Chapter 19 Altered State
Altered State
Fee:
"Anton." His name scrapes raw against my throat.
There's a blank space on the laptop screen where his signal used to be. Nothing.
I grab Yuri's arm. "Where is he?"
Yuri's eyes meet mine.
"Breathe, Fee."
Air rushes from my lungs. I didn't realize I'd been holding it. I can't think of anything when the laptop screen stays dark, where Anton's tracker should be glowing green.
Yuri's hand covers mine. Warm. Steady. "He entered the shipping containers," he says. "Signal gets weak in there. The metal walls create interference."
"But the gunfire?"
"He's looking for cover." Yuri's voice carries absolute certainty. "You know how many times Anton's been shot?"
I stare at Yuri, trying to read whether this is comfort or cruel honesty.
"No."
Yuri's mouth curves, just barely. Not quite a smile. Something darker, more assured.
"None."
The word lands like a physical hit.
"None," Yuri repeats. "Anton stays invisible until he chooses not to be. Because he doesn't take hits, Fee. He gives them."
My pulse hammers like machine-gun fire. Logically, Yuri's explanation makes sense. Anton's survived this long because he's better than everyone else. But my heart doesn't get the memo. It keeps hammering, frantic and unconvinced.
"He's going after the shipment," Yuri says. "Alone. Because whoever wants him is creating this."
"They used the shipment as bait."
Yuri nods once. Sharp. Efficient.
"And before that, they used you."
I stare at the blank screen where Anton's signal should be. My mind races through the patterns. The precision of every attack. The way Morrison was set up, then eliminated when he became useless.
The reactivated flower order that wasn't about roses at all, but about showing Anton that someone could reach into his personal life without permission.
And me.
They knew about me before anyone else did. Before Anton even admitted to himself what I meant to him. They've been watching us for these last six months.
"They've been waiting," I whisper. "Building this trap piece by piece."
On his laptop, security footage shows shipping containers stacked like metal coffins. Dark water beyond the dock. No movement visible in the grainy feed.
"Anton knows it's a trap." Yuri's fingers fly across the keyboard. "He's counting on it."
"That doesn't make me feel better."
Yuri glances at me. "Traps only work when you don't see them coming. Anton walked in there with his eyes open."
My stomach churns. Anton might be the best, but he's also hunting someone who knows exactly how he operates.
Someone who knows Anton's weakness is me.
Mom and Dad left thirty minutes ago, or maybe longer, to get something to eat. I need space to think.
Mom didn't want to leave. She kept looking between the hallway at Moira and me, as if being close enough could keep us both safe. But Dad convinced her that Yuri was with me, Lorenzo and his men were here, and panicking on an empty stomach wouldn't help anyone.
Mom's gone completely paranoid now. With good reason. But even paranoia can't survive indefinitely without fuel.
Logic doesn't stop my thoughts from scattering in every direction like paper in the wind. Logic doesn't slow my racing pulse or unknot the tight coil in my stomach.
I've spent my entire life learning how to weaponize information because I was too small, too young, too female to do anything else in this world. Knowledge is power. Control comes from understanding the patterns nobody else sees.
And right now, sitting here drowning in fear while Anton walks into a trap isn't helping anyone.
"I need to work."
Yuri's eyes flick to mine. He doesn't argue, doesn't tell me to rest or let the men handle it.
I open the laptop. "They know about me," I say, pulling up my university portal. "My classes, my schedule. They've been watching long enough to know I don't have much of an online presence beyond school and hacking competitions."
Yuri leans closer, watching my screen.
"So?"
"So today, I'm not going to be invisible like Anton would like me to be, not now.
" My cursor hovers over the university's message board, where students post about exams, deadlines, and study groups.
"I'm going to be the distressed sister who can't focus because her pregnant sister just went into premature labor.
I'm going to chat with my friend Phoenix. "
Yuri's focus sharpens instantly. "Phoenix?"
"Someone I met in my Calculus class." I pull up the chat app. "They've taught me new hacking tricks. Never met in person. Never even heard their voice."
"Gender?"
I pause. "I always assumed female. But I've never asked."
The possibility of Phoenix being exactly who they seem. Or Phoenix could be the person who's been orchestrating everything.
Either way, this conversation is important.
"Phoenix was online earlier today," I say as I check the timestamp. Active three hours ago. "I have to be careful not to share too much too quickly."
"How do you usually talk to this person?"
"Reserved." I pull up our chat history and scan through months of brief conversations about algorithm optimization and security issues. "But this week I mentioned I had some stuff happen, and I'm going to build on that."
"I like the way you're thinking," Yuri says.
I pull up the chat interface and start typing.
Fee: Hey Phoenix. Did you take the test yet?
My cursor blinks. Three dots appear, then disappear. Then nothing.
I count the seconds. Phoenix usually responds within minutes, especially about class stuff.
Nothing.
My fingers hover over the keys before I type again.
Fee: I might need your help with something.
Not unusual. We've traded hacking tips before, solved problems together in the digital shadows where academic integrity doesn't apply. But the request still carries weight.
I turn to Yuri, keeping my voice low.
"They knew I was supposed to take that test today." My throat tightens. "They also know I wouldn't ask for help unless I really needed it."
Yuri watches the screen over my shoulder. The cursor keeps blinking. Three dots appear again.
Then vanish.
Nothing.
"Someone's thinking very carefully about their response," Yuri observes.
Before I can reply, heavy footsteps echo down the hospital corridor. Multiple sets, moving fast.
Yuri doesn't tense. Doesn't reach for a weapon. He simply turns his head toward the sound with the kind of calm that only comes from absolute certainty in your ability to kill.
Lorenzo storms into the waiting room like a bomb mid-detonation. Three of his men flank him, their expressions carved from stone. And with them, Eden!
Ruslan's fiancée wears scrubs, her dark hair pulled back in a bun. She looks exhausted but alert, carrying a manila folder against her chest.
I'm on my feet before conscious thought catches up. The laptop stays beside Yuri.
"Keep an eye on the chat," I say.
His eyes meet mine. One slight nod. Whatever's coming, Yuri's ready.
I cross the waiting room. Lorenzo's face is pure murder. His jaw works like he's grinding bone between his molars.
"What happened?" I ask. The question comes out sharper than intended. "Is it Moira? The baby?"
Lorenzo's eyes lock onto mine. For a second, I think he might actually explode right here in the hospital corridor.
"The supplements Moira was taking were altered."
The words don't process immediately. I stare at him, waiting for the rest of the sentence to make sense.
"What?"
"Anton said we should look into anything that was given to Moira." Lorenzo's accent thickens with barely leashed fury. "I thought he was full of shit. Who would have touched my wife's supplements when everything and everyone has been vetted? But he was right."
Eden steps forward and opens the folder.
"We ran tests on everything Moira's been taking." Her green eyes meet mine with gentle professionalism that somehow makes the news worse. "The prenatal supplements she received two weeks ago were chemically altered. Someone added compounds designed to gradually raise blood pressure."
My stomach drops. Someone got close enough to Moira to poison her, doing it slowly and carefully. They made it look like just normal pregnancy complications.
"The premature labor," I whisper.
"Was induced," Eden confirms. "Not naturally occurring."
Lorenzo's hands curl into fists. The knuckles crack audibly.
"So Moira is okay?" I force myself to ask the most important question. "The baby?"
"Yes." Lorenzo's voice drops to a dark, lethal tone. "She is. They both are. Eden and the Basovs' medical team are handling everything now."
He takes a step closer. The violence radiating off him is almost tangible.
"I need to take care of this matter personally." Each word lands like a death sentence. "Because this motherfucker is going to suffer to the end."
Behind me, Yuri's voice cuts through the tension.
"Fee."
I turn.
He's staring at the laptop screen, his face empty of everything except professional focus. He looks dead inside, and that's exactly what makes him dangerous.
"Phoenix just responded."