Chapter 4 #2
“You want me to build a kill switch for the kill switch.” My brain was already mapping possibilities, spinning out branches of code and failure modes. Difficult, yes. Impossible, no. “It won’t be fast—but I can do it.”
“Good. The internal situation at the Bureau is…volatile.” George chose his words carefully.
“As you can tell, we’re still trying to work out all the details of what is happening.
Although there’s no indication of any danger aimed at Vertex, we’ve brought in external assets to ensure your safety while you work on the countermeasure.
You’ve obviously met Ty Hughes. He has been fully vetted and cleared. ”
I glanced at Ty, whose focus was on George.
“No offense to Mr. Hughes, but one man isn’t exactly—”
“I’m more than decoration, Doc.” The drawl was back, but underneath lay something sharper. “I know you think I’m just another gun-toting contractor who’s going to contaminate your clean room, but I’ve kept assets breathing in situations a lot less controlled than your lab.”
“This isn’t a war zone.”
“No.” Those whiskey eyes found mine. “But just in case your china shop turns into one, this bull will be ready.”
I was never going to live that down.
Alex finally spoke. “George, we’ll need full immunity provisions and hazard pay for any team member who agrees to work on this.”
“Already approved. I’m sending the paperwork now.” George turned to me. “Dr. Gifford, Mr. Richards, I can’t express how grateful we are for your continued cooperation. The Bureau knows we’ve failed you, but—”
I closed my tablet, more weary than angry. “We’ll build the countermeasure because it has to be done—because it’s the right thing to do. But trust?” My voice came out quieter, steadier. “That’s not something we can give you right now.”
The call ended with more general talk between George and Alex that I tuned out completely.
My mind was already racing through the technical requirements for a stabilizer code.
We’d need to identify the specific frequency signatures, create an interference pattern that could disrupt the cascade reaction without triggering it, deploy through existing cellular infrastructure—
“Charlotte.” Alex’s voice pulled me back. “Take whatever resources you need. Pull anyone from other projects. This is priority one.”
“Understood.” I stood, already mentally cataloging which team members had the necessary clearance and expertise.
Ty rose when I did, and suddenly, all six feet of him seemed to expand to fill the room. Too much proximity. Too much presence.
“I’m getting to work.” My voice came out clipped. “Try not to touch anything.”
His mouth curved like I’d given him an opening. “Back to thinking I’m going to break your toys?”
“Statistical probability based on observed behavior patterns,” I said, hugging my tablet like it might shield me.
“I haven’t broken anything yet.”
“The day is young.”
He fell into step beside me as we reached the elevator, easy stride keeping pace with my very not-easy stride. “You always this optimistic, or is that just for me?”
“This is me being professional.” I badged us through the door, hoping my flushed cheeks could pass for focus.
“If this is professional,” he said, leaning just enough that I could feel the heat of him, “I’d hate to see hostile.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” The elevator doors slid open, and I darted inside. “Hostile involves significantly more chemistry jokes and destructive testing protocols.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Chemistry jokes?”
“They’re only funny if you understand molecular bonds.”
His grin widened, unbothered by the warning I meant it to be. “We seem to be bonding just fine.”
The elevator suddenly felt ten degrees warmer. I fixed my gaze on the floor numbers, willing them to change. “That’s not what I… Molecular bonds are covalent or ionic interactions between atoms, not—”
“I thought our interactions so far have been pretty iconic.”
“Ionic,” I corrected automatically, heat crawling up my neck. “I said ionic.”
“Sure,” he said lightly. “But you can’t deny we’re already iconic.”
“No, ionic.” I sounded out the syllables more slowly, only to realize he was teasing me. Oh. I’d missed that. Big surprise. I cleared my throat. “Right now, I need to figure out how to build a countermeasure for technology that should never have existed outside a locked facility.”
“And I need to figure out how to make sure this building stays secure while you do it.” His tone softened at the edges, and when the doors opened, he moved first, scanning the hall before letting me pass. “Looks like we both have our work cut out for us.”
The lab stretched before us—sterile surfaces, the hum of equipment, my team already glancing up. Relief: something I could control.
“Everyone, conference room in five,” I called. My voice was steadier than my heartbeat.
As the team began to gather, Ty brushed my elbow. Barely a touch, but it set off a ridiculous spark under my skin. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the receptionist thing earlier. That was—”
“Water under the bridge.” I pulled away too quickly, the warmth of his touch clinging longer than it should. “Let’s just focus on our respective jobs. You keep us breathing, I’ll keep the world’s phones from exploding. No need for…unnecessary interaction.”
He gave me a mock salute. “All business, no small talk. Got it.”
“Exactly.”
I pivoted toward the conference room—and immediately caught my hip on the corner of a workstation, hard enough to rattle the equipment. Pain shot up my side. Perfect. Just perfect.
Of course he saw. Of course he was still watching, that half smile hovering like he’d been waiting for the punch line.
“Shut up,” I muttered, even though he hadn’t said anything.
His voice dropped, low and amused. “Didn’t say a word.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I was thinking a lot of things.”
I did not want to know what those things were. Could not afford to. I had a countermeasure to build and a global catastrophe to prevent. Ty Hughes was just another variable to work around.
But as I stepped into the glass-walled conference room, I caught his reflection in the pane—those damned eyes still on me. And the equation in my head refused to balance.