A knock on the door had Jamie twisting to look over his shoulder, and after being told to come in, Jay entered, his expression grim.
One glance at his black eyes and clenched jaw, and Becca knew.
Life was about to get a whole lot shittier before it got better.
“Maya made contact,” he said, his steely gaze holding hers. “It’s time.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Encrypt. Scramble. Burn.
Jay watched the command strings scroll across the screen, lines of code dissolving as fast as he typed them. Each keystroke a severed artery, he left no logs, no echoes, no digital blood trail. For their own protection, the path to Maya had to be clean. Surgical. Untraceable.
“One minute to handshake,” he said, voice clipped, fingers still flying as he started the countdown. Beside him, Becca shifted. Her knee bounced in an erratic rhythm, and he didn’t need to glance her way to see the tension pouring off her. He could feel it all the way down to his bones.
“She’ll scan the packet ten ways before she even answers,” she muttered, low and tight.
“She can try.” He reached out, smoothed his palm down her thigh, and steadied her leg. A silent tether. A reminder they were still here—together—and not trapped in the past horrors they’d survived.
“The signal’s scrubbed through three dead relays and a ghost node in Bolivia,” he added. “We won’t get a location on her—but she won’t get one on us either.”
“You sure?” Adam asked.
“Positive,” he replied. “We’re secure.”
“Alright. Let’s do this.” His sharp nod the green light to proceed, Adam moved off camera to stand with the rest of the team, leaving Jay and Becca alone on screen.
Jay’s chest tightened, and mind spinning faster than his CPU, he kept an eye on the clock as the seconds ticked down. They had one shot to convince Maya to meet in person, and they had to play it right, because the bitch wasn’t stupid. Evil, yes. Paranoid, absolutely. But stupid? No.
She thrived on manipulation, on control, on watching people squirm while she pulled the strings from behind her electronic curtain. Yeah, she liked playing games. And this—this was the opening move in a winner-takes-all chess match.
And if they failed…
The screen blinked, and the message they’d been waiting for came up.
Connection secure. Incoming request: M. BLK.
Jay exhaled, slow and deliberate. “You ready?” He glanced at Becca, searching her face. She met his eyes, and the steadfast resolve he saw damn near broke him, because she shouldn’t have to be this strong. Shouldn’t have to face the woman who’d tried and failed to destroy her.
Her hesitation slight, she nodded, the motion small but certain. “Ready.”
Fuck it. Maya could wait.
He leaned in and kissed his girl. A soft press of his lips to hers. Just long enough to give her something solid to hold on to. “You got this,” he whispered.
“You too,” she whispered back, placing her trembling hand over his beneath the boardroom table.
He flipped his palm to curl his fingers around hers, grounding them both. All around them, the members of the JTT waited, their silence a testament to the gravity of the situation. He looked back at the screen, which glowed bright in the dim light. Then with a last squeeze of reassurance for them both, he released Becca’s fingers, typed in the passcode, and hit Enter.
The window opened, and the live feed started.
A brief flicker before the camera focused.
And there she was.
Maya.
Her expression the same. Smug. Composed. Arrogant.
