Chapter 12 Lex
LEX
The journey to Aberdeenshire in Con’s Range Rover took four hours. We’d arrived as dusk fell and checked into a small inn under false identities—as a married couple, no less—our cover story for the three days we planned to stay here.
After dining at a pub next door, we returned to our room, making love until we fell into a contented sleep.
This morning, that feeling lingered, my body still humming from the pleasure he’d given me, but I knew that my focus had to shift to our mission. We were here to gather evidence on Viktor Orlov, confirm his connection to Project Labyrinth, and figure out how to stop his progress in developing AIWS.
“Based on the satellite imagery, the estate sits approximately three kilometers north of this position,” Con said, pointing to a topographical map spread across the table in our room.
“We’ll approach on foot through the forest on the west. The elevation here”—he traced a ridge line with his finger—“should provide ideal sight lines to the main compound without exposing our presence.”
I studied the terrain. “Their thermal detection grid has blind spots if we stay within the trees until this point.” I indicated a position where the forest extended closest to the compound.
We parked the vehicle on an old logging road and covered it with a camouflage tarp.
Con shouldered a backpack containing our equipment while I carried another with supplies we might need for an extended observation.
Despite the seriousness of our mission, I couldn’t help but admire his obvious comfort in field operations—a side of him I hadn’t witnessed before.
The trek through the dense Scottish woods took almost an hour. Con moved ahead of me with the silent grace of someone well practiced in covert approaches. Following his lead, I matched his footfalls, mindful not to disturb the underbrush.
When we reached the ridgeline, Con raised his hand to signal a halt and activated our signal-masking device before we moved to the observation point.
From our elevated position, we had a much better view of the estate than the satellite imagery had provided.
Con unpacked a high-powered spotting scope while I assembled a digital camera with a telephoto lens. We worked in companionable silence, our movements synchronized as if we’d done this dozens of times together.
“I count eight external cameras,” I said through the comms. “Plus what appears to be motion sensors at two-meter intervals along the fence line.”
We settled in for a long-term stakeout, documenting everything we saw in meticulous detail.
As the day progressed, we made a record of the deliveries and staff rotations.
The estate operated with military precision, hinting that whoever ran the facility had a background in safeguarding sensitive installations.
Late in the afternoon, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows approached the main gate. Unlike the previous vehicles, this one wasn’t searched or delayed. The gates opened immediately, suggesting someone of importance had arrived.
“Get ready,” Con whispered.
I focused my camera on the sedan as it pulled up to the main entrance. The rear door opened, and a tall, gaunt man emerged.
My breath caught. Though I could only see his profile, the distinctive way he moved was unmistakable—the slightly jerky gait, the rigid posture. I’d observed those same movements at three different AI conferences years ago.
“That’s Orlov,” I confirmed, snapping multiple photos.
Con’s expression hardened. “Not a ghost, after all.”
We continued our watch until dusk approached, capturing evidence of activity consistent with our suspicions.
Through windows on the northern wing, I glimpsed what could be a testing facility—banks of computers, specialized equipment, and workstations arranged in a configuration I recognized from theoretical research.
“They’re proceeding with integration trials.”
“How far along would you estimate they are?” Con asked, his eyes never leaving the compound.
“Days from functional capability, not weeks.”
Con’s expression darkened. “We should head back. We’ve gathered enough for now, and I don’t want to risk discovery.”
The return journey was faster but more demanding as darkness fell. Con led us through the forest with unerring accuracy. However, by the time we reached the vehicle, my muscles ached from the day’s exertion. I dozed off more than once on the return trip to the inn.
Rather than retiring to bed when we arrived, we set up our equipment, converting the room into a temporary ops center. Neither of us mentioned sleep; we both knew the evidence we’d gathered needed immediate analysis.
“Let’s return later tomorrow,” Con said as we worked. “I want to observe their night operations and document any additional deliveries. We still have two more days booked here.”
“Roger that,” I said, connecting my camera to one of his secure terminals. “I’ll also start processing the images we captured.”
“And I’ll cross-reference what we’ve seen with known shipments of quantum-computing equipment.”
For the next two hours, we worked side by side, compiling and analyzing everything we’d documented. The energy between us had shifted from the intimacy of the previous night to the focused intensity of two operatives in a race against time.
“Look at this,” I said, pointing to enhanced images of the facility’s northern wing.
Con leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine. “They’ve installed a dedicated power infrastructure. That level of energy consumption suggests…”
“Neural processing on a massive scale,” I finished. “Consistent with a fully autonomous system.”
We spent the next two days the same way, documenting everything down to the most minute detail, then analyzing our findings each evening.
By the third day, we had amassed substantial evidence of Labyrinth’s development, along with an absolute certainty Orlov was implementing a truly autonomous AI-weapons system, the implications of which were catastrophic.
We packed up early on our final day, both concerned about ruining our cover by hanging around any longer. The return journey to Blackmoor was long but gave us time to discuss our findings and formulate the next steps.
It was late evening when we finally arrived at the gates of Blackmoor. Despite our exhaustion, we went directly to Con’s ops hub to upload and secure our evidence.
As we compiled our findings into a secure file, Con’s encrypted communication system alerted us to an incoming message. His expression darkened as he read it.
“What is it?” I asked, moving to his side.
“I received word from one of my sources in London. There’s unusual activity at a facility in Canary Wharf consistent with what we observed in Aberdeenshire.”
“Labyrinth has a lab in London?” My pulse quickened. “That’s significantly more concerning than a remote Scottish location.”
Con was already typing rapid commands. “I need to mobilize resources immediately. I have contacts in London who can get in place without drawing attention.”
I watched as he accessed private channels, dispatching instructions to operatives I hadn’t known existed. He worked with the confidence of someone accustomed to commanding resources outside official channels.
“We should coordinate with my MI6 team,” I suggested, reaching for my secure mobile. “Viper has assets throughout London who could supplement your network.”
“No,” he said, not even raising his head.
I stared at him. “No?”
“We can’t risk it.” His voice was firm, brooking no argument. “MI6 would require documentation, approval chains, and resource allocation requests. We’d lose crucial hours, possibly days.”
My mouth gaped. “My teams operate with the same urgency yours do.”
“As you’re abundantly aware, you don’t have the same flexibility.” His eyes never left his monitors. “My network can be in position within the hour, no questions asked, no paper trail.”
I was stunned. “You can’t be serious.”
His eyes met mine for the first time in several minutes. “This is Unit 23 territory, Lex.”
“To my knowledge, we haven’t yet determined the need for an assassin.”
He stood up straight. “As you also know, we do a fuck of a lot more than that.”
“As does MI6. What’s this about?” I asked, my voice sharpening. “Because it seems like you’re making unilateral decisions about a joint operation.”
He resumed typing. “This is about doing what works. Official channels have failed repeatedly in tracking Labyrinth—that’s why we’re in this situation, to begin with.”
“And your private methods have been so successful?” I challenged. “From what I recall reading in the brief, Sullivan Rivers came damned close to losing her life.”
Con went still, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“I apologized for that comment at Glenshadow,” I said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up again.”
“You meant it then, and you mean it now.” His voice was cold. “The question is whether your loyalty to MI6 might similarly compromise our effectiveness.”
Any regret I felt dissipated. “You’re questioning my judgment? My professional competence?”
“I’m questioning whether you can operate beyond institutional constraints when necessary.”
“That’s rich, coming from a man whose entire operation exists outside accountability.” I gestured to the underground facility around us. “You’ve built your own private intelligence agency, answerable to no one.”
“It gets results,” he said flatly.
“So does MI6, when given the chance.” I stepped back, creating a physical distance that matched the emotional chasm opening between us. “I thought we were partners in this, Con.”
“We are,” he insisted, though his attention had already returned to the screens. “But sometimes, partnerships require one person to take the lead.”
“And that person is always you?” I laughed without humor. “That’s not a partnership—it’s a subordinate relationship.”
His blue eyes were hard when they bored into mine. “What would you suggest? That we waste precious time debating every decision? Lives are at stake, Lex.”
“Don’t patronize me. I’m well aware of the risks.” I felt heat rising in my cheeks. “I’ve dedicated my career to stopping threats like this.”
“Then, you should understand why rapid response matters more than procedural niceties.”
“This isn’t about procedures.” My voice rose despite my efforts to control it. “It’s about respect. You don’t respect my expertise or my resources enough to fully integrate them with yours.”
“That’s not true,” he said, but his tone lacked conviction.
“It is true. You see me as an MI6 representative first and a partner second.” The realization struck me with painful clarity. “Even after everything.”
Con ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’re misinterpreting my concerns.”
“Am I? Then, prove it. Let’s develop a coordinated approach using both units.”
He gestured to the incoming data stream. “My people are already moving into position.”
I looked at him—really looked at him—and saw something I’d missed before. Behind his confident exterior was a man who couldn’t relinquish control, who didn’t truly trust anyone else’s methods but his own. Not even mine.
“I see.” I stepped away from the workstation. “When you invited me into your bed, did you think that meant I’d stop being your equal? That I’d simply defer to your judgment on everything?”
His expression hardened. “That’s unfair.”
“Is it?”
“Yes,” he repeated.
“Prove it,” I repeated.
His jaw tightened. “I’ve shared resources with you that no outsider has ever seen.”
“Outsider.” The word hung between us.
Con looked away, his silence more damning than any argument he could have made.
I reached for my mobile. “I’m returning to London.”
“Lex—”
“No.” I held up my hand. “When you’re ready to work as the team we were assigned to be, you know where to find me. Until then, I’ll pursue this investigation on my own.”
I made the call as I returned to the main level of the castle, knowing he wasn’t far behind. “Viper? It’s Lex. I need transport back to London.” I paused, listening to her response. “Yes, immediately.”
Con followed me to my room, arguing his position the entire way. I changed into the clothes I’d arrived in, leaving everything else behind. Each item represented a connection to Blackmoor—to Con—that I couldn’t bear to take with me.
“This is a mistake,” he said from the doorway as I zipped my bag. “We don’t have time for this,” he said again, frustration evident in every line of his body.
I shouldered my bag. “I don’t work this way. Not even with you.”
The last thing I saw as the car Viper sent pulled away was Con standing alone on the steps of his ancestral home, a solitary figure against the ancient stone.
The image stayed with me long after Blackmoor disappeared from view, a reminder of what might have been if only he could learn to share more than his bed.