The gates of Senator Reynolds's estate cut into the night like wrought-iron claws, their tips frosted by the pale glow of security lights. Elena crouched in the shadow of a century-old oak, the bark rough against her back, and squinted at the patrol patterns of the guards. Their movements were too synchronized, their eyes glazed under the brims of their hats.
Sleeper agents.
She glanced at Marcus, who lay prone in the underbrush beside her, his rifle scope trained on the mansion's east wing. Moonlight caught the scar above his eyebrow, turning it silver. "Third-floor window," he murmured, voice barely audible over the cicadas. "Heat signatures show ten bodies in the server room. Two guards at the door."
Elena tightened the straps of her backpack, the weight of the stolen neural headset digging into her shoulders. "We need to get inside before Reynolds's speech goes live. If MORPHEUS activates tonight"
"I know." Marcus adjusted the scope, his jaw rigid. "But if this is a trap, we're walking into it blind. Chen's coordinates led us here. Why?"
"Because she wants us to see the network," Elena said, pulling up a holographic map on her wrist display. Seventeen red dots pulsed across the globe Geneva, Shanghai, D.C. each tagged with a MORPHEUS facility code. "These aren't just labs. They're broadcast hubs. And Reynolds's speech is the trigger."
Marcus lowered the rifle, his gaze sharpening. "You're saying they're going to brainwash an entire population at once."
"Worse." Elena zoomed in on the D.C. facility, its schematics unfolding in the air. "They're using the Senator's address to activate sleeper agents already embedded in governments worldwide. Soldiers, politicians, cops people no one would suspect. Once MORPHEUS goes live, they'll all flip like switches."
A twig snapped in the darkness. Both froze.
Twenty yards away, a guard paused, his head cocked as if listening to a voice only he could hear. The MORPHEUS implant beneath his ear glinted a tiny, serpentine scar.
Marcus's finger hovered over the rifle's trigger. Elena shook her head. Too risky.
The guard moved on, his steps unnervingly precise.
"We're running out of time," Elena whispered. "If we overload the servers before the broadcast"
"—we might destabilize the entire network." Marcus finished, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. "Or get ourselves killed. Either way, let's move."
The service entrance was a rusted door half-buried in ivy. Elena disabled the lock with a jolt from her EMP device, the hinges groaning as they slipped inside. The mansion's interior was a mausoleum of polished marble and oil paintings, the air thick with the cloying scent of orchids.
Marcus nodded to the security camera in the corner. Elena fried it with a pulse, the lens cracking. "Staircase ahead," he muttered. "Stay close."
They ascended silently, their footsteps swallowed by plush carpet. The third-floor hallway stretched like a bone-white throat, the server room's door glowing at the end. Two guards stood sentry, their pupils dilated, hands resting on holstered weapons.
Marcus pressed against the wall, his voice a breath. "Distract them. I'll take the shot."
Elena gripped his arm. "They're victims, Marcus. Not targets."
"They're hostiles."
"And we're here to save them, not add to the body count." She pulled the neural headset from her bag, its electrodes glinting. "I can disrupt their implants. Buy us thirty seconds."
Before he could argue, she stepped into the light.
The guards turned in unison, their movements marionette-sharp. Elena activated the headset, a low-frequency whine piercing the air. The guards clutched their heads, staggering.
"Now!" she hissed.
Marcus disarmed them with brutal efficiency, his elbow catching one guard's temple as he twisted the other's wrist until bone cracked. They collapsed, twitching.
Elena knelt, checking their pulses. "Alive," she confirmed, though their breaths came in shallow rasps.
Marcus kicked open the server-room door. "You're wasting time."
The room was a cathedral of technology, rows of servers humming like a mechanical heartbeat. Frost crept over the floor from overworked cooling systems. Elena plugged Chen's data drive into the central console, her fingers flying across holographic keys.
Files exploded across the screens encrypted manifests, neural maps, and a live countdown:
BROADCAST INITIATION: 00:12:33
"Twelve minutes," Marcus said, barricading the door with a server rack. "Can you stop it?"
"I can try." Elena's eyes darted across the data. "But I need access to the core code. It's buried under—"
The screens flickered. A video feed replaced the files Director Morrison in a lab coat, his smile a scalpel's edge.
"Hello, Dr. Vasquez. I see you've found our little network."
Elena's blood turned to ice. "Where's Chen?"
"Dr. Chen is… recalibrating. But don't worry you'll join her soon." The feed split, revealing Facility 17's stark corridors. "This is where we perfect the human mind. No more doubts. No more pain. Only purpose."
Marcus slammed his fist against the console. "You're a damn monster."
"And you're a relic, Detective. But don't fret we'll find a use for you." The countdown resumed. "Tick-tock."
The feed died.
Elena's hands shook as she typed. "I'm locking them out. If I reroute the broadcast signal through the headset, I might be able to reverse the activation pulse."
"Might?"
"It's never been tested."
Marcus reloaded his sidearm. "Do it."
Alarms blared as Elena jacked the neural headset into the console. The room shuddered, servers sparking. Marcus fired at the door, his bullets chewing through wood as guards threw themselves against it.
"Hurry!" he barked.
"Almost" Elena's vision blurred, the headset flooding her mind with code. Memories surged Chen in a lab, screaming as electrodes pierced her skull. Morrison's voice: "The network must survive."
The countdown hit zero.
A shockwave of static erupted from the servers. Elena screamed, blood trickling from her nose as the headset overloaded. Marcus caught her before she collapsed, dragging her toward the ventilation grate.
"Did it work?" he demanded.
Outside, the night erupted with chaos. Sirens. Gunfire. And above it all, Senator Reynolds's voice booming from every device in the city:
"Citizens of America… it is time to awaken."
Elena's heart stalled. "No. It it didn't work. They're activating the network."
Marcus hauled her into the ducts. "Then we blow it all to hell."
The tunnels beneath the estate reeked of mildew and rust. Elena stumbled, her head throbbing. Marcus gripped her waist, his touch the only anchor in the spinning dark.
"Where now?" she rasped.
"Facility 17." He activated a grenade, priming the pin. "We cut the head off the snake."
Above them, the mansion exploded.