Kathleen frowned. “It wouldn’t destroy them overnight. The plants still have limits. They need water to survive. Right now, they only thrive in aquatic systems. I haven’t figured out how to transition them to soil yet. Their energy storage cells collapse in dry environments. If I can solve that, they might grow inland, form self-sustaining grids in rural areas. Though it’s still years off. I’m not finished.”
“That doesn’t matter to them,” Marise said quietly. “The potential is enough. They don’t care whether it works now or in ten years. They want it buried before anyone hears about it.”
Kathleen stared at the ceiling for a long moment. “So, what do we do?”
Marise’s hand slid into hers. “We make sure it doesn’t disappear. You publish. A peer-reviewed journal. Something that can’t be pulled down or erased. Once it’s out, they can’t kill it. Not without the world noticing.”
Kathleen nodded. “I must go back soon anyway. Ted is fine, but he won’t know the next steps.”
“I’ll go with you,” Marise said. “I’ll get you in. I’ll keep you safe. But once you have what you need, you publish. Full transparency. It’s the only shield you’ve got.”
“And you?”
Marise’s expression didn’t flicker. “I’ll find who sent the men after you. I’ll shut them down.”
Kathleen turned to look at her fully. “You’re not just saying that, are you?”
“No,” Marise said. “I won’t lie to you anymore.”
Kathleen’s throat tightened. “Then let’s do it. Let’s finish this. I have everything I need on my computer to write the paper. It’s mostly written anyhow. I’ve documented it as I went.”
“How long will you need to finish it.”
“Two days.”
“Right. Then I’ll get to and find who ordered the hit.” She frowned. “Have we any internet service out here.”
Kathleen nodded. “Yes, there’s satellite coverage. A little slower than you’re used to, but it works.”
“Great. I’ll make breakfast and then we’ll get to work.”
Marise hummed to herself as she went to the bathroom.
They were no longer running. They were moving forward with a plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Marise popped two packets of instant porridge into a saucepan and turned on the gas.
The fire had died to glowing coals, leaving a lingering warmth in the cabin. Outside, mist clung to the pines, grey-white and still. It was peaceful, an unfamiliar peace that she’d rarely experienced.
They sat quietly while they ate, Kathleen shyly looking up at her now and then.
After they finished breakfast, Kathleen set up her laptop at the kitchen table, flicking her tongue across her bottom lip as she typed her manuscript. Marise smiled as she watched her, then picked up her laptop and sat cross legged at the small wooden table near the hearth.
She wiped a smudge from her laptop screen and booted into an operating system that didn’t exist in any public registry.
It was time to find out who had hired her, and she was going to need help on this one.
Marise typed faster, diving through her layers of encryption. She had a contact, an old handler from Prague, username Lapwing. She’d never met him, didn’t know his real name or heard his voice, but she knew he was male. Three yearsago, during a contract in Luxembourg, Marise needed to trace a shipment of biometric devices that had been rerouted through six dummy firms. A mutual contact gave her Lapwing’s encrypted key. They worked together remotely for forty-eight hours straight and cracked the ownership trail. Lapwing was paid in crypto and refused to say more than, “You’re cleaner than most. If you ever need me again, get in touch.”
Marise tapped a string of characters into her shell window, then opened into the site. The interface was barebones: no branding, no timestamps. Only a blinking cursor and a space for a message.
She opened the encrypted chat and typed:Lark here. Need eyes on a contract reroute. Same channel. High priority. Someone shifted the game mid-play. Need eyes. Are you ghosting today?
It took three minutes before a reply appeared.
Lapwing:Still perched. How dirty is the nest?
