58. GLASS
alistair
There are only two places in the world that can still make me feel as though I’m walking into a prison.
One is where I lost my mother, and the other is Triarch Dominion, buried deep beneath the the Forest of Dean soil.
The heavy iron gates guarding the subterranean access tunnel open without question the moment the scanners recognize my Aston Martin, yet the silence that greets us as we descend past the surface is wrong.
A place like this is never truly quiet. Even on its calmest days, muffled voices drift through ancient, rock-hewn corridors, tactical boots echo across polished stone floors, technicians move between subterranean wings, and guards exchange reports in the subterranean assembly yards. An order has its own sound.
Today, that sound is missing.
The primary staging yard, carved deep under the earth, is crowded beneath the harsh glow of industrial floodlights, filled with faces I rarely see gathered in one place.
The sentries posted along the reinforced concrete catwalks carry rifles instead of ceremonial sidearms.
Beside me, Ariella looks through the window at the cavernous, stone-walled bunker structure.
“Where are we going?”
I keep my eyes on the road ahead. “Somewhere secure.”
She falls quiet for a moment. Then, softly, she asks, “Should I be afraid?”
“No,” it’s the first lie I tell her today.
The car rolls to a halt before the main entrance. The gates begin to close behind us.
A dozen armed men are already waiting.
The eldest steps forward and lowers his head.
“Sir Hertley,” his gaze shifts toward the passenger seat. “The council has declared an internal lockdown.”
My mind immediately begins sorting through possibilities. “For how long?”
“Twenty-three hours.”
That explains the crowd.
It also explains why every available member of the Dominion appears to be inside the compound.
The guard looks back at Ariella. Then he steps aside, and the gates open.
I drive forward to my usual parking spot.
Heavy iron doors close behind us with a series of metal locks that slide into place.
Ariella looks back over her shoulder. For the first time since she walked into my office that morning, uncertainty crosses her face.
“This doesn’t look like a safe house,” she says, looking at me again. “Where is it, Alistair?”
I turn off the engine. “A place where they won’t look for you.”
Another truth.
Perhaps the last one I’ll be allowed to give her.
I step out of the car and walk around to open her side, offering my hand.
She hesitates only for a second. Then she places her hand in mine and lets me help her out.
I’ve spent years convincing myself that every decision can be justified if the outcome is necessary.
Standing beneath the walls of the Triarch Dominion with Ariella Keinston trusting me enough to follow without another question, I discover that intelligence and wisdom have never been the same thing.
Even so, I lead her inside through the entrance hall, which is too packed, unlike the other times.
That, more than the armed guards or the locked gates, tells me how serious the situation has become.
Triarch Dominion was never built to impress outsiders. It was built to function. Corridors that should be empty stand occupied. Doors that are usually left closed are left open.
Conversations die the moment we pass. What I don’t know is if it’s because of the heiress of the CynoTech Group walking with me or seeing me bringing an outsider and still breathing.
The latter surprises me too—outsiders are never allowed inside Triarch Dominion unless the Founders personally recruited them. If someone even brings an infant, both will be killed on the spot.
Which brings me to the conclusion that everyone here was expecting me to bring her. And though they might gather here for the said lockdown to catch who leaked the classified, they all gathered here for a celebration. After all, it’s a Keinston they caught.
Ariella notices but decides to say nothing.
So I don’t explain either. The fewer lies I tell her now, the better.
I lead her away from the central wing and toward the oldest part of the estate, where the architecture slowly abandons grandeur for practicality.
The stone walls give way to steel doors. Portraits disappear, replaced by security panels and reinforced glass. The polished floors become plain concrete.
She finally breaks the silence. “Alistair….”
“It’s my laboratory if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Her steps falter for the briefest moment before she catches up with me. “First Triarch Dominion and now this… wow, you don’t cease to impress me,” she suppresses a giggle, but I don’t join her temporary amusement.
The biometric scanner recognizes me immediately. A heavy door slides open, revealing the laboratory beyond is exactly as I left it.
It’s the only place in the world I’ve ever allowed to reflect the inside of my own mind.
Ariella slowly turns in place, her eyes awed. “You never mentioned any of this.”
“There was never a reason to.”
She walks toward one of the shelves, studying rows of carefully catalogued files.
“You could’ve solved half the department’s funding problems if Oxford knew this existed.”
Seeing me not engaging with her, her cheerfulness drops.
She lowers her eyes to the shelves again. “I was joking.”
I know she was.
I remove my jacket and place it over the back of a chair before moving toward one of the secured cabinets built into the farthest wall.
My hands perform familiar tasks without instruction. Access codes. Security overrides. Internal communications.
Time. Everything depends on time.
If Asher understood what I was trying to accomplish, he’d move faster.
If Adrian trusted his instincts, he’d already be looking for Ariella.
If neither of them does… that’s when I feel her phone vibrate in my pocket.
I look over my shoulder.
Ariella has wandered deeper into the laboratory, her attention captured by shelves of prototypes and journals she was never meant to see.
For the first time since we entered the Dominion, she appears almost like herself again.
I take it out before a second vibration—Adrian.
Relief is an unusual emotion. I’ve spent most of my life treating it as a weakness. Yet the simple fact that he’s worried for her allows a calculation I almost abandoned to become possible again.
I silence the call and return the phone to my pocket.
Behind me, Ariella continues exploring.
The laboratory fascinates her in the same way every difficult problem ever has.
Curiosity has always been one of her most admirable qualities. It also happens to be the main reason she’s standing here now.
Most people see a locked door and walk away. However, Ariella Keinston has always insisted on discovering what waits behind it.
I suspect that’s why I noticed her in the first place.
I also suspect it may be the reason neither of us survives this.
She pauses before a display case. “There are symbols on these files.”
I continue working. “Internal classifications.”
“They all have the same emblem.”
I close my eyes. Of course they do. The Dominion had marked everything from the inside. I have simply stopped seeing it by now.
She moves farther into the room.
A few moments later, I kneel beside a lower storage compartment, reaching for another encrypted drive. I need to make this look as real as possible to the Crown without actually preparing Ariella for the conversation.
I need to borrow more time.
Then I feel her stop behind me. She doesn’t speak.
The silence itself is unusual enough that I look over my shoulder to find her staring at the back of my neck.
I know exactly what she sees.
Years ago, I convinced myself the mark was merely practical.
A discreet black insignia, almost invisible beneath the collar of my shirt, which must have shifted at some point.
The same insignia she had seen when we were taking care of Delilah’s body. I remember being affirmative when she asked me. It’s the Triarch Dominion that branded me.
The same symbol she’d just seen engraved onto every piece of equipment in the laboratory.
Slowly, I stand. Her eyes leave the mark and move to my face. Genuine fear crumples her innocent features.
“No…” the word is barely audible. “No, that’s…” she looks around the room as though seeing everything for the first time. “This is the Triarch Dominion.”