Page 159 of What Remains

“This is TOC, good copy.” Nothing better than hearing Gwen’s voice in my ear.

With the lights out, green floods my vision. My world exists in phosphor glow and drifting dust as I drop the first relay node just inside the threshold.

My ATAK display populates. Blue icons. All fifteen of us are present for Gwen to see on screen, and to also create a map of our movements.

“This is TOC. Mesh chain confirmed. I have you.”

“Roger,” I answer as we flow in farther.

We head down a concrete stairwell, and cold air rises from below.

We move slow and controlled.

At the first landing⁠—

Click.

Motion sensor. A red light springs to life.

“Contact front,” Carter hisses.

The first wave hits fast as six tangos pour from a side corridor. Sounds fold inward—gunfire reduced to dull cracks through my ear protection.

Continued suppressed shots are fired as alarm klaxons erupt through the bunker. The element of surprise is now over, so we push forward.

Halfway down the main corridor, there’s a flash from the far right.

“Frag!” Jack warns.

We pivot, but it’s already airborne. The blast slams through the hallway, a pressure wave punching the air from my lungs.

My ATAK flickers, and the blue icons blink out.

“Alpha, respond!” Gwen’s voice cuts sharp through comms. “I lost⁠—”

“We’re here,” I grunt through the debris. “Alpha is still a go.” The icons reappear, and the mesh re-locks. Julian’s signal is also back and pulsing on my ATAK.

A soft, “Oh thank God,” slides through the comms and into my ear. “I’ve got you again.”

“Primary corridor, keep moving,” Carter orders.

“Negative!” Gwen yells out. “Abort. Don’t go that way.”

“It’s our fastest way,” Gideon says from Foxtrot’s position.

“Not any—anymore,” she snaps out, static clipping her words. “C—Camila . . . she⁠—”

The transmission distorts.

“. . . called.”

We all know exactly what that means.

Carter pivots slightly, pressing a hand against his headset. “Say again.”

“It’s a trap,” she warns.

“Alternate route?” Carter asks.