Chapter Eleven #2
It was like having an extra sense—one that let me see beyond passwords and firewalls to the beating heart of the system itself.
"Come on, come on," I whispered, searching for something, anything I could use.
The system was sophisticated—military grade in some aspects. Nicolai hadn't been exaggerating when he said he was prepared for everything. Building schematics, personnel files, security protocols, backup plans for every conceivable scenario. A lifetime of paranoia documented in meticulous detail.
But I couldn't find the controls for the actual building systems. Not through the conventional interface.
On the monitor, Yuri took a slash across his arm, the knife falling from his grip. He ducked behind one of the massive kitchen islands, buying himself seconds at most.
I slammed my palm against the side of the terminal in frustration. "Where are they? Where are the damn controls?"
And then I realized—I was thinking too much like a hacker and not enough like someone with my specific abilities. I didn't need to find the right menu or command. I could reach into the system directly.
I closed my eyes and spread my fingers across the terminal, extending my consciousness into the building's electronic infrastructure. It was like diving into a rushing river—currents of data and electricity flowing all around me. Overwhelming at first, threatening to sweep me away.
I'd never attempted to control a system this complex before. My usual tricks were small—disabling a security camera, overriding an electronic lock, manipulating an ATM. This was different. This was an entire building with dozens of interconnected systems.
For a terrifying moment, I lost myself in the flood of information. Alarm systems, climate controls, electrical grid connections, backup generators, security doors, fire suppression systems—all of it washing over me in a dizzying wave.
I gasped, pulling back slightly, focusing on just one system at a time. The sprinklers first. I visualized them as a network of pipes and sensors running throughout the building, concentrated my abilities there.
Yes. I could feel them now, the pressure in the pipes, the electrical signals from the control valves.
I opened my eyes, glancing at the kitchen feed. Yuri had managed to arm himself with a frying pan, but he was bleeding from multiple wounds now. One of the men had circled behind him while the others kept him distracted.
Without thinking twice, I activated the sprinkler system—not throughout the building, but specifically in the kitchen section. Water rained down from the ceiling in a sudden deluge, startling Yuri's attackers.
The distraction lasted only seconds, but it was enough. Yuri seized the moment, swinging the heavy pan with unexpected speed, connecting solidly with one attacker's temple. The man dropped like a stone.
I almost smirked. Guess that surprised them.
Encouraged, I dove deeper into the system, seeking out the security doors next. Each floor had emergency lockdown protocols—heavy metal barriers that could seal off sections of the building in case of a breach.
I triggered them selectively, slamming shut doors throughout the second floor where most of O'Rourke's men were still searching.
The security feed showed their confusion as they found themselves trapped in various rooms, separated from each other. Denton's voice crackled over their radios, demanding reports, his frustration evident even without audio.
Back in the kitchen, Yuri was still outnumbered. The remaining two attackers had recovered from their surprise and were advancing again, more cautious now but no less determined.
I needed to give him more of an edge.
I located the electrical subsystems next, focusing on the lighting circuits.
With careful precision, I began manipulating the kitchen lights—not just turning them on and off, but creating a disorienting strobe effect.
Bright flashes followed by seconds of darkness, the pattern unpredictable and jarring.
On the monitor, I saw the fake officers shielding their eyes, their movements becoming hesitant and uncoordinated in the fluctuating light. Yuri, despite his injuries, seemed to anticipate the pattern somehow, striking during the moments of darkness and retreating when the lights flashed.
Had he realized someone was helping him?
Or was he just that good at adapting? Either way, it was working.
He caught one attacker with a brutal upward strike under the chin.
The man staggered backward, slipping on the wet floor and crashing into a rack of pots that came down on top of him with a deafening clatter.
One on one now. Better odds, but Yuri was wounded and tiring. I could see it in the way he braced himself against the counter, in the heaviness of his breathing.
I scanned the kitchen feed for anything else I could use to his advantage. The industrial stove caught my eye—gas burners controlled by electronic ignition. A dangerous option, but these men had come prepared to kidnap and kill. They'd shown no mercy to Nicolai or his people.
Why should I show mercy to them?
I activated the gas flow to the burners without triggering the ignition—just enough to create a threatening hiss that caught the attention of Yuri and his remaining opponent.
Both men glanced toward the sound, but only Yuri seemed to understand what it meant. He immediately backed away from that section of the kitchen, pulling a dish towel from a rack and covering his nose and mouth.
The last attacker, confused by the hissing and the flashing lights, made the mistake of moving closer to investigate the stove.
I held my breath, finger hovering over the key that would trigger the ignition. Could I really do this? Deliberately hurt someone, maybe kill them?
But then I thought of Nicolai being dragged away unconscious. Of his men beaten and bound. Of what O'Rourke would do to all of them—to me—if he got what he wanted.
I pressed the key.
The spark was small, but in the gas-rich environment near the stove, it was enough. A whoosh of flame erupted, not a massive explosion but a controlled burst that sent the attacker reeling backward, his fake uniform sleeve on fire. He screamed, batting at the flames in panic.
Yuri didn't hesitate. He grabbed a heavy cast iron skillet and swung it with all his remaining strength. The man crumpled to the floor, motionless.
I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, watching as Yuri extinguished the small fire with a nearby fire extinguisher. He was scanning the kitchen now, his eyes darting from the sprinklers to the lights to the stove.
"You're welcome," I whispered, though of course he couldn't hear me.
After ensuring his attackers were truly incapacitated, Yuri staggered to a sink and splashed water on his face, washing away some of the blood. Then he looked directly at the security camera in the corner of the room and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
He knew someone was helping. He knew it had to be me.
I turned my attention back to the other monitors. Denton was in Nicolai's office now, tearing apart bookshelves, looking for hidden compartments or safes.
Two of his men were still trapped by the security doors on the upper floor, while others were regrouping in the main dining area, clearly rattled by the building seemingly coming alive around them.
They didn't understand what they were dealing with. They thought they were hunting a scared teenager with a useful talent. They had no idea what I was truly capable of when backed into a corner.
And I was just getting started.
My head pounded as I maintained connections to multiple building systems simultaneously. A thin trickle of blood ran from my nose, but I barely noticed it.
On the main monitor array, I watched Denton coordinating his remaining men, their faces tense with confusion and growing fear.
Good.
They should be afraid.
All my life I'd used my abilities to hide, to escape, to erase any trace of my existence, but now, for the first time, I was using them to fight back.
Not just for myself—for Nicolai.
I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand, leaving a crimson streak across my skin.
My temples throbbed in rhythm with my racing heart.
I'd never pushed my abilities this far before—controlling multiple systems across an entire building was like trying to conduct several orchestras at once while playing every instrument myself.
But I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Not while Nicolai was in O'Rourke's hands.
The realization hit me with startling clarity. I was fighting for Nicolai. Not because he was my protector or because I needed him to survive, but because the thought of him being hurt made something twist painfully inside me.
When had that happened? When had this man become so important to me that I'd risk everything to save him?
I didn't have time to examine the feeling. On the monitors, Denton was barking orders at his remaining men. They'd regrouped in the main dining area, weapons drawn, backs to each other in a defensive circle.
Seven of them left, including Denton. Several were sporting injuries from their encounters with locked doors, falling objects, and malfunctioning equipment that I'd orchestrated over the past twenty minutes.
"You want to play games?" I heard Denton snarl, his voice barely audible through the monitor's speakers. "Fine. Cut the power to the whole damn building. Flush the little freak out."
I almost laughed at the irony. He thought cutting the power would leave me vulnerable, when in reality, electricity was my element, my weapon.
Still, his idea gave me one of my own.
I let my consciousness sink deeper into the building's electrical grid, feeling for the main power supply and the backup generators. Most of the lighting and essential systems were still functioning, giving O'Rourke's men visibility and advantage.
What if I took that away?