Chapter 22 Bash
Bash
I’m half dead on my feet as I shuffle into the conference room, legs heavy and head buzzing. Xeni and I stayed out dancing until the night bled into morning, under the flickering club lights and bass that thumped through our bones.
We didn’t talk.
Didn’t try to define what it was.
We just lost ourselves in the music and each other, the way we always used to before everything went to hell.
Xeni was beautiful out there. His cheeks flushed a deep rose and his hair was frizzy and wild, with strands sticking to his neck and temples.
He moved against me with that devastating knowledge he’s always had of my body. Every roll of his hips and brush of his fingers was deliberate, drawing reactions from me without even trying.
He pressed close until we were chest to chest, his breath hot against my ear and hands sliding down my sides. It was familiar and new all at once. A reminder that he knows exactly how to handle me, and he hasn’t forgotten a single spot that drives me crazy.
I can still feel the ghost of it. The drag of his palms over my ribs, the way his thigh slipped between mine, and the low, satisfied hum he made when I gasped against his mouth. The club smelled like sweat and spilled liquor and too many bodies, but all I could breathe in was him.
Amber and salt and perfect sweetness.
Now, in the harsh fluorescent light of the conference room, my body still hums with the afterimage of him. I drop into a chair, trying to look like I’m paying attention to whatever briefing is about to start, but my mind is still back there, tangled up in him.
It’s wrapped in his arms outside my room, kissing him goodnight for endless minutes, then chasing him for just one more when he finally walked away.
And I know, deep down, that no matter what we say or don’t say next, last night changed something.
Again.
An exhausted yawn pulls my mouth wide as I tap my fingers against the table and stare out into the rainy afternoon beyond the window.
Ego comes in and drops into her seat, unceremoniously ripping off the bandage.
“Gideon’s been captured.”
“What?” Cato and I ask in unison as my attention snaps to the present.
She shoots Cato a wary glance. “Leif just left. Their group has confirmed that at least three of the High Commanders are in town. Two of the bigshot human officials are here, too. They’re all staying somewhere in the high-rise compound, just like we thought.
Gideon, apparently, went off-book and tried to find out more, but he was caught.
He’s being held at the prison in the northeastern quadrant. ”
“What’s Leif doing about it?” Piper demands.
“You know how it is,” Ego says with an apologetic grimace. “If you get caught, you’re on your own. We’re trying to pool resources right now and determine if there’s anything we can do, but it’s pretty likely…”
Cato sighs as she trails off. “He’s fucked.”
“You’re sure he’s at the northeastern prison?” I ask, and Ego nods. “Well, that’s a start. It isn’t nearly as secure as the one in City Center.”
She shuffles through a stack of papers, then tugs out a few before glancing beside her. “I’ll pull the notes I have on their setup there. Piper, want to help me look for weaknesses in the surrounding area?”
“Sure,” Piper says with a quick fist bump.
Ego’s attention returns to me. “We have a few contacts in the quadrant. I’ll see if I can get any intel.”
“We can’t risk our people for this,” I warn, and Ego cocks a brow at me. “I’m serious. Cato understands his brother went into this voluntarily, and we’re not sending anyone in unless the odds are stacked in our favor. It’s a gamble I’m not willing to take.”
“What if I told you we were madly in love?” Ego counters.
Cato’s shock fades enough to snort in disbelief. “Gideon is allergic to love, and you’re a walking chastity belt.”
“Ouch,” Ego says, clutching her heart. “Fine. We aren’t in love.”
“Of course you—”
“I did fuck him once though.”
Cato’s mouth hangs open.
Ego tosses him a wink. “Don’t worry, I pretended it was you.”
I sigh. “Can we focus?”
“Right, boss, I hear you,” Ego says, then jumps straight back into business as she turns to Sakane. “Do you still have those logs of the patrol rotations we took a few months back?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think we watched that quadrant very closely.”
“Anything helps,” she responds, before waving her finger between Cato, Jayce, and Sakane. “You three, work on mapping out a schedule for patrols that shows where they’re stationed at different times throughout the day. The more organized we can be, the better.”
Everyone gets to work, only taking breaks for quick meals and doses of caffeine. We don’t stop for sleep and grind through the night, and my head pounds as the sun rises.
Ego and Piper are returning after tracking down contacts, and the walls in the conference room are covered in maps. Potential plans are penciled over streets and in margins, with color-coded pins creating a chaotic pattern.
Everyone is arguing about the next steps and how much risk is appropriate, and the amount of information being passed back and forth is enough to rock my already muddy brain.
I need to be more focused. I owe that to Cato.
“Alright,” I say over the drone of competing voices, rubbing at my temples. “Just… stop talking for a second. Ego, tell me again what you guys figured out about where he’s being held.”
The room falls quiet, and I glance up to find Ego with her lips pursed.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says in a tone that’s syrupy sweet, “I thought you said to be quiet.”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I drag my palms over my face. “Please, Ego. Grace us with your superior knowledge and start talking.”
“Right,” she chirps, ignoring the way I glare. “As far as we can tell, they have no idea what Gideon was actually doing. There doesn’t seem to be any association with his prior crimes… so high-five to the person who managed to destroy that particular file.”
“Wasn’t that you?” I ask flatly.
She bats her eyes. “Was it? I’ve done so many amazing things I can’t remember them all.”
I snort a laugh and shake my head, staring at the maps and tapping my pencil against the table.
“What exactly are they holding him on?” I ask.
“Right now, there are no official charges,” she says.
“He’ll sit in that cell for a few months while they decide how much they want to punish him.
My guess? They’ll charge him with something they can nail him with, like trespassing.
Either that or they’ll conveniently forget he’s locked up and leave him in that prison until someone complains. ”
“Yeah, but who’s going to complain?” Cato asks with a frustrated sigh. “They suspect he’s a rebel or they wouldn’t be holding him, and anyone who comes looking for him will automatically be lumped into that same category.”
“Maybe you could claim him as family?” Sakane suggests, but everyone else shakes their head.
“The only thing worse than knowing a rebel is being related to one,” I say.
“The security isn’t bad in that quadrant.
” Ego references the map we spent the night marking.
“There are several decent escape routes surrounding the prison, but the problem is getting in and out of the facility itself. It’s not maximum security, but we’re still dealing with a ten-foot wall, razor wire, and inch-and-a-half steel bars on the windows. ”
“Not to mention the guards?” Cato adds.
“Yeah,” Ego agrees with a grimace. “There is that.”
“There is some good news,” Sakane says as he flips through his own stack of neatly written notes. “Everything we recorded for that quadrant suggests there are very few military installations there, and they’re all low clearance.”
He stands to point at buildings on the map.
“Administrative offices, a distribution center for food and toiletries, and a mechanic shop that services the fleet vehicles. There doesn’t appear to be anything secret hiding there, either, or we’d see more guard presence.
The highest security is at the distribution center, but that’s expected.
Patrols walk the streets, usually in a duo, and the crime rate is nearly nonexistent. ”
“Are there any times they don’t patrol?” I ask.
Sakane shakes his head. “As best we can tell, no, and we can’t seem to find a pattern to their cycles.”
Cato drums his fingers as he thinks. “Are there any contractors that go in and out of the prison? Ones that might have humans working for them?”
Piper taps a pen against her lip as she reads through a stack of notes. “Laundry is done by the inmates, although a tailor comes in once a month to do repairs. Sheets, jumpsuits, that sort of thing.”
“Do we know anything about their schedules?”
“Negative. The only reason we know about them at all was dumb luck seeing someone go in.”
Cato grunts and taps his fingers faster. “Alright, what about supplies?”
Piper digs into her notes again. “Supply shipments come in on… Wednesdays.” Glances are exchanged around the room as we realize that’s two days from now, but Piper is quick to squash the idea. “Those deliveries are done by military personnel.”
“No human contractors?” Cato asks.
“Doesn’t appear that way, no.”
“I could go,” a quiet voice says from the door.
Heads snap up to find Xeni standing with his hand on the doorframe. His hair is damp like he’s freshly showered, though he looks as tired as the rest of us.
“We’re letting him roam freely now?” Cato demands with a scoff.
I hold my hand up to silence him. “Excuse me?” I ask Xeni once I get past the shock of seeing him standing there.
He’s infuriatingly calm as he gestures at the notes spread across the table.
“Gideon and I may not be each other’s biggest fans, but he was helping me.
He had a chance to turn me in and didn’t do it, and he’ll recognize me.
You need to get into the prison, and I have a uniform and an ID. It makes sense.”
He turns to Ego. “How many guards transport the supplies?”