Chapter 64 Lark
Lark
Location: Secure Facility — Lisbon
Time: Same
Ifeel it before the alarms.
Not sound.
Not movement.
A shift.
Subtle—but wrong.
The building has a rhythm.
Systems layered over systems—redundancy, fail-safes, quiet background noise that never changes.
Until it does.
The air pressure dips.
Just slightly.
But enough.
And then—
three systems go dark at once.
That never happens.
Not by accident.
Not ever.
“Ronan,” I say, already moving. “We just lost two perimeter feeds.”
“Confirmed,” he replies instantly. “And I just lost a satellite.”
That drops the floor out from under everything.
You don’t “lose” a satellite.
You get blinded.
Aaron is already in motion.
No hesitation.
No second guessing.
“Evac,” he says. “Now.”
The room snaps into action.
But not panic.
Never panic.
We don’t go for the main corridor.
Too obvious.
Too exposed.
We don’t take the designated safe route either.
If they’re this deep—
they already know it.
We take the path no one is supposed to know exists.
A narrow access corridor behind the data stacks.
Unmarked.
Unlogged.
Forgotten.
Except by the people who built it.
We hit the stairwell at speed.
Boots pounding metal.
Breath tight.
Controlled.
Halfway down—
the lights die.
Total darkness.
Not a flicker.
Not a failure.
A kill.
And then—
gunfire.
Sharp.
Measured.
Disciplined bursts.
Not panic fire.
Not spray.
Professional.
Close.
Too close.
“They’re inside,” Aaron says.
Not surprised.
Not shocked.
Just confirming what we already know.
And suddenly—
this isn’t an evacuation.
It’s a race.