THe shadows crept in from the corners, stretching, grasping at Brynn as she walked down the dim hallway. She rushed down the hallway past dozens of secure doors, trying to ease calm into her frayed nerves. Sweat chilled her. The small hairs on her arms stood on end leaking heat into the cool air.
There wasn’t much time. Let it be enough. Please be enough. She cursed her clacking heels, advertising her presence to anything with even the most dullard of ears. She rounded a corner, forcing calm into her nerves and the smile that had charmed millions warmed her face. This is it. This is the last chance. It goes to shit if I fail.
Reynolds looked up from his desk. Brynn’s grin grew wide and warm. She liked Reynolds. Better still, Reynolds liked her. A deep breath brought calm to Brynn’s mind, but all Reynolds saw was the way the silk of her blouse expanded.
“Good evening Miss Caldwell,” Reynolds said shifting his gaze to her eyes in embarrassment. “I didn’t expect to see anyone in the Dungeon tonight of all nights.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Brynn? At least when we’re alone,” Brynn grinned, a crooked smile bringing a flush to the burly man’s face. Her touch to his arm, such a simple gesture, so easily missed, became Reynolds’s entire world.
Damn. How easy deception comes these days. Brynn swallowed her doubts. There was too much at stake for guilt to turn her course.
It only took a moment for Reynolds’s to regain his professionalism. With an effort, Brynn saw the man bury his desires under a veneer of responsibility. “I thought everyone was up at the gala?” His tone hovered on the border between curiosity and suspicion. Brynn had to ease those thoughts back.
“You know Mr. Bechard, always some last minute tweak.” To heighten her authority, she held up the pulse drive, forcing her hand steady. It was a perfect copy of the one that Alistair carried at all times. It was a master key to the Realms.
Reynolds nodded and sat upright. Brynn didn’t think the ex-military man could be more at attention. Even he knew the tiny device was the literal key to power. Brynn inserted the pulse drive into a slot on Reynolds’s security desk. A tense moment hung heavy in the air before a panel swooshed open on the blast grade metal door. A biometric scanner powered to life, the green glow adding a sinister hue to the room. Reynolds stood and held his hand over the scanner.
Reynolds hesitated and Brynn saw his shoulders tense. She could almost see his thoughts. Why would the VP of Public Relations need access to the room behind this door? He paused, palm hovering over the sensor as doubt thrashed through his brain.
Brynn’s mind was lightning, seeking an out. “And here I thought I was higher up the corporate ladder,” Brynn said adding a sexy pout to her voice. “It should be Schechter down here, not me.” Brynn paused, finger to lip. “But Mr. Bechard said I’m the one he trusts so I guess that’s something.”
Reynolds’s shoulders relaxed. He too thrived on the approval of Alistair Bechard. Reynolds’s reverence was almost religious, akin to being chosen by God.
Brynn heaved a silent sigh of relief as Reynolds activated the sensor pad and turned with an intense stare. He held the handle in a fierce grip, muscles tensing and releasing as his mind battled.
“Typical Alistair, I’m sorry, Mr. Bechard,” Brynn said, mustering schoolgirl embarrassment at her calculated faux pas. “He probably decided that the Dragon’s Claw Inn needed cream colored curtains instead of eggshell.”
A smile crossed Reynolds’s face. Everyone at Sacrosanct Integrative Networks knew the big bosses obsession with perfection. Bechard had a literal army of programmers, but they had only the smallest input on the project. Bechard handled all the core coding. Reynolds chuckled a tad. “That’s what makes him the best. Always willing to go that extra inch.”
“Paint the underside of the drawers,” Brynn said, repeating one of Alistair’s favorite mantras.
“Paint the underside of the drawers,” Reynolds said in response as if it were a religious phrase. He pulled the door open with a fluid motion. Brynn flowed past, tracing his arm with a light touch as she passed.
“This has to work,” Brynn thought forcing calm with a measured and confident pace. She neared the corner. One more turn and her quarry was hers. Reynolds’s sharp voice called out.
“Miss Caldwell.”
Brynn took a slow calming breath as she turned back, remembering the man’s history, the man’s training. Brynn knew the things he could do. She smiled as he came into view.
“Don’t take too long,” Reynolds said. His intense stare chilled Brynn. Had she conned Reynolds, or had he been playing her? Seconds became hours before a grin eased Reynolds’s face. “If anyone deserves the party upstairs, it’s you.”
Brynn masked her relief under a veil of embarrassment. “I’m just a girl who talks to people Reynolds. I’m the least important cog in this machine.”
“You’re much more than that ma’am. Much more.” Reynolds smiled and eased the door shut with a hiss and a metallic clang. Brynn’s heart raced. Locked in a literal dungeon. Cool and dark with no way out.
Brynn turned the corner and entered the Nexus Chamber. The long room pulsed with heat despite the frigid air pulsing from the vents. Long rows of linked quantum cores shot into the distance. The quantitative power in this one room was staggering. Brynn walked up to the control dais as a large holo-vis projector came to life.
Brynn inhaled, gripping the pulse drive in her fist. Reynolds feared the small device as much as she did. It was the key to a new world. A world unaware of what was coming. She shook with the full understanding of the desperate gamble she was taking. One that may very well cost her life. A gamble that might save millions more.
Brynn plugged the pulse drive into the slot on the desk. Swirls of light pulsed inside the small device and a moment later a calm voice rose in the room.
“Access granted. Welcome back, Mr. Bechard.”
Brynn glanced over her shoulder one last time, knowing she was alone, but still needing to look. She pulled a second pulse drive from her bra and knelt. Gentle pressure against the dais caused a panel to slide open. Brynn plugged the second drive into the backup access port and stood.
Brynn’s fingers sped across the keyboard seeking the hidden directory Sean had installed. His risk was as big as hers, bigger even. If Alistair knew what Sean had done, what she did now, both would disappear. Brynn was sure of that.
A prompt shone on the holo-vis. UPLOAD PATCH? A blazing YES blinked in time with her thundering heart. Her finger hesitated over the panel. Thump, Thump. Blink, Blink. Thump, Thump. Blink, Blink. Her finger spiked down, and the patch cycled into the quantum core. It wormed its way into the billions of lines of code, altering the tiniest fraction of their purpose.
A moment later the upload finished and the second pulse drive ran a purge, erasing any evidence. Only Reynolds knew she had been here, and he was so in awe of Mr. Bechard that he would never speak to the man unbidden. The risk was minimal. It had to be.
Brynn allowed herself one last look into the infinite worlds contained in the room. “There is no choice. Alistair Bechard must be stopped.”
Brynn pulled the pulse drive from the core. A deep sigh released pent up tension. The release that comes with knowing whatever happened now was out of her hands.
“It’s up to you Finn,” Brynn said to the empty room. “I’m so sorry.”
