INICIAR SESIÓNABIGAIL'S POVThe sound of that gate sealing still echoed in my head long after the metal stopped vibrating.I stood there for one full second, palm pressed flat against cold steel, my breath fogging against the reinforced glass, staring at the empty tunnel where the van had disappeared.Then I stepped back.“Alexander,” I said, and my voice didn’t shake. It couldn’t afford to. “Get me back in.”“I’m trying,” he answered immediately, but there was strain there now. “The van rerouted through an external exit node. I’m reacquiring through city grid.”Richardson was watching me.Like he was trying to decide whether I was about to break… or become something worse.My hands curled into fists.“No,” I muttered. “No, no, no.”Because this wasn’t over.It couldn’t be.“Abigail,” Alexander said sharply. “Signal reacquired. Temporary. The van’s on Highway 17 heading eastbound. Speed increasing.”Relief hit so hard my knees almost buckled.“Patch me into its system,” I said.“Abigail.”“Do it.”
ABIGAIL'S POV“One step closer, and he dies.”The words didn’t echo.They didn’t need to.They lodged in my chest like shrapnel.My palm was still pressed flat against the armored plating of the van. I could feel the engine vibrating beneath my skin, steady and alive, as if mocking the frantic rhythm of my pulse.“Mama.” Tristan’s voice crackled faintly again through the distorted frequency.The sound almost undid me.“I’m here,” I whispered, barely breathing. “Don’t be scared. Just listen to me.”Static swallowed whatever he tried to say next.Then the line cut. Dead.I closed my eyes for one second.“They’re moving,” Alexander said sharply in my ear. “Rear axle torque increasing. You’ve got three seconds before they accelerate.”I shoved off the van and rolled hard to the side as the engine roared. Gravel sprayed into my face. The armored vehicle lurched forward, crushing stones beneath its weight, and tore through the open yard toward the far fence.“Block the gate!” I shouted.“I’
ABIGAIL'S POVFor a second, I couldn’t breathe.My arms were still curved the way they had been when I was holding him. My fingers were still clenched like they were gripping fabric and warm skin and tiny bones.But there was nothing there. No breath against my neck. No trembling hands fisted in my jacket.A sound tore out of me before I recognized it as my own.“Tristan!”Smoke clung to the warehouse like it had no intention of leaving. It burned my lungs and coated my tongue with something metallic and bitter. My eyes watered, but I forced them open, scanning wildly, heart slamming so hard it felt like it might split my ribs.“Abigail.” Alexander’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. “Thermal signatures spiked during the flash. Multiple rapid exits. I’m tracking..”“Track faster!” I snapped, already moving.I stumbled forward, kicking aside a fallen rifle, shoving through the thinning smoke. Shapes loomed and dissolved — steel beams, fallen crates, the slumped body of one of t
ABIGAIL'S POVThe circle tightened.Eight of them advanced in a slow, deliberate sweep, weapons angled not wildly, not nervously, but with surgical precision. Their boots struck the concrete in unison, a steady rhythm that vibrated up through the soles of my shoes and into my spine.I shifted Tristan higher against my chest and stepped forward.My body moved before thought could interfere. My back straightened. My chin lifted. I angled my stance so my shoulder faced the most immediate line of fire.“Abigail…” Alexander’s voice came through the comm, strained but controlled. “I’m carving blind spots in the internal camera grid. You’ll have three-second windows where targeting feeds drop.”“Three seconds?” I breathed.“It’s all I can give you.”Tristan’s fingers fisted into my jacket. He was shaking now. His breath hitched against my collarbone.“Mama,” he whispered.The sound nearly shattered me.I pressed my cheek to his hair for half a heartbeat. “I’m here,” I murmured. “Don’t let go
ABIGAIL'S POV “Step aside, Abigail… or he won’t survive this.”Richardson’s voice didn’t echo like The Architect’s had. It didn’t slither through the speakers distorted and theatrical.It came from the shadows to my right. I turned slowly.The dim warehouse lights flickered once, twice — and then he stepped forward into the half-glow spilling from a broken overhead fixture.Richardson.Tristan was not in his arms.But he was close enough to him that I understood immediately — close enough that Richardson could reach him before I could if I made the wrong move.My entire body went rigid.Every emotion I had fought to suppress — rage, betrayal, disbelief — surged violently to the surface. My grip tightened around Tristan instinctively, my arm trembling from strain.“You,” I breathed.Alexander’s voice snapped into my ear, sharp and urgent. “Abigail, he’s testing you. Don’t react emotionally. Don’t give him that.”Testing me.Richardson’s gaze swept over me — assessing, not surprised. A
ABIGAIL'S POVI didn’t remember deciding.My body moved before my mind could fracture under the weight of the choice.The cable snapped.The catwalk lurched violently. Tristan slipped and I dove.My fingers closed around the back of his blanket just as gravity tried to claim him. The force nearly wrenched my shoulder from its socket. Pain exploded down my arm, white-hot and blinding, but I locked my grip and dragged him toward me with every ounce of strength I had left.The operative holding him lost balance for half a second, just enough.I slammed into him with my shoulder, twisting my body so Tristan was shielded against my chest. The metal grating groaned beneath us. My knees scraped hard against the catwalk as I pulled Tristan fully into my arms.“I’ve got him,” I gasped.The words tore out of me like a prayer.But the threat wasn’t gone.The shadow above landed behind me with a metallic clang.The figure who had descended from the beams wasn’t neutral.He moved with precision, w







