Dawn

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Dawn Page 25

by Aleatha Romig


  Our fortress held secrets belonging to people around this state, country, continent, hemisphere, and globe. As Mason, Patrick, and I worked on moving information, it became a real possibility that accessing our network and files would benefit Morehead and propel her as a controlling player if she were to overthrow the Sparrow world.

  “I believe Top wasn’t completely correct in Morehead’s goals,” Mason said as the clock continued to tick.

  “What do you think he missed?”

  “World domination.”

  It made me grin. “That’s Sparrow’s goal.”

  Sparrow had left the tower to make an appearance at his Michigan Avenue offices. In different times, that wouldn’t have been necessary. With a half dozen FBI agents going through his networks, it was essential.

  “Yeah,” Mason replied. “I think Top has been either in power or isolated for so long, he underestimated Morehead’s thirst for supremacy.”

  “The other two goals?” I asked. “Memories and Laurel?”

  “He’s on target with those. The thing is, I couldn’t tell her how I did it—how I regained my memories. I could tell her it was Laurel, but that would only make her more determined to kill my wife.”

  “There wasn’t any drug or pharmaceutical involved, was there?”

  Mason shook his head. “No, just a blue-eyed stare and a woman who saw through me.” He smirked. “Fucking blew me out of the water. The more I saw her, talked to her, got to know her, the more I wanted.”

  As he spoke, I thought of Lorna, my wife and his sister. “I want it all.”

  “Patrick’s back,” Mason said, watching a subdivided screen. He, Garrett, and Romero, entered the elevator. Garrett and Romero would end up on 1. We had determined our most vulnerable spots. One was it. It was the floor most frequented by others. The other was the direct elevator to the penthouse. Though it was rarely used, and never by any of us, it existed. I had control of its ability to ascend and descend as well as stop it and operate the doors. Nevertheless, it remained a possibility.

  “They’re fucking getting close with the power grid,” I said.

  “The generators will kick on,” Mason said. “And Morehead knows that. She’ll know her window to bypass our security is limited.”

  “Ten seconds if we’re lucky,” I said, “and thirty to forty if she is.”

  Forty seconds seemed like a fucking lifetime when it came to what she could do. And though we hadn’t discussed him, Jettison too had been trained by the Order.

  “I have confirmation of Jettison two city blocks from the garage entrance,” Mason said.

  My stomach twisted.

  “Fuck,” I looked at the surveillance. “Sparrow just entered the tunnel.”

  “Jettison is literally seconds behind.”

  “Lock the garage entrance and call Sparrow and Patrick.”

  Lorna

  Half an hour earlier

  I wasn’t sure how jovial we appeared leaving the cars, walking across the tarmac, and climbing the stairs to the bird plane. I’m sure it had some official name and make and probably numbers. We all referred to it as the bird plane. Painted on the outside to resemble a giant sparrow, it was big, luxurious, and ostentatious.

  Bypassing the front room with the round table, most of us made our way to the center section and found seats for takeoff. The last person in the Sparrow parade was Madeline. Patrick carried Edward’s car seat as he followed her up the stairs. It was a few minutes later when Patrick entered the area with the rest of us. Since all the chairs were facing the huge television screen, he had our full attention as he took the car seat to a chair near the windows and strapped it in, as it had been in the car.

  “I’ve asked Christian to carry Edward,” he said, “but if he has business, would one of you? The weight of the car seat exceeds what Maddie should lift.”

  Ruby’s hand went up. “I’ve got him.”

  Patrick went to her and cupping her cheeks, tilted her head forward, and placed a kiss on the top of her hair. “I’m not giving up my hot chocolate.”

  Ruby smiled. “Get us back home, Dad. Mom and Edward need you.”

  “You don’t?”

  She sniffed. “I do, too.”

  My wide eyes met Laurel’s and then Araneae’s as they filled with tears and a sob bubbled up in my chest. Pushing it all away, I called out as Patrick started to leave. “Hey, Patrick.”

  He stopped and turned. “Lorna?”

  “We all do.”

  Instead of addressing my sentiment, he said, “Christian is in the cockpit with Marianne.” With a nod, he disappeared toward the front. It was another few minutes when Madeline entered. We could blame it on hormones or postpartum issues, but whatever the reason, she was having a difficult time. Red blotches covered her neck and cheeks as she dabbed her nose with a tissue and went to the seat beside Edward.

  Ruby unbuckled from where she’d been sitting and moved over by her mother and brother.

  I couldn’t be sure how much time passed. Keaton came and went, promising us all breakfast once we were at a steady altitude and offering everyone a bottle of water, complete with his standard dehydration and flying speech.

  By the time we left the ground, my head ached and my stomach twisted.

  We climbed higher and higher until we cleared the cloud deck and bright sunshine streamed through the windows. I wanted to think of it as a sign that the darkness from the early morning would clear and a bright, glistening dawn was on the horizon waiting for all of us and ready to deliver a bright new day.

  Keaton returned. “Ladies, you may unfasten your seatbelts if you want to move around. It’s a good practice to keep them buckled when seated. The bedroom suite is available, and I’ll have your breakfast in another fifteen minutes. Would you like to eat up front?”

  When no one responded, finally Araneae did. “Thank you, Keaton. The table up front would be perfect.”

  He grinned. “Very well, Mrs. Sparrow.”

  The way Araneae cringed at that title made me snicker.

  “Madeline,” Araneae said, “have you been on this plane before?”

  “No,” she said with a grin. “I can honestly say, I’ve never flown in a big bird before.”

  “Let me show you the suite. Maybe you and Edward can rest.”

  When Araneae began to unbuckle Edward’s car seat, Ruby intervened. “What? You’re pregnant. If you don’t have weight limits, you should.”

  Araneae smiled as she stepped back. “I’ll need you around when this one is born.”

  Ruby lifted the car seat. “Deal. Show us this fancy bedroom.”

  Once we were alone, Laurel turned to me. “I don’t like any of this.”

  My somber mood returned. “Me either. I am scared.”

  “Mason has never fully explained the organization he worked for while he was Edgar Price. I have picked up on a few things, I know the name, but mostly, it sounds unbelievable and dangerous. I know it’s dangerous because I watched the dean of my university campus die in front of me. I saw Russ.” She took a deep breath. “I’m scared too.”

  Araneae came from behind us. “They’re going to settle in the suite for a while. I told Keaton to take their breakfast in there.” She looked from Laurel to me and back. “If you’re up here spreading negative thoughts, I’m going to say, as Mrs. Sparrow” —she enunciated the name in a mocking manner— “I command you to stop.”

  Laurel nodded. “You’re right. Our attitude plays an important part in our decision process. We need to believe our men will be safe and in turn so will we.”

  “A little prayer wouldn’t hurt,” I said, thinking of my grandmother.

  “That’s better,” Araneae said. She laid her hand over her midsection. “I’m carrying a little princess or prince and he or she will know their daddy. I refuse to believe otherwise.” She looked my direction. “And I followed your directions, Lorna.”

  “Mine?” I asked confused.

  Araneae reached for one
of the chairs as the plane wobbled and hummed. “I don’t think I’d been in the tower for long. Shit, it might have been day one or two. Anyway, you mentioned that you always tell your man you love him every time you part. I think I responded with a comment about not really knowing Sterling and that love was a strong word.” She shrugged. “That’s probably not exact, but I have pregnancy brain and am allowed a little creative liberty. Anyway, that as well as many other tidbits of advice you’ve offered over the years stuck. I told Sterling how much I loved him before we went to the apartment level. I told him again before I got on that stupid elevator. I may have said a few other things in the penthouse, but the important thing is that he knows I love him.” Her light-brown eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. “Nothing is going to happen to any of them. I absolutely forbid it.”

  Reid

  The program watching the power grid appeared as a series of boxes and light. I understood it better than I could explain it. The important factor was that the number of lit boxes was decreasing exponentially. That meant that Morehead or Jettison was getting closer and closer to the right combination and the ability to shut down the building’s power supply. It wouldn’t be for long, but long wasn’t needed.

  “To make sure we’re on the same page,” I said, “when the power is interrupted, they won’t physically need to enter our building or floors if they can install a backdoor entry allowing them access in the future.”

  “Essentially,” Mason replied. “I fully expect and hope to God that they make the physical entry soon. If they don’t, we’re left in limbo. Unless, with such a small opening of time, between the three of us, we are able to locate the intruding counterprogram. Now, if it’s a virus, that changes things.”

  “A counterprogram is a virus,” Patrick said. “And our antiviral software is better than anyone else’s.”

  “I mostly agree,” Mason said, watching the monitor as Sparrow rode upward in the elevator. “Fucking make it,” he muttered.

  “Why only mostly?” I asked.

  “I’m not fucking full of myself,” Mason said as a countermeasure. “Morehead has gotten this far in and out of the Order because she’s smart, very smart. And other than knowing about Jettison’s flying skills, we don’t know what he’s capable of. Our antiviral software can stop anything that’s commonplace, most, if not all, of what is exceptional. I’m worried about what we’ve never seen before.”

  The lit boxes were down to one or two dozen, out of hundreds of thousands. The muscles in my neck and shoulders pulled tight as I alternated my attention between the power grid and the elevator. Up it moved. We watched the monitor feed from outside our steel door. Finally, the doors opened.

  I held my breath until Sparrow stepped forward and placed his hand in front of the scanner. The steel door began to move at the same time the boxes went totally dark.

  “Fuck,” Mason yelled as he bolted toward the door, throwing himself between the door and jamb.

  “Stop,” Sparrow yelled from the other side. “It will fucking cut you in half.”

  Patrick and I gripped the door as the powerful motor did what it was supposed to do, close. My fingers ached as we both pulled. The door hesitated and before we knew what happened, Mason managed to get out of our command center and to the man he’d sworn to protect.

  Patrick and I released the door before losing our fingers. It slid shut.

  “Fuck.” It was the only word I could articulate as I hurried back to the monitors and program. The screens flashed, but our battery backups wouldn’t allow them to crash. The lights throughout the entire building blinked off and then on.

  The roar of cooling fans accelerated. “The generator kicked on,” Patrick said. As he did, the steel door opened and Sparrow and Mason entered.

  “Ten seconds tops,” Mason said.

  “Did you think I wanted to tell your wife or your sister you were cut in half for a door?” I asked.

  “I didn’t do it for a door.” Mason walked toward his workstation. “We have ten fucking seconds to search and I mean thoroughly. Something happened. We need to know what it was.”

  Alarms began to sound.

  “What the hell is happening?” Sparrow asked.

  “Fire in the residential garage.” It wasn’t our private garage, but one for the other people who lived on any one of the over ninety floors. “The sprinklers are working.”

  “Fire in the overflow garage,” Mason said.

  Sparrow paced back and forth as small fires erupted only to be put out. One was in an office suite fifty floors up. There was another in a sandwich shop on the second floor. More alarms sounded.

  “Fucking distractions,” Sparrow said. He turned to Patrick. “Tell me you have 1 covered.”

  “It’s covered.”

  Alarms.

  Sirens.

  Flashing lights.

  Every small incident was immediately countered by the safety systems installed in the building. The local news was reporting that the fire department had been called.

  “Check the fucking back door,” Sparrow said. “Morehead wants our attention on this shit. What is she doing?”

  “Shit,” I said, my heart dropping. “Two fucking possibilities. We had a welcome team on 1 and they fucking chose door number 2.”

  Everyone gathered behind my chair as Morehead, Jettison, and two men I didn’t know rode up the exterior elevator to the penthouse.

  “Fucking make it stop.”

  My fingers feverishly moved over the keyboard. “I can’t. I have no control.”

  Patrick sat down at his workstation and also typed.

  “They’re moving higher.”

  “Another thirty seconds and they’re to the entry.”

  My teeth ached as my jaw clenched. “No fucking way am I this close to the man who hurt my wife and I’m sitting here.”

  As I opened a drawer near my desk and reached for my gun, Mason stood in my way. “Fuck no.” He pointed his finger at my chest. “Where is your vest?”

  “I don’t have time.” I looked over at the screen. “The damn doors are going to open and they’ll be in the fucking penthouse.”

  “No, they won’t,” Patrick said. “I overrode it.” He let out a sigh as the elevator began to descend.

  “Hold them a little longer,” I called as I went back to the locker room for my vest. Sparrow and Mason were a step behind. “Make them think they have control.”

  “Let me do this,” Mason said. “I owe Morehead the honor of dying from my bullet.” He turned to Sparrow. “Your place is in this fucking control room. What makes you think you’re putting on a vest?”

  “It’s moving,” Patrick yelled.

  “Because they took my wife, that is my home, and that bitch has been fucking with my world.”

  The three of us wearing our vests rushed back to the command center.

  Patrick looked up from the monitors and keyboards. “I think I can delay them another minute, but not much after that. I’ll let you know where they are.”

  The steel door opened with the scan of my hand. Our forward movement stopped as we approached the elevator doors. “If they have any control, they could lock us in there. Come here,” I said, leading the three of them to the emergency fire stairs we’d never used.

  “Fucking forgot these existed,” Mason said as we pried the door open.

  “We won’t be able to enter the penthouse,” Sparrow said. “I had a fake panel installed.”

  “I remember,” I said looking at Mason. “I’m a bit bruised, but I would say you and me together could knock the shit out of the panel.” I called Patrick. “Turn off the alarms in the stairwell.”

  Emergency lighting activated as we stepped onto the metal stairs, but no alarms sounded. Cobwebs crisscrossed from stairs to ceiling as we kicked up dust with each step. We stilled at the first-floor penthouse landing. The stairs continued up to the second floor of the penthouse.

  “Where does this come out?” Mason asked, lo
oking up.

  “Upstairs, it’s in an extra bedroom,” Sparrow answered. “Ruby’s bedroom. Shit, I just remembered on the first floor it’s in the library. There’s not only a panel but a fucking bookcase too.”

  Mason and I looked at one another and both began running to the second floor. Pulling the fireproof door toward us brought us face-to-face with the backside of decorative paneling. Mason grinned. “It’ll fucking be easier than a bookcase.”

  With Sparrow a step behind, we both rammed the paneling with our shoulder.

  “Motherfucker,” I muttered as pain shot down my injured arm and torso.

  “I have a better idea,” Mason said. Pushing me back, my brother-in-law held to the door as he brought the heel of his cowboy boot to the center of the paneling. As if it were nothing but pressed wood, the barrier splintered. I joined him, kicking away our obstacle. Soon we had an opening large enough for each of us to get through.

  Once we were standing in what was sometimes Ruby’s room, I reached for my phone. Instead of using the cell service from before, I switched to our direct line, calling Patrick. “Where are they?” I asked, knowing he was doing his job, putting out literal and figurative fires while watching everything unfold.

  Patrick responded immediately. “They’re in the penthouse. First floor. Jettison is headed up the staircase toward you. The other two men have split up. Fuck, Morehead is going to the elevator.”

  “She’s figured out that is where Laurel should be,” Mason said.

  “Let her enter the elevator. Try to keep her trapped for a while,” Sparrow said. “We’ll take care of these men first.”

  “Jettison is mine,” I said with my heart pounding against my bruised breastbone.

  Mason turned. “Sparrow, will you please let us handle this?” He tilted his head toward the hidden stairs. “Command center is safest.”

  “No. I’m not letting you handle this alone. You three have fucking backed me up. It’s my turn.”

 

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