With a deep breath, Cora wheeled around the corner, immediately grabbing the soldier’s attention.
“Excuse me,” Cora said, closing distance quick. “I’m so lost.”
Before the soldier could bring up his weapon, Cora held out her palm of glowing orange dust. She blew a long, deliberate breath at the dust, whisking it into the space between them. From there, the dust took on a life of its own, moving like a tendril through the air and forcing itself up the soldier’s nostrils. His eyes rolled back and his body followed suit. Cora rushed forward, catching him and easing him to the ground.
Cora stood up and put her hand to the Predator at her hip. This was the worst plan, and this was the worst part. She stepped forward and opened the door. A squat, wide man with a brown buzzcut and a ugly tan suit stared back at her as she came in. He wasted no time reaching under his desk. Cora was faster, aiming the Predator on him before he got to his drawer.
“Please,” Cora said, her voice equal parts compassionate and stern.
Director Thompson froze and held her gaze for an eternity. His eyes squinted. He relaxed, sitting back in his chair and placed his hands on top of the desk.
“You’re either here under the misguided notion I can save you or you’re here to kill me in the hopes this all goes away,” he said. He laughed to himself. “Either way, that makes you a fool.”
“We’ve been compromised,” Cora replied. “The hit on my team, the false report from Richard, the sudden appearance of Children of Earth, it all goes back to Lucius.”
Director Thompson stared back at Cora. She couldn’t be sure, but he looked bored. He shrugged. “You have the gun. Say what you came to say.”
“The data we recovered was decoded at the restaurant,” Cora said. “I wasn’t there. I got held up at the hotel, and we got hit there. The men who hit the restaurant were Vulkan Group. I don’t know who hit our hotel, but I have a few guesses.”
“Your whole team is dead,” Director Thompson said. “Do you have something for me that corroborates your story?”
“Traffic-cam footage of me escaping the hotel,” Cora said. “But you already know that. What if I told you there’s a warehouse in Marzahn with two top-level Children of Earth members and six dead Vulkan soldiers?”
Director Thompson ran his fingers over the stubble on the side of his head. With a sigh, he said, “I’d say you’re eliminating anyone that can implicate you at a wonderful rate.”
Cora seethed air from her nose. “Why? Why is the NSA so intent on believing I’m a suspect. What is it you have that you’re so convinced?”
“The fitness report, Agent 71280,” he replied. “It came a week before these events, on an encrypted channel that only Richard was aware of, with his digital signature.”
“You have to know those can be faked,” Cora said. “As difficult as it may be...we’re talking about a dragon, here, Director. We have no idea what resources he has, or what he’s capable of doing.”
Thompson shook his head. “If you’re trying to convince me, you’re not doing a very good job. Give me something, agent. Anything.”
“Did you know Richard?”
“Know him? He was instrumental in my appointment here,” Thompson scoffed, insulted by the question. “My kids know him.”
Cora put a hand on her hip. “Was he the type of man that would make a mistake recruiting some idyllic college kid that could be turned by a domestic terrorist cell?”
Thompson fired out a long breath through his nose. “I’ll admit, it’s hard to believe someone as detail-oriented as Richard would drop the ball. But you’re a number, agent. Plausible deniability means we don’t know who you are, what you’ve done, and who you’ve done it to. If we got a secure communication from your superior expressing doubts, we take that very seriously.”
Stripped of her name, her history, everything but a number, that was the price of entering a black ops squad. In turn, the responsibility to her by the UNS government had vanished, too. Perhaps it was time to mend that divide.
“Open your computer,” she said. “UNS Department of Justice search.”
With a raised eyebrow, Director Thompson did as he was told. He pushed a button on the thin black box on the edge of his desk. A holographic screen projected into the air. Cora kept a close eye as his hands moved along the light-based keyboard on his desk, mindful that the wired telephone beside his computer was well within reach.
“Go to Justice Margaret Blake’s photos from her appointment celebration,” Cora said. She waited, knowing exactly what he would find. One of her favorite photos of her mother, she was grateful when she found it was missed in the erasure of Cora from all digital media wandering about on NeuralNet upon joining Richard’s team.
He found the photo without difficulty. Cora watched his eyes as he examined the image, waiting for a sign of realization. Her patience ran thin.
“Over her left shoulder,” Cora said. “The only Native girl?”
Director Thompson’s brow furrowed, then raised. Finally, he got it.
“She’s a favorite for the Supreme Court,” he said.
Cora waved a hand out to her side, a mock gesture to introduce herself. “Cora Blake, her loving daughter. I’m a patriot, Director. I followed in my mother’s footsteps. Can I please lower the damn gun now?”
Thompson responded with a reluctant nod. His eyes moved about, as if he were trying to piece things together. Cora let her service pistol rest at her hip.
“You don’t understand,” he said. “The House Oversight Committee was going nuts over this report. I had the President calling me at home. He thinks we have another Edgar Winters on our hands.”
Cora shook her head. “I think this was all orchestrated. I need to know you’re someone I can trust.”
“I can still say the same,” he replied. He threw his hands up. “I want to believe you, but your witnesses are dead, your leads are dead, and we don’t have the data. The best I can promise you right now is a head start to get out of this building.”
“What if I told you none of that was accurate?” Cora asked.
Director Thompson leaned forward in his chair. “You have my attention.”
“The Italian agent is alive,” Cora said. “I also have the rig and Arcadia of the Children of Earth hacker, and I have the data...decrypted.”
The director shook his head, his lips stumbling over words as he tried to piece a sentence together. “Why...why didn’t you lead with that? If you have all of that, it fully exonerates you.”
“Unless I’m turning it over to someone who works for Lucius,” Cora replied.
Director Thompson stood from his chair, placing the knuckles of both hands against the desk to prop him up. Cora struck a nerve. He looked mad.
“I’ve bled my whole life for the UNS,” he replied. “I was there when it was still the United States. I fought through five tours in the Civil War. I’ve never taken a bribe, never looked the other way. Richard didn’t tell you nearly enough about me.”
“Fine,” Cora said with a huff. She glanced at the time on her wrist computer. There wasn’t much left. “We trade questions, right now.”
“Go.”
“What is Project Ashes?” Cora asked.
“A sorting system that is tracking the movement of museum pieces around the world,” Thompson replied. “Did you find Phoenix?”
“Phoenix?”
Director Thompson held out each of his hands, motioning one to the other. “Ashes, Phoenix. Richard knew what Project Ashes was before the meet. We needed to know what Project Phoenix was...the place this data was going.”
Cora bit her lip. A phoenix from the ashes. That bastard Lucius even said as much in their meeting. He was testing her, to see how much she knew. She could kick herself for missing it.
“Christ, Richard really had you guys in the dark,” Thompson said, shaking his head. “It makes sense, but it’s also the reason you’re running around Berlin trying to find answers. You have to know
you have a target on your back.”
Cora peeked out the door, down the hall in both directions. “It’s been a fun night. Can you get my picture removed from the Polizei?”
Director Thompson nodded. “Of course. I’m assuming you didn’t take the risk of having the data on you?”
“No.”
“Where are we going to do this, Agent Blake?” Thompson asked. “I’ll get you home. You have my word.”
“The airport,” Cora said. “I need passage for four back to the UNS. One of them is going to need a Presidential pardon.”
“Oh, is that all?” Thompson said, crossing his arms.
“No, it isn’t,” Cora replied. “I’m going to hand you this entire operation on a silver platter. Then you’re going to hit whatever location turns out to be Project Phoenix?”
“Correct,” Thompson nodded. “The President wants a strong message sent to Lucius that his overtures and reach are not welcome in the UNS.”
That part of the plan didn’t make sense to Giovanna in their final briefing. Richard didn’t seem to like it, either. Regardless of whether it was the right or wrong move politically, Lucius had been wise to most every step taken until Cora vanished with the data.
“Echo-1, copy,” Gideon said into her ear.
Cora tapped her comm. “Better be good.”
“I need you to listen to me very carefully,” Gideon replied, his tone grave. “Ask the Director to check Node 4176. He’ll know what you’re asking.”
Cora raised an eyebrow and fixed on the Director. She tightened the grip on her Predator. “I need you to check Node 4176.”
“How do you know about that?” Thompson asked, sitting back down. He began typing.
“Control, what is he looking for?” Cora asked.
“Is he looking at it?” Gideon replied, a slight panic in his voice.
Director Thompson finished typing and leaned back. He stared at his screen, a basic black window with a list of text messages.
“Yeah, he has it up,” Cora said.
“Tell him to type in ‘terminal’, and let me know what happens. He won’t see anything he types,” Gideon replied.
Cora instructed the Director to do as Gideon said. With the last letter typed, a new window popped up over the first one.
“Okay, now what?” Cora asked.
“Have him type ‘stream’ and hit enter,” Gideon said. “I need to know if there are more than two hosts.”
Again, the Director did as Cora asked. She walked around the desk and stood behind Thompson, looking at the screen with him. White text poured down the screen, too fast for Cora to keep track. She tapped her comm.
“Control, there has to be a dozen at least,” she said, trying to make sense of the screen. The first series of numbers and addresses changed on every line, but the ending address remained the same, a long number series. “The source listed is different, but it’s all going to the same place.”
“Is the address one-seventy, Echo Charlie, forty-four twenty?”
“Yeah, how did you know that?” Cora asked.
“Echo-1, you have to get out of there, now,” Gideon said, his tone grave. “I found something in the data that was separate of the museum collections. Node 4176. It was set up as a private communication line between Toller and his NSA contacts, but it’s transmitting data from the NSA to Lucius’ Project Ashes servers here in Berlin. They’ve been breached. He knows everything, Cora.”
“Oh, God,” Cora said. Pieces of the puzzle started moving into place in her mind. Her heart leaped into her throat. She stared at the Director, wide-eyed as she headed for the door.
“What? What is it?” Thompson stood up again.
“That node was used to breach our operations here,” Cora replied, stunned. “Lucius knows everything. Toller wasn’t our informant. He wasn’t with Children of Earth. It was Lucius all along.”
Thompson tried to reconcile the information. He shook his head, trying to follow Cora into the hall as she backed away in a stupor.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “It doesn’t even make sense. Toller put us onto this from the beginning. Why would Lucius put us on his scent?”
“War,” Cora said, backing up. She stumbled, almost tripping over the sleeping guard on the floor of the hall. “He’s orchestrating a war. A new arms race with magical weapons. I can’t stay here, I have to go. He might know I’m here.”
“We can protect you,” Thompson said. “Get you out of here. We just need the data.”
“The data?” Cora yelled. “To do what with it? He knows you’re coming! You’re going to protect me? You didn’t even know you had a breach!”
Cora ran for the stairwell, Thompson pleaded with her and gave chase. She was faster, and had no interest in anything he had to say. Lucius had made her nothing more than a rat running in a maze he designed. Dragon or no, he was going to pay for this. No matter how he could spin it, Richard died because of him. Drake. Even his own right hand died in that restaurant.
She tapped her earpiece and pushed through the door for the roof. The night air felt crisp and fresh, not the recycled garbage pumping through the embassy. It felt good to catch her breath.
“Control, I’m on the move,” she said. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “Check something for me in the searchable database. Look for Project Phoenix.”
A pause. Cora chased down to the end of the roof. To her right was Ebertstraße, still busy with foot traffic and cars under well-lit streetlamps. She needed to get down to there for the rendezvous, but it looked like it was going to be the long way.
“Echo-1, this just opened up the keys to the castle,” Gideon said. “Project Phoenix is the fully curated database of what Lucius is looking for. The data looks like it’s being split.”
“Split? Split how?” Cora asked, jogging for the edge of the building. It was still dark below. Somewhere in the distance, drones were still projecting holograms of the activist reciting his manifesto.
“Still looking into it,” Gideon replied.
“Fox is at rendezvous,” Johnny came in over the comm.
“Copy,” Giovanna replied in a Russian accent. “Echo-2 inbound, ETA one minute. I told you I’d beat you there, patatina.”
Cora laughed in spite of herself. “Guess I owe you a drink, Echo-2.”
“None of that Confederacy fire piss you love so much,” Giovanna teased.
“Echo-1, I think I’ve found it,” Gideon said. “Project Phoenix...it’s not one location, it’s two. What they’re for, though...oh, no.”
A sharp, piercing noise shot through Cora’s comm like a knife in her ear. She dug out her earpiece and examined it. She didn’t know enough about the device to know what she was looking for. The sound stopped as it rested in her palm. She put it back in her ear and tapped the comm button.
“Control? Control, this is Echo-1, do you read?”
No response. Panicked, she ratcheted her jog to a run and charged the end of the roof. She scrambled to find a path to the street, unnoticed by Polizei and citizens. The phone in her wrist computer rang into her ear. Without a thought, she tapped the button.
“Control? Are you alright?”
“You crossed me, Cora,” Lucius’ deep, accented voice said. “I warned you, I was your only ally.”
Adrenaline and magic surged through Cora like never before. Be it fear or rage, the sound of Lucius’ voice empowered her. It didn’t matter who was watching below. The only people she had left were in danger. She stepped off the roof. There was no visualizing a majestic creature to draw inspiration from. She knew what she wanted to do and demanded the magic in her to do it.
She fell to the ground, constantly increasing speed. The sidewalk below flew at her and people on the street took notice and scrambled out of the way. Mere feet from the ground, a pillow of air pushed against her in the opposite direction. It wasn’t enough to stop her descent, only slow her into a hover just inches from the ground. The wind holding Cora up was at
her command, bound to her whim. There was no time to figure out what she had done. She opened her palm, releasing the tether of magic. Her boots hit the concrete and she took off running down Ebertstraße.
“You won’t make it in time, Cora,’ Lucius taunted. “Recall our conversations.”
Cora tried to ignore his voice in her ear. It wasn’t far to go. Gideon was parked beside the memorial, a wide open area and historical landmark. There was no way Lucius would do anything in such a public place. The damage to his image in the press wouldn’t only affect him, but his brothers and sisters around the world.
She reached the end of the block and continued on to the next, reaching the memorial. Looking down the row of parked cars, she spotted Gideon’s white van five cars down. With her next step, flames burst out from every window. The explosion that followed blew the van a foot off the ground before crashing it back to the street.
Cora grabbed her chest. Her heart stopped a beat. She screamed until her voice couldn’t sustain it anymore. Tears filled her eyes. Johnny. Giovanna. Gideon. Her legs kept pumping, but by the time she reached the van, the wreck was fully consumed in flames. Nothing and no one could have survived. She screamed at the top of her lungs, dropping to her knees.
Lucius said nothing, waiting for her reaction. She imagined him savoring her sorrow, sitting in his office, lording over the city.
“Why?” Cora asked, breathless.
Lucius retorted with a bitter laugh. “Why?”
She got her voice under control, ragged and filled with gravel. “Why them and not me? You could have waited. You knew I was coming, and where I’d be.”
“We’re not done, you and I,” he replied. “You dared to cross me. You will suffer instead.”
Cora shook her head, letting a tear course down her cheek. She looked at the ground. Beside the van’s flames, her katana rested on the street. The sheath blackened from the soot around it, the weapon gave off a soft, white glow like nothing she had seen before. She knew the elven master that had crafted it used magic in the forging process, but she had no idea the weapon itself was magical. Her brow furrowed. She fantasized about impaling Lucius’ head upon the blade.
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