Chapter 26 Julia
Julia
The blast doors yawned open to the smell of wet earth and jet fuel. Dawn bruised the horizon—violet turning to gray—and the Veridian compound stretched ahead like a sleeping beast.
Markham was already halfway across the tarmac, a slim figure in a field jacket, clutching a small black case. He moved fast for a man his age, cutting toward a waiting VTOL transport idling at the far pad.
“He’s not getting away again,” Hawk said.
We all ran.
The cold air tore at my throat, boots pounding the concrete. Wind from the aircraft’s turbines whipped spray and grit into our faces. Markham glanced back once, saw us, and pushed harder. He was almost at the ramp when Hawk’s voice cut through the distance:
“Don’t do it, Markham!”
Markham slowed—not stopped, but slowed—long enough to call over the noise. “You can’t stop this. Veridian isn’t a project anymore. It’s infrastructure.”
He turned, and Hawk’s shot cracked the morning open. The bullet took the ramp control clean, sparks showering as the platform jammed halfway up. Markham stumbled, dropped the case, and dove behind a stack of fuel drums.
“Cover!” Hawk barked. We slid behind a maintenance cart as return fire sparked off the metal. The air smelled of cordite and rain.
Boone’s voice came through the comms. “We’re inbound—ninety seconds.”
“Too long,” Hawk growled.
I nodded, signaling left flank. He moved right, our steps in rhythm, a practiced duet in chaos. I caught a glimpse of Markham reloading—calm, precise, still believing he could win this.
I fired. The round hit the ground near his cover, and he jerked back, just enough for Hawk to sweep around the other side. “Drop it!” Hawk shouted.
Markham hesitated, gun still in his hand. “You really think you understand what you’re fighting, Jensen? Reese was a front—an easy villain to keep you occupied. But the next phase is already running.”
Hawk stepped closer, weapon steady. “Then shut it down.”
Markham’s expression twisted. “Even I can’t.”
For a heartbeat, everything stilled—rain, rotor wash, the world holding its breath. Then he lifted his weapon.
Hawk fired first.
Markham crumpled, the gun clattering across the tarmac. The case slid free, bouncing once before stopping at my feet. Smoke curled from Hawk’s barrel, the echo fading into the wind.
I knelt beside Markham. He was still breathing, barely. His lips moved. “You’ll see… the next key… Midwest…” The words dissolved into a final exhale.
Mile’s voice came through, thin and urgent. “We’re picking up data transmission from his location—shortwave burst to a satellite node over Kansas. It’s not random. He triggered something.”
Hawk wiped the rain from his face, jaw tight. “Then that’s where Reese went.”
Boone and Aaron arrived seconds later, weapons raised, scanning the perimeter. “Report?” Aaron asked.
“Markham’s down,” Hawk said. “But we’re not done.”
Aaron looked at the case. “That's the Veridian core?”
Julia nodded. “And probably our only map to Phase Three.”
Mile’s voice: “Confirming—files inside are live. You just stopped a launch command midstream. If you hadn’t…” He didn’t finish.
Hawk exhaled. “Then we just bought the world a few more hours.”
The rain eased, a pale light edging the horizon. I looked at him—face streaked with dirt and water, eyes dark with everything he’d seen—and felt the truth settle between us: this wasn’t victory, just reprieve.
He caught my gaze. “Midwest?”
I nodded. “Midwest.”
Aaron clapped his shoulder. “Then that’s our next move.”
As the transport lifted behind us, carrying Markham’s body and the evidence toward the debrief, the wind scattered the last of the storm clouds. The sky was clearing, but beneath the dawn I could still feel it—the pulse of something bigger, waiting.