I smiled, appreciating the irony. “What’s the protocol if they lose contact with high command?”
“They are to stand down operations and wait. After four hours, they are to break down operations and return home to assess what has happened.”
Logan chuckled, and we all looked at him. “Bless those Matrian peace-makers,” he said with a grin.
“Wait,” said Owen, turning around and away from the terminal. “Wouldn’t Elena change that?”
“She might have. But it’s a chance we have to be willing to take,” Amber replied. “It’s really our only option, short of finding their location and going there to take them out.”
“So wait—what do we do?” asked Logan, looking around. “I mean, can we stop them from getting orders?”
“We can,” Owen replied. “We just need to take out their transmitting antennae on the roof. If we do that, we can take out all communications through the palace’s official channels… and then there’s a good chance they’ll stop the attack with the boys.”
That was a solid plan, and I took over the rest, signaling my approval.
“Amber, you and Logan stay here and keep them off our backs for as long as possible. Give us a couple blocks of your semtex and extra detonators, and then block yourselves in. Owen and I will go blow their communications array sky high.”
Amber arched an eyebrow and exhaled a sharp breath.
“That’s no small order,” she said. “But we got your back. Good luck.”
“You too,” I said, chambering a round into my gun and moving toward the hall. “You too.”
39
Violet
The hall before me was filled with doors and hallways leading to who knew what. I saw a sign that said “Servants’ Kitchen” heading left down a hall, and pointed to it.
Here? I asked Morgan, still entertaining the secret hope that Ms. Dale would answer, having miraculously survived all the guards, patched herself up, and found our new channel… It would be just like her, wouldn’t it?
It’s about right, Morgan replied, and I nodded, pushing away the stab of disappointment when hers was the only voice coming through the comms, focusing instead on checking both sides. I ducked back around the corner into the hallway we’d just left, motioning Morgan back as a regal voice became audible, instantly recognizable. My back to the wall, I used a trick Viggo had taught me and held a mirror down low, peering down the corridor and seeing, in the tiny glass, what was clearly Queen Elena’s figure, flanked by several guards. From the quick glance I got, they were striding toward us, Elena giving orders.
I looked over at Morgan and nodded toward the door a few feet behind her, and she nodded back and moved over to it, keeping her steps quiet. I followed in her footsteps as we slipped through the door into what appeared to be a closet. I held the door slightly cracked and tried to calm my heartbeat enough to hear what the queen was saying in the corridor beyond.
“—tine has been broken,” she said imperiously. “They’re getting into the palace. Where are the bloody torch units I ordered? They should be here by now. It might already be too late. Sierra and I may need to evacuate while this problem is resolved.”
“My queen,” another voice replied, growing louder as the group passed by. “I do not want you chased from your home! We will put an end to this, you have my…”
I couldn’t make out the rest, the words lost to the chaos of the entourage stomping by behind her. My eyes watched through the crack as sixteen wardens walked past, and I looked over at Morgan.
We have to follow her, I said. And she has a lot of guards with her.
Morgan gave a tired chuckle, shaking her head. Well, good news—Elena is definitely afraid of you. But we can’t take on that many.
We don’t have to. All we really need is Elena neutralized for a few hours while Alyssa gets the word out. We cloak, follow, and use the dart.
Morgan stared at me, and then nodded. Your bag—they’ll—
You’ll have to guide me, I said.
Her eyes widened, and she stood, quickly tucking a few grenades into the pockets of her suit. It looked odd and bulky, but they would go invisible with her, and she’d still be armed.
I pulled my bag tight around my shoulders and watched her disappear eerily from view—it never felt any less strange. A moment later, there was a ripple by the door as it was pushed outward. I sat my rifle down and went invisible as well. The bag still showed, and if anyone came up behind me, it would be a dead giveaway. But maybe it would surprise people just enough…
From around the corner where the retinue couldn’t see my floating backpack, Morgan fed me instructions. I followed, my path surprisingly free of any people. Maybe it was because the queen was moving through, but it was definitely eerie. I could hear her talking ahead, but I couldn’t make out her words as I crept along the corridor, adrenaline pumping in my chest.
It felt nerve-wracking, just plain wrong. I kept expecting a trap, or somebody coming around the corner, but there was no one. Certainly they had installed thermal cameras. Morgan might be close enough to look like a stray guard in thermals, but if they showed the live footage of the hall at the same time, it would become obvious something was up. The palace had to have noticed by now… So where were they?
My muscles burned and began to shake as I continued to follow the processional, close enough to hear it, but not so close that I could see it. I knew I didn’t have long before I would have to stop—my stamina for using the suit wasn’t even close to what it had been before my fight with Tabitha. We needed to get there soon, or I was going to give everything away. The people watching the cameras weren’t so incompetent that they’d miss a girl dressed all wrong running around the halls this close to the queen.
Violet, they’re slowing down. There’s a room off to the right side of the hall, the door slightly open. I’m in there. Morgan’s voice came suddenly, but I felt a wave of relief as I picked up the pace a little. It was risky—once again, the bag was visible—but my control over the suit was going to give out. Soon. The pins and needles in my muscles were being replaced with straight up loose numbness. Never a good sign.
I kept moving straight, and then stepped into the room. I held my muscles tense for a few seconds more, slowly pushing the door closed but leaving it slightly ajar. I heard Elena’s voice through the crack, still muffled, and then my control gave out.
I reappeared instantly, my arms and legs burning fiercely as the feeling returned to them. Exhaling, I began shaking my arms and legs out, turning and looking around the room. Morgan appeared behind a wooden desk and looked at me quizzically.
Are you okay? she mouthed, her voice buzzing through the earbud.
I should be asking you that question, I replied, wiping my forearm against my forehead and grimacing when it came back slick with sweat.
The Gender End (The Gender Game #7)
Bella Forrest's books
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