Chapter 25
TRENT
Three hours into our flight to Helsinki, and Evelyn hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t done anything except stare into the blackness beyond the window like she could will it to show her where Sophia was.
Behind us, Flynn slept with his mouth slightly open, head tilted at an angle guaranteed to give him neck pain when he woke up. Lyric sat beside him, her hand resting on his knee, her eyes closed, but her posture reading that she was wide awake.
Gage had passed out two rows back, his face turned toward the wall, one hand clenched even in sleep.
Alistair sat across from him, pale as death, his shirt still stained with blood despite Nolan’s field dressing. The bullet had taken a chunk out of him, but hadn’t hit anything vital. Still, he’d lost enough blood to make him look like a corpse.
Decker and Leo occupied the rear seats, both with their eyes closed but bodies tense. Rafe had his eyes shut too, but the tension in his jaw told me he was just resting, not sleeping.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and crossed the narrow aisle, dropping into the empty seat beside Evelyn. She didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge me, but her right hand found mine immediately. Her grip was tight enough to hurt, fingers digging into my palm.
Her knuckles were bone-white, tendons standing out along the back of her hand. She breathed too evenly, too deliberately, the kind of controlled rhythm that meant she was holding herself together through sheer force of will.
“She landed two hours ago,” Evelyn said, voice rough from disuse. Her eyes never left the window. “They’ve already taken her to the facility.”
I didn’t tell her it would be okay. We both knew better.
Instead, I turned her hand over in mine, studying the calluses forming on her palm. Small ones, new ones, from the training she’d insisted on during our prep. The faint scar across her knuckles was newer, from when she’d punched Langston.
“We’re going to get her back,” I said.
She made a small, harsh sound that might have been a laugh. Or a sob. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because failure isn’t an option I’m willing to accept.”
Now she did turn, her dark eyes meeting mine for the first time since we’d boarded. Red-rimmed but dry. She was past tears, past fear, into something harder and more focused.
“That’s not an answer,” she said. “That’s a bumper sticker.”
I kept hold of her hand, feeling the tension in her fingers gradually ease. “I’ve stormed better-fortified positions with worse intel and longer odds. This is just another mission. Just another objective.”
“Just another little girl being experimented on?”
“No,” I said quietly. “Not just another little girl. Sophia.”
Something in my voice must have reached her because she looked down at our clasped hands, then back to my face.
I pulled her closer, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. She resisted for a moment before leaning into me, her body still tense but no longer rigid.
The words sat heavy in my chest. I’d been carrying them since Montana, turning them over in my mind, trying to find the right way to say what couldn’t be said in any right way.
“There’s something you need to know,” I said. “Something I found in the files at the tower site.”
Her body went still against mine. “What?”
I felt her pulse jump beneath my thumb where it rested against her wrist. My throat tightened, but I pushed through it.
“The genetic material Innovixus used for Sophia’s conception. The paternal DNA.” I paused, the words fighting their way out. “It wasn’t Langston’s.”
She pulled back to look at me, confusion crossing her face. “What do you mean? I went through IVF. They said they were using his sperm.”
“They lied.” The anger in my voice leaked through despite my best efforts to stay calm. “They substituted genetic material from someone else. Someone they’d already experimented on.”
Her breathing changed, coming faster now. “Who?”
“Subject L-7.” I watched her face, saw no recognition there. “That was Gage’s designation when Innovixus had him. When they were cutting him open and rebuilding him into their weapon.”
The color drained from her face. Her hand went to her mouth.
“They took his DNA during his captivity,” I continued, each word feeling like broken glass. “Used it to create Sophia. She has his genetic modifications. The enhanced healing. The increased metabolism. All of it inherited naturally instead of forced.”
“No.” The word came out small, broken. “No, they couldn’t have.”
“They did.” I tightened my arm around her. “You’re her mother. Biologically, legally, in every way that matters. But Gage is her biological father. They made her to be proof their program works.”
She started shaking. Not crying, just trembling like something inside her had snapped. I pulled her closer, let her press her face against my chest.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered into my shirt. “I thought she was his. I thought I was carrying Langston’s child and I hated it but I loved her anyway and now...” She couldn’t finish.
“Now you know you were violated even more than you realized.” I kept my voice low, steady. “They didn’t just use you as an incubator for Langston’s kid. They turned your body into a lab. Used you to grow their next-generation prototype.”
Her fingers curled into my shirt, gripping tight. “Does Gage know?”
“I told him over comms in Montana. Right before we assaulted the facility.” The memory of his voice cracking over the radio hit me fresh. “He took it hard.”
“Hard how?”
“He went rogue. Nearly compromised the whole operation.” I smoothed my hand over her hair. “But he held it together long enough to help us win.”
Evelyn was quiet for a long moment, her breath warm against my chest. “Does Sophia know?”
“No. And she doesn’t need to. Not yet. Maybe not ever.” I tilted her chin up so she could see my face. “Listen to me. Biology doesn’t change anything. You’re still her mother. Gage is just the guy whose DNA they stole.”
“But he’s dying.” Her voice cracked. “You said he’s dying from what they did to him. From the modifications breaking down.”
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard. “Which means Sophia might...”
“Might have a time limit too.” She finished the thought I couldn’t say. “If she inherited his traits, she might have inherited his expiration date.”
The possibility had been eating at me since I’d read those files.
A five-year-old girl engineered to be a weapon, carrying genetic modifications that were already killing her biological father.
How long did she have? Ten years? Twenty?
Would she make it to adulthood before her body started tearing itself apart?
“We don’t know that,” I said, but the words felt hollow. “Gage’s modifications were forced. Brutal. They broke him down and rebuilt him without caring if it would last. Sophia’s are inherited. Maybe her body can handle them better.”
“Or maybe it can’t.” Evelyn’s eyes were dry now, but something in them looked broken. “Maybe we’re rescuing her just so we can watch her die slowly.”
“Stop.” I gripped her shoulders, made her look at me. “We’re rescuing her because she’s a scared little girl who needs her mother. Whatever comes after, we deal with it.”
She nodded, but I could see the fear settling into her bones. The knowledge that even if we got Sophia back, even if we destroyed Innovixus, there might be a timer counting down inside her daughter’s cells.
“Does he want to meet her?” Evelyn asked. “Gage. Does he want to be part of her life?”
I thought about the way Gage’s voice had sounded over the comms. The raw pain in it. The fury. “I don’t know.”
Evelyn leaned her head back against my shoulder. “When this is over, when we have her back, we tell her the truth. Age-appropriate, but the truth. She deserves to know what she is.”
“She’s a five-year-old girl who draws butterflies,” I said. “That’s what she is.”
“She’s also genetically engineered to be a weapon.” Evelyn’s voice went flat. “And pretending otherwise won’t protect her from what’s coming.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to say we could keep this from her, let her have a normal childhood. But Evelyn was right. Sophia needed to understand what she was capable of, what her body could do, before those abilities manifested in ways that could hurt her or someone else.
“One thing at a time,” I said. “First, we get her back. Then we figure out the rest.”
“One thing at a time,” she echoed, but her grip on my hand tightened again.
The plane engines droned on. Behind us, Flynn shifted in his sleep.
Gage’s breathing stayed deep and even, exhaustion finally dragging him under.
Alistair’s head had tipped forward, his pale face slack.
Ethan sat in the front row now, tablet in his lap, reviewing the facility blueprints we’d pulled from Kate’s intel package.
“Trent?” Evelyn’s voice was small now.
“Yeah?”
“If she only has a few years, I need them to be good ones.” She looked up at me, and the naked fear in her eyes nearly broke me. “I need her to know she is loved. That she matters. That she is more than what they made her to be.”
“She’ll know.” I kissed her forehead. “Because we’re going to make sure of it.”
Evelyn nodded and closed her eyes. Her breathing didn’t deepen into sleep, but her body relaxed slightly against mine. Taking what rest she could before we hit the ground running.
I held her and stared out the window at the darkness. Somewhere below, Sophia waited. Scared, confused, but alive. Still breathing. Still drawing butterflies in her mind, maybe, to keep the fear away.
Hold on, Sophia. We’re coming.
And when I found the people who’d created her without consent, who’d stolen DNA from two victims and combined it into a child they saw as property, I was going to make them regret ever hearing the names Evelyn Winslow and Gage Banks.
Ethan stood and moved down the aisle toward us. His face was set in hard lines, exhaustion etched deeply around his eyes.
“Got the facility layout memorized,” he said quietly, keeping his voice low. “Server room is in the basement level, northwest corner. If they’re keeping Sophia there, that’s where the surveillance feeds will be.”
Evelyn straightened, her hand still gripping mine. “Can we access it remotely?”
“Not from here. Too much encryption. We’ll need physical access.” His expression shifted, something harder sliding into place. “There’s another problem. Facility’s under lockdown protocol. They’re expecting us.”
My jaw tightened. “How many?”
“Security roster shows forty guards on site. Former military, most of them. And they’ve got automated defense systems. Motion sensors, pressure plates, the works.” He tapped his tablet. “Getting in is going to be ugly.”
“Getting out will be worse,” Rafe said from behind us. He was awake now, leaning forward in his seat. “They won’t let us walk out the front door with her.”
“Then we make our own door,” I said.
Ethan’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Already planning on it. Found a maintenance tunnel that runs from the loading dock to the basement level. Built during construction, never properly sealed. If we can breach the outer wall, we’re in.”
“And if we can’t?” Evelyn asked.
“Then we go loud.” I met her eyes. “But we’re getting Sophia out. Whatever it takes.”
Flynn stirred, blinking awake. “Are we there yet?”
“Three more hours,” Rafe said.
Flynn groaned and rubbed his neck.
Lyric poked his side. “Told ya you’d regret sleeping like that.”
The moment of levity broke some of the tension, but not much. We all knew what waited at the end of this flight. A fortified facility, armed guards, and a little girl who had no idea her mother was coming.
“Get some rest,” I told Evelyn. “All of you. Last chance before things get real.”
Ethan returned to his seat. Flynn adjusted his position and closed his eyes again. Rafe settled back, his breathing evening out. Decker and Leo stayed motionless in the rear, still faking sleep or actually getting it.
Evelyn stayed pressed against my side, her hand still locked with mine.
“Trent?” she whispered.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For telling me. About Gage.” She paused. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“Nothing about this is easy.” I tightened my arm around her. “But you deserved to know.”
She nodded against my shoulder. “When we get her back, when this is over, I want to talk to him. Gage. I want to thank him for helping us. For keeping her safe.”
“He’d like that.”
We sat in silence as the plane carried us through the darkness toward Helsinki. Toward Sophia. Toward whatever hell Innovixus had prepared.
But they’d made one critical mistake. They’d taken the daughter of a woman who’d survived a cult and an abusive marriage.
They’d taken the child of a man who’d been tortured and rebuilt and had escaped their program once already.
They’d taken a little girl who had an entire team of operators willing to burn the world down to get her back.
Innovixus thought they were ready for us.
They had no idea what was coming.