Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
Kendall
Today is the day of the raid, and with my nerves completely shot, I know everything must unfold flawlessly without a single hiccup.
Sitting at my station, I quietly whistle, “Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go,” while keeping tabs on the guys as they head down the interstate toward West Texas.
At the same time, my backup monitor allows me to watch over Booker and the rest of the crew remaining at the clubhouse.
Branson and I are vibrating with a relentless energy we can't shake. Every second drags, stretching minutes into agonizing hours as we wait for the window to open. We’re trapped in this holding pattern for days yet, and the delay makes my skin crawl.
We’re waiting to rip our families out of Jerome’s clutches, but the slow crawl of the clock tests our resolve.
The fear gnaws at my gut, sharper than the throb in my bruised ribs.
We’re running on fumes, and I just need this nightmare to end.
Booker logs on, and as his face appears before me, I smile. He’s the only thing that keeps me going these days. “You on, Vixen?”
Placing my headphones on my head, I activate my mic and answer, “I’m here. How did things go last night after I had to sign off?”
“Wanted to ask about that, why did you exit so fast?” he questions, no judgment in his eyes which makes explaining things to him easier to digest.
I adjust my headset, the cord brushing against my bruised collarbone.
“I had to go dark, Booker,” I say, my voice low.
“My system got flagged. Jerome started hovering over his other tech, Branson, forcing him to search for a breach in our system. I had to scrub my tracks so no signal led back to you.”
Booker stiffens in his chair. “You were under surveillance?” he asks, his eyes wide on the screen. “You could have been caught.”
“I know,” I reply. “But something changed. I had a quick, encrypted conversation with Branson. He knows exactly what I’ve been doing now. Once I made it clear that backup is on the way, he flipped. He is on our side."
Booker exhales a sharp breath, the sound hissing through his headset as he stares intently at the screen. “Branson? The same guy who was ripping our firewalls to shreds yesterday? You have to be absolutely certain he isn't setting a trap for us.”
I lean closer to the monitor, wanting him to hear the unwavering confidence in my voice.
“He's providing cover for me right now. Every digital trace that connects us is being wiped clean by his hands. I promised him the freedom of his family alongside Kolter. That was enough to get him on our side.”
Booker rubs a hand over his face, looking exhausted but determined. “We would have handled his family regardless of any deal, Kendall. This isn't a tit for tat situation. We're in this together.”
“I know that,” I reply, my expression softening as I watch his tired face on the monitor. “But he needed a reason to believe there's a light at the end of this tunnel. Jerome has him paralyzed by fear, and he needed a guarantee before he'd risk his life.”
Booker leans closer to his own screen, his eyes burning with a tired intensity. “He's got that guarantee now. You both do. Tell me how I keep you safe until the strike hits.”
I trace the frame of the monitor with my fingertip, wishing I could reach him. “Stay dark. If Jerome catches a whisper of the Kings moving, he'll scramble. We need him to be arrogant and confident until the final second.”
“That's a hell of a gamble,” he mutters. He taps a key and his board lights up with cascading code. “I'm rerouting our server traffic through three proxies now. It'll mask your login time. That should buy you enough space to move without him noticing.”
“You're doing too much,” I say, my throat tight. “Save your focus for the raid. That's when I need you sharp.”
He finally looks up from his keyboard, his intent look locking onto me through the camera lens. “I'm not slowing down until you're out of there. I don't care if I crash when this is over. You're the priority.”
I bite my lip, fighting the surge of emotion. It's the first time in years someone has put my safety above their own. “Just stay focused, Booker. We're almost there.”
“I'm locked in,” he promises, his voice dropping to a low rumble. “Keep your head down.”
“Always,” I murmur, my hand hovering over the screen. “Bye, Booker.”
“Bye for now, Kendall,” he says as the screen turns black.
A tear rolls down my cheek as my lips tremble in absolute shock.
“He knows my name,” I whisper, my eyes widening.
I had intentionally kept it hidden from him to ensure both of our safety.
Now that he possesses this information, I can't help but wonder if he has searched the web to uncover the person I used to be before my identity was stolen from me.
A light flashes from my screen and I scramble to see who’s connecting with me now. When I see it’s Branson, I quickly connect. “What’cha got for me, Branson?”
“Well, hello to you too, Kendall,” he teases, but the black circles under his eyes say he’s in anything but a teasing mood.
“You aren’t sleeping,” I chastise.
“Jerome has me on a punishment protocol, so sleeping isn't an option,” he reveals. “Whenever I begin to nod off, rock music blares through the surround system, jolting me awake.”
“What did you do to get in trouble?” I ask, my voice biting, full of anger on his behalf.
“Yesterday’s accusation from Lester has him in a panic, Kendall. He suspects it’s one of us, but he lacks any proof. I can promise you that I won’t be the only one facing his punishments.”
“You came on to warn me,” I declare.
“You’re his main suspect. You need to watch your every move, Kendall,” he cautions.
“And yet, he defended me to Lester yesterday,” I muse.
“Of course he did, Kendall. He can’t let it be known he has a traitor in his midst. He needs the syndicate to believe he has a stronghold over us or he’ll be considered a loose cannon.”
“But it is essential that they see him that way, Branson,” I scoff.
“And we’re scattering the clues that will bring them to that realization,” he reminds me.
“You actually leaked something to them, didn’t you?” I accuse.
He gives me a deadpan look before responding, “I have no idea what you are implying.”
“Of course you don't,” I counter. “Just promise me you’ll keep yourself out of danger.”
“Without a doubt,” he swears. “However, you’re the one I’m concerned about.”
“I really appreciate that you care about me, Branson, I truly do. However, I have covered my tracks, and whatever pieces were left behind, you took care of.”
“We’re a team now, Kendall,” he remarks.
“Yeah, a team,” I murmur, my eyes darting to the door to make sure we're still alone. “Just keep your head down. If Jerome catches a whiff of this, he'll kill us both before he even blinks.”
Branson leans into his mic, his hollow eyes scanning his own screen. “I know the risks, Kendall. I don't have a choice. Neither do you. We finish this the right way, or we don't finish it at all.”
I nod, the knot of tension in my chest pulling tighter. “I've got the Kings on the hook. They're moving. We just have to keep Jerome distracted until the time is right and they're in position.”
“And after?” Branson asks, his voice barely a whisper. “What happens to us?”
“We run,” I tell him. “We hide. We live after we grab our family, we disappear. I don't care where. As long as he's not in the picture anymore.”
Branson lets out a ragged breath that sounds like a laugh. “Sounds like a fantasy.”
“It's the only one we've got,” I reply. “And I'm not letting it go.”
“I’ll hold onto it with you,” he whispers, his voice sounding tired but firm.
I feel a strange sense of calm wash over me. It is a start. I let my fingers fly across the keys again as I check the perimeter feed. We need more than just hope. We need precision. I have to be sure he isn't tracking our uplink.
“Can you verify the firewall bypass on the main server?” I ask, keeping my voice low.
Branson shifts in his seat, the sound of his movement coming through the mic like a rustle of paper. “I'm on it. I'll mask the signature so it looks like standard maintenance traffic. He won't suspect a thing until it's too late.”
“Good.” I breathe, my eyes scanning the screen.
“What’s our next step?” he inquires.
“We wait. We keep feeding him the lies he wants, and we wait for the Kings to strike.”
“Got it,” he replies. “Talk to you on the flipside, Kendall.”
The connection fades as he cuts the feed, leaving me alone in the dark again. I lean my head against the headrest of my office chair, utterly exhausted. For the first time in an eternity, the road ahead feels open instead of a dead-end street.
I whisper a plea to the cosmos, “Please don’t let me down.” Freedom is finally within my reach, and I refuse to let any obstacle block my journey to get there.