Chapter 13 #2
A pause in sound. A subtle wrongness in the air that didn’t belong to the steady rhythm of the platform. He turned slowly and watched as a man eased out of the shadows near a junction bulkhead.
The guy moved well. Not cautious enough to be afraid, but careful enough to stay unnoticed. Someone who had learned when to disappear and when to step forward.
Reece waited until the man was close enough that neither of them would have to raise their voices.
“You wanted to meet?” Reece asked.
“Are you friend or foe?” the man replied.
Dex Franks stood angled, weight balanced, eyes constantly shifting. He wasn’t aggressive, but he was ready. Reece recognized the posture. The kind that came from too many situations where hesitation got people hurt.
Reece glanced around the platform, then back at him. “I guess that question works both ways.”
Dex shook his head once. “I gave you that note. I’ve got skin in this game, man. If you’re here to burn me, I’m not going quietly.”
Reece frowned. “Burn you for what?”
“Answer the question,” Dex said. “Friend or foe.”
Reece studied him for a long second. Not his words. His instincts. “Guardian,” Reece said quietly.
The reaction was immediate. Dex’s shoulders dropped, relief cutting through his tension so sharply it was impossible to miss.
“Oh, thank God,” Dex muttered. “Okay. Okay.” He dragged a hand over his face. “Are you alone?”
“Talk,” Reece said. “You’ve got my attention.”
Dex took a breath. “I hired on seven months ago. Former Delta. Structure security only. Cameras, access points, patrol routes. I don’t touch intel, and I don’t want to, I had enough of that CIA shit when I was in the military.”
“That’s why you noticed something,” Reece said.
Dex nodded. “Exactly. At first, everything was tight. Clean. But then little things started to feel off. Not broken. Just … wrong.”
“Give me examples,” Reece said.
“Camera coverage first,” Dex said immediately. “Not outages, but there were shifts. Angles changed without documentation. Feeds rerouted during certain time blocks, then put back exactly where they were.”
“That shouldn’t happen without a request,” Reece said.
“It didn’t have one,” Dex replied. “We checked. No work orders. No maintenance flags. Just changes.”
Reece’s focus sharpened.
“Access logs started showing the same thing,” Dex continued. “Door authorizations appearing where they shouldn’t. Executive-level clearances briefly touching systems they never physically approached. Not enough to trigger alerts.”
“Just enough to pull data. That had to be before they installed the gates in Maggie’s programs, which means whoever’s the engineer of all of this shit is sloppy. Good for us, bad for whoever the asshole is,” Max said in his ear.
“What else?” Reece asked.
Dex hesitated. “Badge movement. Patrol timing. Who was where and when. Who lingered. Who didn’t. It was like … this sounds crazy, but they’re watching us, and we’re supposed to be protecting them.”
Reece felt a slow burn behind his ribs.
“That’s not structure security,” Dex said. “That’s personnel mapping.”
“Yes,” Reece agreed quietly.
“And it wasn’t just us,” Dex added. “Systems personnel noticed their dashboards lagging. Requests queued for review that had already been accessed. Logs showing queries run under their credentials that they never executed. We’ve told them to watch and say nothing to anyone.
We meet with them occasionally when they have something significant they need to tell us about.
Those kids are scared shitless, but they’re hanging in.
If one of them breaks, we’re all screwed. ”
“Someone using their access to scrape,” Reece said.
Dex nodded. “And covering it well.”
“Yeah, Darkwater hired damn good employees,” Max added.
Reece shifted his stance slightly, checking the area again.
Dex cleared his throat. “Then Ron Slater started asking questions.”
Reece didn’t recognize the name, and he didn’t pretend to. “Who?”
“Another former spec ops guy,” Dex said. “Security like me. Ron noticed the same inconsistencies. He pushed. Asked why structural security data was being mirrored to executive systems.”
“And,” Reece prompted.
“We never found out the answer. They said he was terminated for cause,” Dex replied. “Flown off the platform that night.” Dex’s mouth tightened. “But the departure logs were forged. There was no scheduled transport. I was on duty that night. There was no fucking bird, man.”
Reece kept his expression neutral. “And you think that means …”
“I know he didn’t leave the way they said he did,” Dex finished. “And I know asking about it will get someone else killed.”
Silence settled between them.
“Why come to me?” Reece asked.
Dex met his eyes. “Because you don’t move like a contractor. Because you notice everything, not just people. And because you’re asking the same questions without looking like you’re asking them.”
Reece considered that for a moment before asking, “What do you want?”
“Answers,” Dex said. “And to know if this place is still what it claims to be. If it isn’t, I want a part of taking it down.”
Reece didn’t sugarcoat it. “It isn’t.”
Dex exhaled slowly. “I fucking knew it.”
“You did the right thing bringing this forward,” Reece said. “But you need to be careful.”
“I am,” Dex said. “We talk in dead zones. We compare notes verbally. No devices.”
“Keep doing that,” Reece said. “Don’t escalate. Don’t confront. And don’t change your routine.”
Dex studied him. “You’re already inside this.”
Reece didn’t answer.
“We’ve got about five minutes before someone notices we’re lingering,” Dex said, glancing at his watch.
“Then listen,” Reece said. “If you notice access touching security systems that don’t belong, if logs don’t match movement, if anything gets quietly rewritten, you document it. And you bump into me. Literally, that will be our signal to meet here again.”
Dex nodded once. “And if they notice me noticing?”
“They won’t,” Reece said calmly. “You’ve been careful so far.”
“Not careful enough. I’ve got a folder the size of a dictionary.”
“But you learned, and they think you’ve stopped asking.”
“So far,” Dex agreed. He held Reece’s gaze for a long moment, then stepped back. “Ron was killed by these bastards. That makes whatever the fuck they are doing personal. I want in on taking them down,” he said quietly.
“I’ll do my best to make that happen,” Reece agreed.
Dex disappeared back into the steel and shadow of the platform.
Reece stayed where he was for a moment longer, listening to the hum of systems layered over the sound of the sea. He turned on his flashlight and continued his survey, moving back into camera view just as casually as he exited it.
He didn’t alter his actions, change his habits, or act differently. For the rest of the day, he reviewed camera placement in the residential corridors. He sat in on a briefing about emergency evacuation procedures.
All of it useful. All of it boring. All of it a countdown to his call with Maggie.
At 1815, he returned to his quarters and changed into workout clothes. At 1845, he headed to the gym.
Maggie wasn't there yet. He went through his warm-up routine, stretching muscles that were already tight from restless energy. The gym filled gradually with the usual crowd. Analysts on cardio equipment. Engineers lifting weights. Security making their rounds.
At 1855, she walked through the door. Same black leggings. Same faded Nebraska t-shirt. Same ponytail with strands escaping. She moved to the treadmills without looking at him.
Reece grabbed the pull-up bar and began his set, counting reps while watching her reflection in the mirrored wall. He went through his full routine. Pull-ups. Bench press. Squats. Row machine. Focused work that looked like every other workout he'd done since arriving on the platform.
Maggie ran on the treadmill, her pace steady and controlled. She moved to free weights, working through a circuit that kept her in the gym without drawing attention.
At 1920, Max's voice came through the comm.
"Five minutes, Ranger. Time to wrap it up naturally."
Reece tapped his earpiece once as he wiped the sweat from his neck.
After he finished his last set, he wiped down the equipment with deliberate care, then grabbed his gym bag. Across the room, Maggie was doing the same, her movements unhurried.
They left separately. Reece first, then Maggie three minutes later.
He walked the corridors at his usual pace. Unhurried. Unremarkable. A quick stop at the water fountain. A nod to a passing analyst.
Inside his room, he closed the door and checked the time.
Three minutes.
He stripped off his workout shirt, grabbed a clean t-shirt from the closet, and pulled it on before sitting at the desk. He played the game and opened his tablet to a random report.
His phone sat beside it, dark and silent.
Reece picked it up, feeling the weight of it in his palm, and waited.
At exactly 1930, it rang.
He answered on the second ring.
"Maggie."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. Then her voice, quieter than he remembered but unmistakably hers.
"Reece?"
"Yeah. It's me."
Silence stretched between them, loaded with everything they couldn't say in the gym. Everything they'd held back for days.
"How—" she started.
"Guardian," he said simply. "They're routing your call. We have about three minutes. Maybe less."
"Three minutes," she repeated, and he heard the frustration in her voice. The same frustration he felt.
"It's not enough," he said. "But it's what we have."
She exhaled slowly. "I saw you. In the gym."
"I know." He chuckled. “I saw you, too.”
"Yeah, okay, that was stupid. I’m working on finding everything I can in the systems. I’m finding access not only to my programs but also to almost all of the information-gathering programs. Your computer guy runs my normal work while I do the work.
He copies it as I’m finding it, so the evidence is stored outside the facility. ”
“That’s good. How are you doing?”
“I’m mad. I was scared, but I’m mad now. The people I’ve worked with have been duped into thinking what we’re doing is legitimate and useful. What’s actually happening is criminal.”
“It’s not just your systems. Security’s systems are being tampered with, and Maggie, things have taken a dangerous turn. We believe someone may have been murdered while here on the platform.”
“What? Who?”
“A security specialist who was demanding answers. I didn’t tell you that to scare you, but to make you more cautious in your interactions with anyone.”
“Oh, believe me, I’m guarded, and nothing goes below surface level. I gave Adrian his systems check today. It showed zero deficiencies and only one minor problem. If I didn’t report it, they’d know. But it was fixable and not related to the gates.”
There was a pause. He could hear her breathing, steady and controlled, and the faint hum of her quarters' ventilation system in the background.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.
"I'm fine. Are you?"
"I'm …" She hesitated. "Did I tell you that someone searched my quarters while I was gone. They were careful, but not careful enough."
Reece's jaw tightened. "We expected that."
"I know. But knowing it and experiencing it are different things."
"Yeah," he said. "They are."
"Reece." Her voice dropped lower. "I miss you."
The words hit him square in the chest. Simple. Honest. Devastating in their simplicity.
"I miss you, too," he said, his voice rougher than he intended. "Every damn minute."
"This is harder than I thought it would be," Maggie admitted. "Seeing you and not being able to talk to you. Not being able to touch you."
God, he wanted to touch her. Wanted it with an intensity that was completely inappropriate for their situation. Wanted to pull her close, feel her warmth against him, remind himself that she was real and safe and right there on the same platform, even if she felt a thousand miles away.
"I know," he said. "I want to touch you, too. Want it so much it's distracting."
She made a soft sound that might have been a laugh or a sigh. "We're supposed to be professionals."
"We are professionals," Reece said. "Doesn't mean I don't want to kiss you until neither of us can think straight."
"Reece—"
"I know," he said again. "Not now. Not here. But when this is over—"
"When this is over," she echoed.
"One minute left," Max's voice cut in quietly. "Wrap it up."
Reece's grip tightened on the phone. "Maggie, listen. Keep doing what you're doing. Guardian's watching from the outside, but we need your eyes on the inside. Can you do that?"
"Yes."
"If anything feels wrong—"
"I'll be careful," she promised.
"Not just careful," Reece pressed. "Smart. If you need me, you know how to reach me now."
"Every night at seven thirty."
"Every night," he confirmed.
Silence fell between them again. Not awkward. Just weighted with everything they wanted to say and couldn't fit into the time they had.
"I should go," Maggie said finally.
"Yeah."
"Reece?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For being here."
His throat tightened. "There's nowhere else I'd be."
"I have to go," Maggie said quickly. "Talk tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Reece confirmed. "Same time."
"Okay. Be safe."
"You, too."
Then the line went dead.
Reece stood there for a long moment, phone still pressed to his ear, listening to the silence where her voice had been. Three minutes. It wasn't enough. But it was a start.
And tomorrow night, they'd have three more.
He set the phone down on the desk, and as he exhaled slowly, he felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. She was okay. She missed him. And she was exactly as sharp and careful as he'd known she would be.
Darkwater thought it had them contained.
It was wrong.
Because Maggie Brooks wasn't just smart.
She was relentless.
And between her, Max, and him, they would tear this place apart from the inside out.
Starting with three-minute phone calls at seven thirty every night.
And ending with the truth that Darkwater had worked so hard to bury.
Reece smiled faintly in the darkness of his quarters.
Tomorrow night couldn't come fast enough.