Chapter Eleven #3
Not by cutting the power completely—I needed the security systems and cameras to remain functional. But what if I redirected it? Created a controlled blackout of my own design?
I closed my eyes, visualizing the building's electrical network like a glowing web. With careful precision, I began isolating circuits, redirecting power away from lighting systems throughout the building while maintaining energy flow to the security systems and my control terminal.
The strain was immediate and intense. A spike of pain shot through my skull, bringing tears to my eyes. My hands trembled against the keyboard, fingertips tingling with electrical feedback. I'd never attempted anything this complex before.
"Come on," I hissed through gritted teeth, pushing harder.
On the monitors, I watched as confusion spread across Denton's face when the lights began to dim, not because of his orders but despite them. The main dining area grew darker, shadows deepening in corners, until only emergency exit signs cast a faint red glow.
"What the hell?" Denton barked. "I didn't say cut it yet!"
His men exchanged nervous glances, fingers tightening on their weapons.
I wasn't done. Next, I isolated the backup generators, manipulating their startup protocols. When the main power dropped below a certain threshold, they should have kicked in automatically. I overrode that function, keeping them in standby mode.
The pain in my head intensified, like someone driving an ice pick behind my eyes. Blood now flowed freely from both nostrils, dripping onto the keyboard. I swiped at it absently, leaving smears across the controls.
I had to keep going.
With a final surge of concentration, I cut power to all lighting systems except for my security feeds. The building plunged into complete darkness, the monitors in front of me now the only source of illumination in the panic room.
Through the infrared security cameras, I watched O'Rourke's men fumbling in the sudden blackness. Several activated flashlights, the beams cutting through the darkness in thin, predictable paths that only served to make them more visible targets.
"It's him!" Denton shouted, his voice tight with anger. "The kid's playing with the systems. Spread out! Find the control room!"
They had no idea I was watching their every move, tracking them as they separated and began searching blindly. Their flashlight beams swept across walls and floors, creating more shadows than illumination.
I initiated the final stage of my plan—full building lockdown. Unlike my earlier targeted approach, this was comprehensive. Every security door, every access point, every possible entrance or exit—sealed. The building transformed into an impenetrable fortress... with O'Rourke's men trapped inside.
The few remaining electronic locks throughout the building engaged simultaneously, the sound of deadbolts sliding into place echoing through the darkness. On the monitors, I watched Denton spin around, his flashlight beam darting frantically as metallic thuds reverberated through the restaurant.
"What was that?" one of his men called out, voice cracking with fear.
"We're being locked in," another replied, already running toward the main entrance.
I watched him tug frantically at the door, which remained firmly sealed. He pounded against it, the sound hollow and futile.
Meanwhile, I spotted Yuri on another feed. He had recovered enough to move through the kitchen, arming himself with more substantial weapons than cookware. I watched as he secured a proper knife and what looked like a meat tenderizer—crude but effective in the right hands.
He was moving with purpose now, stalking through the darkened building like the predator he was.
I needed to coordinate with him somehow.
I focused on the kitchen display screen where nutritional information and orders would normally appear. With careful concentration, I sent a message:
Yuri—Mishka here. 7 hostiles remaining, Building secure. Denton in main dining room.
I watched Yuri freeze as the screen lit up with my message, his eyes narrowing as he read it. He looked directly at the nearest camera and gave a curt nod before raising his hand with four fingers extended.
Four? What did he mean by four?
Then I understood. He was telling me he could handle four of them. That meant I needed to deal with the remaining three, including Denton.
But how? I couldn't leave the panic room—not without exposing myself to capture. And while I could control the building's systems, I couldn't physically stop armed men.
Or could I?
I scanned the security feeds, looking for advantages. On the second floor, two of O'Rourke's men were trying to force open a security door with a crowbar they'd found. On the third floor, another was methodically checking rooms, his flashlight beam sweeping across Nicolai's personal quarters.
And in the main dining room, Denton stood with his back to the bar, radioing furiously for updates from his scattered team.
I focused on the man with the crowbar first. The security door he was trying to breach was connected to the fire suppression system. With a thought, I activated the chemical fire extinguishers in that corridor—not water, but a high-pressure foam designed to smother flames.
It exploded from ceiling nozzles with enough force to knock both men off their feet, blinding and disorienting them in a sea of expanding chemical foam.
For the man on the third floor, I took a different approach. I activated the heating system in that section to its maximum output. Within minutes, the temperature would become unbearable, forcing him to either retreat or be overcome by the heat.
That left Denton. For him, I had something special in mind.
The main dining room featured a state-of-the-art sound system, normally used to play soft classical music during dinner service.
I accessed it now, gradually increasing the volume until it suddenly blasted at maximum levels—a piercing, disorienting wall of static and feedback that would make it impossible for him to hear anything else or communicate with his team.
The pain in my head had become almost unbearable now, my vision blurring around the edges as I maintained control over so many systems simultaneously.
I could feel blood not just from my nose but trickling from my ears as well. I was pushing my abilities further than I ever had, and my body was letting me know the cost.
But the thought of Nicolai—of what O'Rourke would do to him—kept me going. I couldn't fail, not now, not when I was finally fighting back instead of running.
On the monitors, I watched my plan unfold. Yuri moved with supernatural stealth through the darkened building, disabling O'Rourke's men one by one. My environmental attacks disoriented and separated the others, making them easy targets.
And through it all, one thought burned in my mind with crystal clarity. This was just the beginning. Once we secured the building, once Denton was captured, we would make him tell us where they'd taken Nicolai. And then I would go after him—after them all.
I had spent months of my life running from O'Rourke, terrified of what he would do if he caught me, but I wasn't running anymore.
"I'm coming for you, Nicolai," I whispered to the empty room, blood dripping from my chin onto my shirt. "Just hold on."
For the first time since I discovered my abilities, I embraced them fully, without fear or reservation. Not as a curse that had forced me into hiding, but as the weapon they truly were. O'Rourke had hunted me because of what I could do.
Now he would learn exactly what that meant.