Chapter 10 The First Betrayal in Plain Sight #2
Ava’s eyes turned glassy with anger. “Stop calling it a fingerprint. You’re not clever. You’re compromised.”
The insider leaned back slightly, as if enjoying the shift in power. “If you recognize it, then you know why you’re here. You were always going to come to this room.”
Roman didn’t move his gun. He couldn’t. His body wanted to surge forward and tear the man apart, but his discipline held. If he lunged, he’d validate whatever trap the insider had already wired into the room.
Ava’s voice dropped, trembling now with something deeper than rage. “You’re one of the nodes.”
The insider’s eyes glittered. “Node. Network. Same difference.”
Roman heard it - the slight shift in the insider’s breath. Too even. Too rehearsed. He wasn’t panicking because he wasn’t afraid of their anger. He was afraid of their escape. Afraid of their ability to leave with proof.
Roman angled his gun toward the wall panel behind the insider. “Where’s the exit control.”
The insider’s smile returned. “There isn’t one you can use.”
Ava moved closer to Roman, shoulder brushing his. Heat flared between them despite the cold room, despite the betrayal. She didn’t look at him first - she looked at the folder, then at the wall, mapping options like she could still win by law even while the world burned.
“Roman,” she said, and her voice was a thread. “He’s feeding you a confession. He wants you to believe the insider is already exposed.”
Roman’s eyes stayed on the man. “And what do you think.”
Ava’s jaw clenched. “I think the insider is baiting us to flee with the wrong thing.”
Roman’s grip tightened. “You’re saying the evidence will be altered.”
Ava shook her head once. “I’m saying the proof won’t matter if we’re dead.”
The insider lifted a hand. “Time is up.”
A click sounded - somewhere above, then along the floor. A low thump vibrated through the table legs. Roman felt it in his teeth.
His training screamed before his mind did: a system activation. A trap triggered by their reaction, not their movement.
Ava’s eyes widened. “The soundproof walls - ”
Roman snapped toward the door. It was sealed. Of course it was sealed. The suite had been designed to keep threats in, or keep noise out. Either way, it had always been a cage.
He shoved the folder into Ava’s hands instead of arguing. “Keep it.”
Ava’s fingers locked around it instantly, her face sharpening with refusal. “No. We go together.”
Roman’s voice went hard. “Now.”
She stared at him, then at his gun, as if calculating the odds based on the angle of his wrist and the tension in his shoulders. “If you try to grab the folder back - ”
“It won’t be about the folder.” He stepped in close enough that his breath warmed her cheek. “It’ll be about who lives long enough to use it.”
Ava’s throat bobbed. She looked angry. She looked terrified. She looked like she wanted to argue him out of his own instincts.
Then the floor shuddered again, and a thin seam of light appeared beneath the table - gas, not fire. The scent hit next: sharp, chemical, wrong. Roman’s lungs tightened.
“Move!” he barked.
Ava jerked the folder toward her chest, not letting go, and Roman kicked the conference chair aside to clear space for her to move. The air thickened, visibility shrinking. In the dark, the insider’s footsteps retreated, calm as a man leaving a stage after the cue.
“Commander,” the insider called one last time, voice carrying over the room’s new hiss. “You wanted to clear your name. Now you’ll have to survive long enough for anyone to believe you.”
Roman grabbed Ava by the elbow and shoved her toward the only wall he hadn’t tested. “There’s got to be a service panel.”
“There isn’t - ” she started.
Roman slammed his shoulder into the wall where the access panel had opened. It didn’t give. He used the gun like a lever, striking the seam where his instincts insisted a hinge existed.
The sound was ugly, metal complaining. The gun’s weight vibrated up his arm.
Ava pressed her palm to the wall beside his, eyes blazing. “If that’s a node, it’ll have a fail-safe.”
“It won’t.” Roman’s breath burned. “It’ll have a trigger.”
Her gaze snapped to his, and for a second the air between them felt intimate in the worst way - like their bodies already knew how to survive each other. “Then we use the trigger.”
Roman didn’t have time to ask what she meant. Another thump hit. The gas hiss deepened, filling their throat with a bitter bite.
Ava yanked her sleeve up and, with a speed that surprised him, pulled a small tool from the inner seam of her jacket. Not something she’d used for this room. Something she’d carried because she didn’t trust any safe house to stay safe.
Roman’s eyes flared. “You - ”
“Hush.” She jammed the tool into the seam and twisted. The wall panel popped with a sharp crack, revealing a narrow service gap that smelled of grease and old wiring.
Roman shoved the folder out of her hands for a split second, then back again - his discipline wrestling the panic. “Go.”
Ava didn’t hesitate. She dropped into the gap, shoulders scraping, breath ragged but controlled. Roman followed, gun first, forcing his body into the cramped dark.
The insider’s voice faded as the room sealed behind them. In the service space, sound muffled, but the hiss of gas lingered, threaded through cracks like a promise.
Roman reached for Ava’s hand in the dark. His fingers found hers, and he held on like the contact could anchor her to him. Her grip tightened in return, her nails biting lightly through his skin.
Then the service space lights flickered once - just once - revealing the metal surface ahead.
On it, stamped in the same raised pattern as Ava’s private seal, was a name.
A name Roman had trained himself never to speak aloud.
He stared until the gas burned less and the reality burned more.
Ava’s voice came out raw. “Roman… you recognize it.”
He couldn’t answer. His mouth felt full of lead.
The metal stamped name wasn’t the insider’s face. It was the proof of the leak’s node - something that belonged to their system, their protocol, their past.
The wall panel at their backs clicked again.
Not opening.
Locking.
Ava’s body went rigid against his. “They followed us.”
Roman pulled her closer, pressing her to his side as if he could block bullets with his ribs. “Stay quiet.”
She didn’t argue. She listened, head turned toward the sound. He heard it too - footsteps in the corridor beyond the service gap, heavy and confident, the kind of men who didn’t fear sealed rooms because they controlled the plan.
Roman’s gun rose in the cramped space, muzzle angled toward the narrow gap where attackers would have to squeeze through.
Ava’s breath brushed his jaw. “Roman…”
He felt her tug slightly, and for the first time tonight, her fear wasn’t sharp - it was focused. “We’re not surviving this by running.”
He didn’t let himself ask what she meant. He only tightened his grip until it hurt, until the folder stamp pressed into his palm through her hand.
The footsteps stopped.
A voice - different from the insider - spoke through the metal like a verdict. “Commander Roman. Attorney Collins. Open the panel.”
Roman’s heart didn’t race. It did something worse: it went still, as if his body had accepted the trap as final.
Because the voice wasn’t threatening.
It was certain.
And certainty meant the person in charge already knew how this scene ended.
Roman leaned in toward Ava, the words scraping out of him like a confession he couldn’t afford. “Whatever you recognized - about our encryption pattern - wasn’t just a match.”
Ava’s eyes met his in the dark, too bright. “No?”
“It was a signature,” Roman said. “From someone who had access long enough to wear it like a key.”
Ava swallowed. “Then we don’t just have a leak.”
The metal panel shuddered as something struck it from the other side - once, twice - testing.
Ava’s fingers tightened around the folder. “We have a traitor who’s planning to make you look like you did this on purpose.”
Roman stared at the stamped name he couldn’t speak.
Then the panel gave way with a brutal metallic groan, and light sliced into the service gap - revealing not escape, not rescue - Ava’s face went pale as the intruder stepped in.
And Roman realized the insider who offered cooperation hadn’t compromised the network by accident.
He’d done it on purpose.
END OF CURRENT OUTPUT READY FOR CONTINUE