Z bit his lip, but he nodded and locked the doors anyway, grabbing a handful of Cerberuses from her pack. He was right to doubt her—of course he was. Fey’s leg hurt like hell, but again, she had been right when she said it was a clean shot. It could’ve been a lot worse and it thankfully wasn’t, so she took all of her pain and complaints, and swallowed it down as she moved to pull a roll of cloth from her bag.
First, she would have to stop the bleeding.
Gritting her teeth, she tightly wound her leg, deciding that given their current circumstances, cleaning it would have to wait. After the pain subsided, she pulled herself up, grunting, as she shifted her weight. “How are you setting up the Cerberuses? Don’t they have a timer of 10 seconds?”
“I created these bad boys. You think I don’t know how to program them?” Fey shrugged, realizing that it was probably true, and she should probably just trust the mechanic. “Can you comm to home base?”
Fey reached up and pressed the button on the bottom that would comm in Celine, and knowing the king, probably him too. “Celine?”
There was silence.
“I can’t get anything,” Fey announced, and Z cursed, standing and pushing his unruly hair out of his face. “What?”
“I faced the same problem in the van is all. Hopefully everything is alright on that side,”
Fey nodded, looking around the room in consideration of any other way to get out, seeing as their only means of escape was blocked by searching guards. There was a thudding on the door, and Fey immediately limped to where there was a moldy couch, pushing it over to where the door was.
“They’re in here!” someone on the other side called out, and Fey felt her heartrate quicken.
“Z, you keep on putting those bombs in place. Also, see if you can find another way to get out. I’ll barricade the door.”
“Your leg-”
“Will be fine. Keep on going.” Securing the couch in place, she scanned the room again, cursing the limited furniture. She spotted two metal bars out of the corner of her eye, and she grabbed them, limping as fast as she could to wedge them in the doorframe. “I’ll try Celine again,” she muttered, just loud enough for Z to hear.
“Celine! Hollingsworth, pick up the comm,” she murmured, pushing a hutch over to the door, swearing as she realized she couldn’t life it alone. “Celine!”
“Fey?” Fey sighed at the sound of her voice, sagging in relief before the sharp pain in her leg shot up, and she remembered that she wasn’t in a place to be relieved.
“Thank god you’re finally on; we got a semi-problem.”
“What did you do?” Fey rolled her eyes at that. What did they do?
“We got in- you’re welcome Jax,” she added, and there was a pause on the other end, presumably filled with a confused Jax and Celine. Fey knew the king well enough to know that was way more invested in their missions than he gave off, so of course he would with Celine monitoring their progress.
“Where are you, Downcley?” he asked.
“We’re stuck in a room on the way to the control room—don’t ask why we’re even here—and we can’t get out. And I’m 99% sure they’re getting a battering ram on the other side.”
“I don’t even want to know your definition of complete problem,” Celine informed her fellow female Strategist, sighing. “Jax, can you get a map up?”
Jax shot back a reply, slightly muffled, and Fey paid no heed to what the king was saying, or what Celine affirmed back to him. “Okay, so did you get the information?”
“Um. Well-” Fey started, wincing a bit, preparing for the shrill voice of a frustrated Celine Hollingsworth.
“Did you?”
“Would you be disappointed if I said-”
“Fey!”
“Yup?”
Suddenly, the comm was turned off, and Fey started to plead. “Celine? Hollingsworth. Get back on the damn comm,” Realizing her tactic wasn’t working, Fey licked her lips and sucked up her pride to start complimenting Celine. “You looked really nice today. Your dress? —magnificent.”
“Fine,” Celine gave in, informing Fey of her arrival back into conversation.
“Thank you,” Fey breathed, “Do you have the map yet?”
“Jax is going to have blisters in the morning with how fast he’s looking. Not yet. Patience is a virtue.”
Fey muttered an okay back, just as she felt the door shudder. Pushing back a groan, Fey realized that they were trying to breach the doors, and silently pleaded Z to hurry up with finding an exit, or at least finish with the bombs so he could help her with the damned doors.
“Is someone dying?” Celine asked.
“Most probably,” Fey said dismissively. “They’re trying to push open the doors, which are luckily huge and heavy, but there is barely anything here to barricade the entrance with. Besides, Z is setting up bombs and trying to find an exit, so he can’t help me. Jan was shot, so was I, and my eyesight was temporarily compromised-” Fey stopped, realizing that Celine wasn’t even listening to her. So she rolled her eyes, grunting with the next attempt on the door and gave a shove back in retaliation.
“Oh, did you know that January’s last name is Kurata?” Fey asked, knowing that Celine would probably take the bait for banter.
“Seriously?” she asked. Jackpot, Fey thought, grinning.
There was another buzz, and Jan’s crackly voice came through. “Kurata-Tormont. And seriously Downcley?”
Fey felt her heart hammer out of her chest in rage. “Well now you decided to show up? Where are you?”
“Time out,” Celine called. “Jan wasn’t with you?”
Fey winced. “Whoops?”
“And January; you decided to contact us to correct your last name that we don’t even need to know?”
“Whoops?” Jan this time, offered.
“Oh god.”
“Well, where are you?” Fey demanded, and if her arms weren’t already preoccupied, she probably would have crossed them over her chest.
“Well,” Jan started, “That’s the problem,”
“Jan…” Celine groaned, but before she could say anything else, Jax said: “I got the map. I sent it, Hollingsworth. Don’t worry.”
“Well at least one person is doing their job right!” Celine said, her way of both thanking the young king and berating Fey and Jan.
Fey started to protest, but Jan’s miffed words riding on top her’s, effectively cancelling her out. But when Jax spoke up, they both shut up. “What was the problem with getting the information?”
“We’re not in the control room yet, and judging by the security of this place, it will be hard when we do. Z, I, and maybe even Celine will have to work really hard on it if—when—we get it,” Fey said.
“And they will. Is Z with you? He’s awfully quiet,” Jax asked.
“He’s with me,” Fey replied. “He’s setting up more explosives.”
“Can Jax send the maps of the vents?” Z shouted to get heard by the comm, and Fey almost repeated the request when she heard Jax’s response.
“On it.”
“Oh shit,” Fey breathed, as a particularly vicious attempt was made, pushing all the air out of her lungs as the couch she was pushing on was thrust into her stomach. Another round of fire sounded in the air, accompanied by a noise Fey would describe as destruction happening on the other end of the door.
“What happened?” Celine asked, worry colouring her voice.
“They’re getting in,” Fey announced, as she pushed back against the barricades as hard as she could, her entire body being shuddered back and forth at their blows. “Z! Get your ass over here and help me with this hutch!”
“Now what?” Celine asked, and Fey could hear the blonde’s concern.
“I’m taking out my guns.”
“You better not ruin my scarlet Dolman sleeved top, or I will have your head in a display case.” Fey chuckled, because of course Celine Hollingsworth was thinking about clothes right now.
“Hollingsworth, I’m on a very messy mission. My shirt will get a little messed up.” And with that, Fey stopped responding with the comm instead using both hands to help Z hoist the hutch on top of the array of furniture serving as a blockade. “Please tell me you have a way to get out of here.”
“Of course, I do. It just is extremely risky and relies on Jax sending the right map.”
Fey sighed, bracing herself for the next blow. “Of course, it is. Something about vents?”
“Yep.” There was a ding, and Z smirked, pulling out the rebooted device he called a phone, looking at the small screen. “We have a way out now. Still risky, though.”
“Well if it’s not risky, what’s the point of us doing it?” Fey bitterly quipped, pushing her hair back irritably. “How does said plan work?”
“There are two vent entrances in this room. Due to the lack of furniture, we have to go through the one we can reach. Then we climb through the vents and get into the control room.”
“Foolproof. Which way is the entrance that we can reach, though?” Fey asked, noting the somber tone of his voice. He just pointed to the panel on top of the blockade, which would only be accessible if they climbed on top of all the stacked objects. “Oh.”
“Yep. I’ll go first, then you quickly climb and I hoist you up.”
Fey stayed silent for a moment, not in deliberation, but merely preparation. There was a huge shudder, and Fey knew that Z had to go now. “Hurry.”
He scurried on the furniture, and the next blow came sooner than Fey anticipated, just as Z wrestled the vent cover off, rocking the furniture as Z teetered on the top. Luckily, it didn’t happen a moment before, so Z could hold onto the opening of the vent and pull himself up as soon as his feet were stable.
“How tight of a squeeze?” Fey asked.
“Not bad at all,” he shot back, watching as Fey pushed back against another attempt, this one slightly opening the doors. “Come up now. It’s your only choice.”
Fey braced herself, then climbed onto the sofa, pulling herself on top of the hutch, ignoring the pain coursing through her body. “You know, only choice makes no sense. A choice refers to a multitude of-” she grunted, Z reaching out to grab her hands, helping her up. “-options,” she finished, lying back in the vent as Z placed the cover back in its place. “My leg hurts like hell.”
“Well then, more the reason for you to shut up and follow me so we can take a good look at it.”
Fey scowled, but she also shut up.
They found the control room without much difficulty, and Z expertly locked the locks and hacked in, leaving Fey with the easy work of getting the select information. It was all too easy, really, which was the first hint that cosmic retribution would screw them over. Z commed in Jan a few times, and soon enough, the blonde came in, dressed oddly enough, in a guard’s uniform. Fey felt her eyebrows skyrocket up, but she didn’t say anything about the ill-fitting garment, instead handing off the hard drive filled with all the oddly encrypted files to Z.
Whatever were in those files were important; the coding on them were impressive, and Fey could only make out bits and pieces. The fact that scared her the most however, was the amount of times that Immortales came up in them. There was Immortale classified information in the hard drive that she just handed to Z. This was big.
Then of course, the radio buzzed and of course, Jan responded. Apparently, they would have been more suspicious if no one replied, but speaking into the radio was a risk. It was a gamble, because if they already were suspicious, then everything would be confirmed.
Fuming, Fey stalked over to the monitor closest to the door, making sure that she gotten all the files she needed, when she heard the door wing open, and a cold barrel of a gun was pressed to her temple. Of course, they couldn’t get through easily.
“Captain,” Jan scowled as soon as he turned, his slate eyes narrowed. “How did you-”
“I was suspicious, so I radioed in. When I got that response, I came up here immediately. You loyalists aren’t going anywhere.”
“Who’s to stop us?” January asked coldly.
“Reinforcements are coming up.” Something froze in Jan’s face, almost unperceivably, but Fey could tell he was already forming a plan.
“Give her back to us,” Jan simply said, and Fey would’ve raised an eyebrow at that, but the gun shoving into her skin was effectively keeping her still.
“Or what?”
Jan pulled out a knife, angling it towards the motherboard in the center of the control room. “Or else I will drive this knife in here, and you will lose all of your information.”
Fey’s fingers twitched towards the monitor she was just on, and she prayed that the Captain wouldn’t look. Because if she did, she might have been able to tell that there was nothing to wipe, because Fey had already transferred it all to the hard drive within the folds of Z’s jacket.
“You need that information,” the Captain said, but Fey could hear the waver in her tone. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Time’s running out. You can let us leave and keep your information; be viewed as successful in some aspect. If you don’t, you’ll lose everything.”
“That’s not enough.”
“You can also have our hard drive. It has all the information that we copied.”
Fey shot Jan a dark look, but he refused to meet her eyes. The Captain’s grips on Fey’s neck loosened slightly. “Put it on the ground and slide it towards me. I’ll release the girl then.”
Hesitantly, Jan crouched down, pulling a hard drive from his pocket, sliding towards the Captain as instructed. The Captain grabbed the drive, and Fey watched bitterly as all her hard-earned infiltration was handed over to the rebels once more. Except…
The barrel was lifted off of Fey’s forehead, however, and she was shoved forward. Her bad leg buckled slightly, but she picked herself up before Jan’s outstretched hand could catch her. “What did you give her?” she whispered.
“Later,” he shot back. “Now, Z!”
Before Fey could even process what was happening, Z stepped out from behind Jan, and whipped a vial at the ground by the Captain’s feet. The glass cracked open, letting a watery substance trickle out, coloured a pale green.
The liquid spread, and before long, the floor underneath the Captain hissed and started to crumble. Fey took a step back, silently gripping Jan's outstretched arm in horror as she watched the Captain fall as the acidic substance are through the floor, leaving nothing to stop the Captain's freefall.
“How-?” Fey didn't even have to finish her question, because Jan understood her immediately, his own voice as distant and unbelieving as her own.
“I knew she was bluffing about reinforcements, and then Z told me he had a plan. I just trusted him.”
“It's something I was toying around with. It worked…” Z trailed off, half in amazement and disbelief at the success of his own invention.
“And the hard drive?” Fey asked, this time gaining some composure and letting go of Jan's arm.
“Also, something Z gave me,” Jan said, his brows furrowed. “How did you get that, by the way? I'm assuming that it wasn't the files we needed,” he turned to Z, some of his shock also seemingly wearing off.
“It's pure gibberish. When I first got in, after I hacked into the database, I tried to infiltrate. It didn’t work out, and Fey had her own hard drive, which is still safe with me, by the way,” he added, as a precaution so neither Jan or Fey herself would come jumping after it. “We have one problem with our plan though.”
“We don't have the authorization for the elevator,” Jan finished with a resigned sigh, punching the motherboard he was threatening to completely destroy only a few moments before. “The escape just got a whole lot harder.”
“You’re wrong,” Fey said, opening her palm to reveal an ID card that she managed to steal from the captain. Z reached out to grab it, turning it over and examining it.
“How did you-?” Z shook his head
, grinning. “You’re good.”
“Of course, I am,” Fey shot back, allowing herself to feel slightly smug. “So, vents?”
Z nodded, standing on the table to find where the entrance was, and Jan groaned. “I won’t fit in that,” he complained, glaring at the vent. Fey beamed.
…
It took much longer than before, seeing as Jan’s shoulders kept getting caught in the too small structure and he was horrible at army-crawling, along with the fact that Z stopped every now and them to ensure they were in the right place. But long after Fey preferred, Z turned to them to put a finger over his mouth, and Fey rolled her eyes at the gesture. She was pretty sure, neither her nor January were stupid enough to start making noise when they were potentially guards underneath them.
Z pulled the cover off, sliding it with a scratching noise that made Fey wince. Honestly; if the rebels had any doubts of where they were, they were all gone now.
But it seemed to be clear, because Z leaped down, leaving Fey to follow suite. By some stroke of luck, none of them managed to roll their ankles, but by another stroke of misfortune, there was gunshots echoing the hallways close to them. They’re onto us.
“Where’s the elevator?” Jan hissed, and Z jerked his head down the hall, away from the gunshots.
Running as fast as they dared without making a sound, they reached the elevator, which was taking an anxiously long time to reach their floor. Z was jittering, and Jan was muttering curses under his breath. Fey just stood by the corner where the rebels could turn onto any second, gun cocked and ready to shoot.
Something grabbed her arm, and she whirred around to press her gun onto Z’s temple, who looked irritated at her hostile behaviour. “Relax.”
She put her gun down to glare at him. “Not in this place. The elevator?”
Z nodded, leaving them both to quickly jog the few paces where Jan was holding open the doors for them. “In, in, in,” he hurried them, and Fey shoved past him, grabbing the ID out of Z’s hand.
“Here,” she said, handing Jan the card which he took with raised eyebrows. “You hold it in place, and hold the close doors button. Z and I will work on a way to make sure no one can get in.”
The Reformation Page 21