. New estimate: twenty-three minutes."
Marcus leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. "So, now, we wait?"
I nodded. "We wait, and we stay prepared."
Alex set his jaw. "The moment this upload completes, Project Asphodel becomes public knowledge. No matter what happens to us afterward, we've won."
I found myself studying Alex's profile as he returned to monitoring the upload. The early morning light caught the angles of his face, highlighting the determination that had replaced scholarly reserve.
In the short time since Tahiti, Alex had transformed from a grieving academic into a principled fighter—analytical still, but tempered with steel. And I'd changed, too. From a man who saw emotion as a weakness to someone willing to fight for what I felt. The irony wasn't lost on me: it had taken a life-threatening conspiracy to teach me how to live again.
Chapter twenty
Alex
Thecabininteriordissolvedinto a blur of focused tension as I hunched over my laptop. Rain began to tap against the windows—tentative at first, then more insistent.
"Ninety-five percent." My fingers trembled against the keyboard, not from fear but from the sheer weight of what we were about to unleash.
How had I arrived here? Six months ago, I was compiling nineteenth-century correspondence for a research grant. Now, I was trying to help dismantle a government-sanctioned assassination program—the same system that had marked Marissa for death without warning or trial.
Across the room, Michael paced with contained energy, five steps one way, pivot, five steps back, a caged wolf sensing approaching hunters. Every few rotations, his eyes flicked to me, then to the windows, then back to his established route. The floorboards creaked beneath his deliberate steps, a counterpoint to the rain's growing intensity.
He paused. "Marcus, anything?"
Marcus stood by the window, methodically checking the frame's integrity for the third time since dawn. "Nothing yet, but visibility's dropping by the minute with this weather moving in."
"That can work both ways." Michael started pacing again.
Miles had claimed the worn armchair, fingers flying across his phone, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. "I'm getting scattered reports about unexplained network interruptions across three counties. Someone's casting a wide digital net."
The upload bar inched forward with excruciating sluggishness—96.3 percent. I rubbed my eyes, dry from hours of staring at the screen. Inside my chest, my heart pumped faster, boosted by fear.
"How much longer?" Michael paused his pacing to stand behind me, his hands resting on my shoulders.
"Ten minutes at this rate if the connection holds."
Miles chuckled. "If the connection holds. If they don't track our location. If the cabin doesn't get struck by lightning. That's a lot of ifs between us and changing the world."
"We've already crossed the Rubicon." I put it in context. "The data's moving. Even if they find us now, pieces of the system are already scattering across secure servers worldwide."
I rubbed my eyes again." I read Borges in grad school. Now I'm breaking open a real labyrinth with no idea what awaits."
