“Ah, yes,” Thomas’ voice came into my ear. “Is there a terminal in the booth?”
My eyes scanned the console, stopping at the built-in monitor display with green lighting all around it.
Yes.
“Good. Go to it and type in what I tell you. I can’t crack this beast if I don’t know what it is.”
I immediately headed over to the attached keyboard.
I’m ready.
In a rapid-fire stream, Thomas began listing out a series of letters, characters, and numbers—too many to count or remember—but I dutifully punched them in while Ms. Dale and Amber changed into the stolen guards’ uniforms behind me, Jeff and Cad redistributing the rest of our hijacked weapons.
“You’re insane.”
The announcement was soft, but carried a heavy load of tension, and I hit enter before turning to face Cruz, who was watching me. His brows were drawn tightly together, a zip tie cinched tightly around his wrists, securing him to one of the pipes running from the walls. The two female wardens sat next to him, looking somewhat less belligerent. I regarded him coolly, shrugged once more, then gave him a little wave before turning back to the computer.
Is that all? I transmitted to Thomas.
There was a long pause. “Huh. That’s interesting.”
What’s interesting? Thomas?
“Oh. Um. Well, it’s not really pertinent, but I think I may have found Tim.”
My heart skipped a beat as I interpreted his words.
Not pertin—? I choked. Wait, really? Where? Is he alive?
“I think he’s alive, and yes, really. But, Viggo, the ‘where’ isn’t relevant to us.”
Ms. Dale stepped over, tugging the stiff edges of her uniform down, and reached out to place a hand on my forearm. She and the rest of the team now wore their earbuds, so they could hear the exchange. But since they needed their voices for this mission, I was the only one with a subvocalizer.
“Unless he’s in danger, then…” She hesitated, her gaze drifting suspiciously to our prisoners, and then continued. “Our tech guy is right—it is not a priority,” she said softly, meeting my gaze with an unwavering one of her own. I applauded her commitment to not using anyone’s real names, realizing we had overlooked giving Thomas an alias.
I nodded, swallowing through the swoop of hope tugging at my heart. This wasn’t the time or the place.
Thomas—is he in danger?
“No, not that I can tell.”
Can you… Would you be able to transmit the information back to our base? Not to Violet, though, if you can help it—she might go off half-cocked to find him.
“I can do that. Should I attach a message?”
Whatever you think is best, I replied, after struggling and failing to think of something to say that wouldn’t eventually make Violet angry I was covering this up. Ms. Dale gave me a nod, then hurriedly moved through the door and out into the hallway, Amber hot on her heels. The two of them, now dressed as the Matrian wardens who guarded the checkpoints, down to the electronic key fob and the identification papers—not that those would hold up under scrutiny—were going to do their job and guard the door.
This was probably my least favorite part of the plan. Through the door to the room, Ms. Dale and Amber had no way of communicating problems to us beyond a simple tapping system we’d worked out. The two of them were on their own now, and while they were both more than capable, I knew anything could happen out there.
Thomas, wait one second. Ms. Dale, test the signal for me, I communicated to her. After a moment, I heard a very small tap, followed by a long scratch, signaling that she had heard me. I read you clearly, I informed her. Go ahead, Thomas.
“Okay. By the way, I now have some control over your console, although it’s just about understanding the coding. I can guide you from here, but I need a test of buttons, left to right, top to bottom.”
I waved Cad over and pointed at the console, and he nodded, approaching it closely. Cad is waiting for your instructions, I transmitted. Jeff will be communicating with you while I deal with the hostages.
“Okay.”
I ripped off my subvocalizer and handed it over to Jeff, who fastened it around his neck. His eyes went wide as it activated, and I heard his voice coming over the speakers as I saw him mouth, Is this normal?
It hadn’t occurred to me that Jeff hadn’t worn one before, but I nodded at his discomfort and gave him a thumbs-up, certain he could handle the adjustment. Moving over to the hostages, I noted that Ms. Dale and Amber had been kind enough to dress the women in their Patrian clothes, although the fit was poor at best. The three of them sat with their backs to the wall, their hands all secured by zip ties, their feet tied with their own shoelaces.