Torn (Deep 8, #5)

50. Roger

FIFTY

Roger

"There is a break in the fucking code." Lucas steps closer to me, his eyes boring into mine. "Santini says it looks like someone broke it on purpose."

"If there’s a break, it had to be there before it came into our possession." I lean down. "Don’t forget you put me on a forty-eight-hour deadline. There’s only so much we can do in that time. We only came across it because we had our guy look at it."

He steps back, runs his hand over his hair, and glances at his watch. Beads of sweat form on his forehead. "What do we have to do to get this working? We’re on a timeline."

Peter rolls forward, his face lacks its usual charm. "You have to put this thing together and get it to upload. Once it starts loading, I have the drive with the entrance code to fix it."

Lucas holds his hand out. "Santini will take it from here."

"No, you want us to prove ourselves, and Peter’s fingerprint and retina scan are needed to open the program on a laptop. Unless you are going to cut off his finger and rip his eyeball out, you need him to work on this at the mainframe." We put every safeguard in place we could think of.

Lucas hesitates, his eyes flicker with uncertainty. "Well played. Follow me." He heads to the stairs, and Peter heads for the elevator, descending to the lowest level.

The level below the living room juts out from the building. It’s an expanse of gold and opulence, dominated by a huge structure in the center. The ceiling is open to the night sky, stars glimmer like cold witnesses.

Lucas speaks into his walkie. "Bring her in."

On the far side of the room, one of Lucas’s men drags Harlow, her steps faltering. I brace myself for the sight, but nothing can prepare me. I close my eyes and dig deep to be the evil my father wants me to be.

Her eye is swollen shut, her lip is split, and blood drips from her head and legs. Her clothes are sprayed with dark red blood. She cradles her arm as if it’s broken, and her open eye is foggy with pain. I can only assess the outside. There’s no telling what her internal damage is.

A lump rises in my throat, but I manage to swallow it down, focusing on what the goal of this mission is. "Someone was very naughty." I wave my finger at her and force a smile, my heart breaks on the inside.

"I assume you got the phone call she made on one of my guard’s phones," Lucas says, his eyes narrowing.

"I don’t have a phone. Lost it a while ago. She didn’t contact me." I move toward her, fighting the urge to grab her and run.

She watches my every move while blood drips from her mouth, but I can tell she’s assessing the situation. I almost break character of being Lucas’s son.

I lean down, my voice cold. "Tell me Harlow, who did you call? I guess they didn’t get the message because I don’t see anyone here to save you." I laugh, but the knife twists in my chest.

She spits on me as the bloody saliva stains my white lapel. "Baby, it’s so nice you dressed up for me. You didn’t have to do that."

"I haven’t done anything for you, baby," I sneer.

"She will be of no use to us." Lucas’s eyes burn into my back. "Take her back downstairs and end her." He’s testing me.

"I have a much better idea," I counter, meeting his glare with my hands behind my back. "Let her sit and watch the show. She spent all this time chasing her father’s ghost, only to find out he was not a knight in shining armor. We should all witness how his genius will change the world under our rule." I stare up at the structure in the middle of the room.

Click.

Lucas presses a gun to my temple. "I don’t believe for one minute you’ve changed sides to be part of Deep 8."

I rotate, pressing the gun flush with my forehead. "What’s not to believe? You’re a complete genius. It was sheer brilliance. Leading us on a chase, making us think you were gathering intel on Deep 8—incredible. I never would have guessed you were the supreme leader of Deep 8. Why wouldn’t I want to be on board with this? The world is changing, whether we like it or not. Let me prove the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."

Lucas’s hand trembles. I doubt he has ever shot anyone in his life. My hand darts up, snatching the gun from him. "Leave the shooting to the professionals."

Three lasers settle on my chest. The ammo falls from the gun and hits the floor as I hand the gun back to Lucas. "Here, you had the safety on. I do have one question. Why didn't you get the pieces yourself?"

"I needed to disappear, and I knew you could get them for me without a problem. There were too many eyes on my movements. People were starting to become suspicious of my activities. Who better to do my dirty work than my own flesh and blood?" His smile is insincere.

Turning away, I force myself not to punch him in the face as my stomach turns. I focus on the structure and not on Harlow. Her eyes will be my undoing in this situation. "Now, where were we?"

"The satellite will be in perfect position in about thirty minutes. We’re cutting it close." Lucas moves toward the structure.

He climbs a platform, placing the two pieces and the necklace on the console. The two pieces fit together perfectly as he reaches for a third piece under the console. A drop of red liquid from the necklace’s tip melds the pieces into a large egg shape. Lucas places it in the structure’s center, climbs down, and walks back to us.

"Why did you have the pieces scattered all over the world? Why not have them in one place, ready to go?" I question.

"That’s how little you know and why you are not a leader. The person who has all the pieces controls the entire program. The other team members didn’t want to take that chance, so I eliminated them one by one. Thanks to you." He speaks into the walkie. "Is the cripple ready? The program is in place."

"Yes. He’s here with Santini. They are working together."

"How could you work with a handicapped guy? He doesn’t have it all together. He’s half a man," he snarks at me.

I tug on my ear, signaling it’s time to set the watches for thirty minutes until this place goes up in flames. We didn’t account for Peter not being here, and he has two men with him.

"Sometimes half the man has all the brains. You watch him and Santini become unstoppable for Deep 8." I almost choke on my words, regretting them.

A thud echoes at the other end of the room as Harlow collapses to the floor. My head turns in her direction, and then back at the structure where the lights flicker on. "Leave her there. She’ll miss the best show on earth." My voice is steady despite my nerves.

Lucas nods at the guard to leave her, then glances over at her crumpled body when I see a moment of sympathy from him. He doesn’t have feelings for her. He’s only acknowledging he’s known her for a long time. "It’s too bad. She could have been a real asset to the organization," he murmurs.

"How much of an asset could she have been? She didn’t even put up a fight," I quip.

"You should see my men. They wanted at her without her being tied up. I tried to warn them."

Warmth floods through me, pride for Harlow’s defiance. Of course, Lucas would want to tie her up. He never likes too much of a challenge.

"Boss, we have a problem. Our security system is offline. I can’t tell who’s who and the floor sensor can’t detect the guys’ weight."

I grab the walkie from Lucas. "Peter, did you hear that? What’s the fix?"

"Shut down the system and reboot. Everything should come back online," Peter responds.

Lucas glares at me. "What makes you think Santini couldn’t fix it?"

"Because your IT guy is an expert on only your program and not a military-grade security system. You’re welcome." I hand back the walkie and smile, confidence masking my anxiety.

We planned this so the teams could infiltrate and pose as his men. They will match weights and use the corresponding tags.

Five more minutes go by and no word from the lower level. Peter has to take out two guys and get to the mainframe. We’re running out of time.