Chapter 15
The gag tasted like oil and old cloth, pressing against Elena’s tongue until she wanted to retch.
She lay on her side in the back of a moving van, her wrists bound tightly behind her back with zip ties that bit into her skin every time the vehicle hit a bump.
The darkness was absolute—no windows, no light source, just the rumble of tires on asphalt and the muffled sound of voices from the front cab.
Elena had stopped struggling twenty minutes ago. The zip ties wouldn’t break no matter how hard she twisted, and thrashing around in the dark had only bruised her shoulders and depleted her energy. Better to stay still. Stay calm. Wait for an opportunity.
Dear Lord, she prayed silently, give me strength. Give me wisdom. And please... please let Reed know I didn’t leave by choice.
The thought of him waking up to find her gone, of him thinking she’d abandoned him again after everything they’d been through—it was almost worse than the fear of what Webb had planned for her.
The van slowed, then stopped. Doors opened, footsteps approached, and then the rear doors swung wide to reveal the gray light of pre-dawn.
Marcus Webb stood silhouetted against the sky, his silver hair immaculate, his expensive suit unwrinkled despite the early hour. He looked at Elena the way a collector might examine a rare artifact—with appreciation, possessiveness, and absolutely no regard for her humanity.
“Bring her,” he said to someone Elena couldn’t see.
Rough hands grabbed her arms and hauled her out of the van.
Her legs buckled after being cramped in the same position for so long, but the guards holding her didn’t give her time to recover.
They half-carried, half-dragged her across what appeared to be a private airstrip, toward a sleek jet that sat waiting on the tarmac with its engines already humming.
Webb walked beside her, his pace leisurely, his hands clasped behind his back like they were taking a morning stroll.
“You never should have left me, Elena.”
She tried to respond, but the gag turned her words into unintelligible sounds.
Webb smiled. “I know, I know. You had your reasons.
Principles. Morals. All those tiresome concerns about how WATCHDOG might be ‘misused.’“ He made air quotes with his fingers, his tone dripping with condescension. “But you have to understand—what we created together was extraordinary. You are extraordinary. Your mind, your capabilities...” He shook his head with what appeared to be genuine admiration. “I’ve worked with hundreds of brilliant scientists over the years, and none of them come close to you.”
Elena glared at him over the gag, pouring every ounce of her hatred into her eyes.
“I need you, Elena,” Webb continued, apparently unbothered by her hostility.
“WATCHDOG is powerful, but it could be so much more. With your help, we could expand its capabilities beyond anything the world has ever seen. Governments would pay billions for that kind of power. We could reshape the entire global intelligence landscape.”
They reached the jet’s boarding stairs, and Webb paused, turning to face her fully.
“I’m going to remove your gag now,” he said calmly. “If you scream, my men will hurt you. Not permanently—I need your mind intact—but badly enough that you’ll regret it. Do you understand?”
Elena nodded once, sharply.
Webb reached out and pulled the gag down around her neck. Elena gasped, sucking in clean air, working her jaw to ease the ache.
“Better?” Webb asked pleasantly.
“You’re insane,” Elena rasped. “You think I’m going to help you after everything you’ve done? After you tried to kill me? After you’ve been selling my work to terrorists and dictators?”
“I think you’ll do whatever I tell you to do,” Webb replied, “because the alternative is watching everyone you care about die. Those Star brothers, for instance. Very impressive men. Very loyal to you.” His smile turned cold. “Very easy to find, now that I know who they are.”
Elena’s heart clenched, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral. She couldn’t let him see how much that threat affected her.
“You won’t touch them,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
“I won’t have to—as long as you cooperate.” Webb gestured toward the jet. “Shall we?”
The guards pushed her up the stairs and into the aircraft’s luxurious cabin. Leather seats, polished wood accents, a full bar stocked with expensive liquor. This was Webb’s mobile office, Elena realized. The place where he conducted his most sensitive business.
They forced her into a seat near the back, and one of the guards secured her ankles to the seat base with another zip tie. Her wrists remained bound behind her, the position increasingly uncomfortable as the plastic dug deeper into her flesh.
Webb settled into a seat across from her, crossing his legs and pulling out his phone. “We’ll be in the air shortly. I have a facility in Eastern Europe where you’ll be quite comfortable while you work. State-of-the-art equipment, anything you need.”
“A prison,” Elena said flatly.
“A laboratory,” Webb corrected. “With considerably better security than your previous accommodations.” He began scrolling through his phone, apparently losing interest in the conversation.
Elena watched him, her mind racing.
She wasn’t afraid anymore. That was the strangest part. Somewhere between the van and the tarmac, her fear had burned away, replaced by something harder and colder. Determination. Resolve.
Because she knew something Webb didn’t.
During those long hours at the safe house, staring at the kill switch that had neutralized her virus, Elena had finally understood what she’d been missing. The countermeasure was elegant, sophisticated—and it had a flaw. A tiny gap in its logic that she could exploit with a few lines of code.
She knew how to destroy WATCHDOG. Knew it with absolute certainty.
All she needed was access to Webb’s network for thirty seconds—long enough to send a single email containing the modified virus.
The email itself would be the delivery mechanism, embedding the code into WATCHDOG’s communication protocols the moment it was opened by any device connected to the system.
And Webb’s phone was connected to the system. She could see the WATCHDOG interface glowing on his screen as he scrolled through security reports.
If she could get him to open an email from his phone...
“Mr. Webb.” One of the guards approached, holding a tablet. “The pilot says we’re cleared for takeoff in five minutes. But there’s an urgent message from Katarina. She says she needs to speak with you immediately.”
Webb frowned and took the tablet, setting his phone down on the armrest beside him. “What does she want now?”
He turned slightly away from Elena, focusing on the tablet’s screen. His phone sat unattended, inches from his hand, the WATCHDOG interface still active.
Elena’s heart pounded. This was it. Her one chance.
She shifted in her seat, testing the slack in her bonds. Her wrists were secured behind her back, but her fingers were still free. If she could just reach his phone...
“The Chinese delegation is threatening to withdraw,” Webb muttered, still focused on the tablet. “Apparently they’re concerned about security after last night’s... incident.”
Elena leaned forward slowly, carefully, using the motion to mask the way her bound hands were straining toward the armrest. Her fingers brushed the edge of Webb’s phone.
Please, Lord. Please let this work.
She grasped the phone and pulled it toward her, angling her body to hide the movement. Webb was still absorbed in his conversation with Katarina, his back partially turned.
Elena’s fingers fumbled across the screen, muscle memory guiding her even though she couldn’t see what she was doing. Email app. New message. The address she’d memorized years ago—a back door she’d built into WATCHDOG’s architecture that even Webb didn’t know existed.
She typed blindly, her fingers cramping as she struggled to hit the right keys. The message didn’t need to be long. Just a single line of code embedded in the body of the email—the modified virus that would slip past the kill switch and burrow into WATCHDOG’s core.
Send.
She felt the slight vibration as the email launched, and then she let the phone slip from her fingers, nudging it back toward where it had been resting.
“—tell her I’ll deal with the Chinese personally once we’re airborne,” Webb was saying. He turned back toward Elena and picked up his phone, barely glancing at it as he tucked it into his jacket pocket.
Elena kept her expression carefully blank, but inside, her heart was singing.
It’s done. The virus is sent. The moment anyone on WATCHDOG’s network opens that email, the system will start dying.
And Webb had just put the delivery mechanism in his pocket.
“You look pleased about something,” Webb observed, studying her with narrowed eyes.
“Just thinking about how badly this is going to end for you.”
Webb laughed. “I admire your spirit, Elena. I always have. It’s one of the things that makes you so valuable.” He glanced toward the cockpit. “We should be taking off any moment now. I suggest you get comfortable. It will be a long flight.”
Elena settled back in her seat, forcing herself to relax despite the zip ties cutting into her wrists. The virus was sent. WATCHDOG was doomed. Even if she never saw Reed again, even if Webb kept her locked in his Eastern European facility forever, she had accomplished her mission.
I did it, she thought. It’s over.
But even as relief washed through her, she felt the sharp ache of loss. Reed. His brothers. The future they might have had together. She’d sacrificed all of it to destroy WATCHDOG, and she didn’t regret the choice, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
I love you, she thought, sending the words out into the universe and hoping somehow they would reach him. I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye.