Chapter Thirteen Jace #2
"Jinx messaged me while I was in the air. Abernathy visited Elliot," I say. "Told him he couldn't stop Webb directly, but he wouldn't stand in my way."
"That's more than neutral." Briar's eyes sharpen. "That's tacit support. If we can get him to move openly—"
"He won't. Not without proof that Webb has violated Custodian mandate."
"Then we get him proof."
Landon contributes too, surprising me. He's spent months analyzing the financial architecture of The Silent's legitimate fronts. Shell companies, money flows, connections to politicians and business leaders who think they're dealing with a philanthropic organization.
"Webb's been running side operations," Landon says, pulling up spreadsheets on his laptop.
The screen glows blue in the dim room. "Money moving through channels that don't connect to an authorized Ministry account.
I thought it was standard corruption, skimming off the top.
But if he's using those funds for unsanctioned operations. .."
"It's proof of independent action," Briar finishes. "Something the Custodians can't ignore."
I watch Landon work, the way his fingers fly across the keyboard, the intensity in his eyes as he traces patterns I can barely follow. He's not what I expected. Not soft, despite appearances. Not weak. Just different. A different kind of weapon.
"You're good at this," I say.
He looks up, surprised. "Thanks. I think."
"It's not a compliment. It's an observation. The Silent could have used you."
"They tried." His mouth twists. "That's why I'm here instead of in a Ministry basement being 'repurposed.'"
Briar's hand finds his under the table. Landon's shoulders relax by a fraction.
I file the interaction. The small gestures. The automatic comfort. The way two people learn to orbit each other when they've chosen to stay.
It looks like what I have with Elliot. Or what I'm trying to have. What I'm fighting to keep.
"The facility," I say, bringing us back to the immediate problem. "I need its exact location. Webb was careful not to give me anything I could use."
"I can get that." Briar pulls out his phone, sends a message. "I have someone in Design who owes me. She'll know where Webb keeps his toys."
"Toys." The word tastes bitter. "He's being tortured. Not physically. I made sure of that. But I know he's using neural extraction to force Elliot to relive his worst memories. Over and over." It’s something I only thought of after it was too late.
That’s why he accepted my terms so easily.
He could still hurt Elliot.
Landon makes a sound, small and pained. "That's..."
"Barbaric," Briar finishes. "But effective. Webb perfected the technique during the early years. He believes trauma can be mapped, quantified, used to predict and control behavior."
"He's trying to understand why I malfunctioned." I hear my own voice go flat. "He thinks if he can identify what made me attach to Elliot, he can prevent it from happening to other assets."
"Can he?"
"I don't know." The admission costs me something. "I don't understand it myself. He asked me once why Elliot. Why this broken, damaged, worthless asset out of all the people I've encountered in fifteen years."
"What did you tell him?"
"Nothing. Because I don't have an answer.
" I stare at the fire, watching the flames consume wood and oxygen and time.
"All I know is that when I look at him, something in me recognizes something in him.
Like we're made of the same material. Like we were both built to be a somebody, and somehow we found each other in the wreckage. "
The room is silent. I realize I've said too much. Revealed too much. The words came out without permission, bypassing every filter the Foundry installed.
Briar is watching me with an expression I can't read.
"That's not malfunction," he says finally. "That's humanity. The part of you they thought they'd erased."
"Humanity is a liability."
"Humanity is the point." He leans forward, intense.
"Why do you think The Silent exists? Not to protect the Custodians.
Not to maintain order. It exists because centuries ago, a group of families decided they could build a better world by controlling information, controlling resources, controlling people.
But somewhere along the way, they forgot why.
They forgot that power is only meaningful if it serves something larger than itself. "
"You sound like a revolutionary."
"I am a revolutionary." He smiles, and it's the first genuine expression I've seen from him. "I just happen to be wearing a Custodian's face."
Together, we build a plan.
Step one: extract Elliot. Not with force, but with leverage. Briar has contacts in Ministry of Design who can get us the location of the facility. Landon can trace the comm signals from Webb's operation, give us a window when security is lightest.
Step two: expose Webb. Not to the authorities. They're compromised. To the Custodians themselves. Show them that Webb has been running unsanctioned operations, exceeding his mandate, treating his position as a personal fiefdom rather than a service to the collective.
Step three: offer an alternative. Not destruction of The Silent, but reform. An end to the conditioning protocols. An end to the asset system. A transition to something that still provides the power and protection the Custodians crave, but without the human cost.
"The hardest part will be the extraction," I say. "Webb won't leave Elliot unguarded. And the collar..."
"The collar is controlled remotely." Landon pulls up a schematic on his laptop. "I've seen the specs. There's a frequency band it operates on. If we can jam it—"
"Jam it how?"
"EMP burst, localized. It would fry the electronics without killing the wearer." He hesitates. "Probably."
"Probably isn't good enough."
"Then we need to get the control device. The one Webb uses to activate the collar." Briar taps his fingers on the table. "If we have that, we can deactivate it safely before extraction."
"Webb keeps it on him. Always."
"Then we take it from him."
I look at Briar. "You're talking about confronting a Director of Erasure in his own facility, surrounded by his own people, and taking something off his person."
"I'm talking about giving him what he wants. Or making him think we are." Briar's smile turns sharp. "He sent you to kill me. What if you showed up with my body?"
"You want to fake your death."
"I want to get close enough to Webb to put a knife in his hand. Or at least close enough to take what we need." He glances at Landon. "I've something similiar before. With Landon. He was supposed to be eliminated. Instead, I brought him home."
Landon snorts. "That's one way to describe kidnapping me at a charity gala."
"You came willingly."
"I came because you're very persuasive and I have poor survival instincts."
"You came because you saw something in me worth taking a chance on." Briar's voice softens. "The same thing Jace sees in Elliot. The same thing that makes all of this worth the risk."
They look at each other. It passes between them as something I can't interpret, but I recognize its shape. I've felt it myself, in the dark hours before dawn, holding Elliot's hand while he slept.
"It's ambitious," I say. "It's dangerous. It will probably get us all killed."
"But it's a chance," Briar finishes. "And right now, a chance is all any of us have."
"There's one more thing," I say as we finalize the details. "The file Elliot mentioned. The one in Moore's archive. The one with my family's name on it."
Briar's expression shifts. "Protocol Omega."
"You know about it?"
"I know it exists. I know it's buried deep, classified above my clearance level.
I know that people who ask questions about it tend to disappear.
" He pauses. "I also know that it's the real reason the Custodians want me dead.
Not because of Landon. Because I've been digging. Well and also because of Landon."
"What is it?"
"I don't know yet. But I know where to find out." He looks at me, and for the first time, I see something in his eyes that might be hope. "Help me get to Moore's archive after we deal with Webb. And I'll help you get your boy back."
"Deal."
We shake on it.
Landon stands, stretches, and moves toward the kitchen. "I'm finishing the risotto. We should eat before you go sleep. Can't overthrow a shadow government on an empty stomach."
"He always cooks when he's nervous," Briar explains.
"I cook because I like cooking. The nervous energy is a bonus." Landon's voice carries from the kitchen, accompanied by the clatter of pots. "Also, you're both terrifying and I need to do something with my hands that isn't panicking."
I almost smile. Almost.
"He's good for you," I say.
Briar nods. "He's the reason I'm willing to risk everything. Before him, I was... functional. Competent. Loyal to the family, loyal to the system, loyal to everything I was trained to serve." He pauses. "And completely empty."
"I know the feeling."
"I thought you might." He stands, moves to the window, looks out at the mountains.
"Webb thinks attachment is a flaw. A weakness to be exploited and eliminated.
But he's wrong. It's the only thing that makes any of this matter.
The only thing that makes us more than weapons. Or at the least… better ones."
My chest tightens.
"He's strong," I say. "Stronger than he knows. Webb is trying to break him, but he's built a wall around what we have. He's protecting it."
"Then we get him out before Webb finds a way through." Briar turns back to face me. "Forty-eight hours. Can you be ready?"
"I've been ready for fifteen years. I just didn't know what I was waiting for."