34. Evie
EVIE
Caleb knocks me behind the edge of the vault as bullets tear across the archive.
The black steel shudders beneath the impacts.
Rook and Shark return fire.
Cobra throws two smoke canisters into the circular chamber.
White clouds pour across the floor.
The guards don’t panic.
They divide into two groups and advance through the smoke.
“They have thermal optics!” Fathom shouts.
“So do we,” Rook answers.
Caleb fires from the threshold.
A guard’s rifle jerks from his hands.
Another round strikes the armor covering the shoulder of the man beside him.
Both retreat behind the circular pillars.
“They’re not trying to hold the vault,” Caleb says.
“They’re protecting Walter’s escape.”
The timer reaches twenty-five minutes.
Fathom points toward a control panel on the opposite side of the chamber.
“The containment system is tied into that console.”
Cobra looks through the smoke. “I can reach it.”
“There are twelve guards between you and the controls,” Shark says.
“Eleven.”
A rifle fires inside the smoke.
One of the armored men falls.
Falcon lowers his weapon with his uninjured hand.
“Now there are eleven.”
Rook studies the room.
“Shark and Falcon hold the threshold. Caleb and I draw them left. Cobra takes the console.”
“I’m going with Cobra,” Fathom says.
“You’re staying with me,” Mac tells him.
Fathom looks surprised.
“If they reach you, the drives disappear,” Mac explains. “I know their tactics.”
Rook nods. “Evie stays with Fathom.”
I open my mouth.
Caleb turns toward me.
His eyes hold mine.
Not an order.
A plea.
I nod once.
“I’ll protect the evidence.”
Relief passes across his face.
Then he moves into the smoke.
Rook goes with him.
Their rifles fire from the left side of the chamber.
The First Circle responds immediately, turning toward the threat.
Cobra runs right.
He reaches the control panel as Fathom and I enter the vault behind him.
Mac covers our backs.
The room is larger than it appeared from outside. Three levels rise around the circular center, each holding shelves, sealed cases, and old communications equipment.
This isn’t merely a vault.
It’s a command chamber.
Names appear on illuminated panels along the walls.
Some correspond to the Second Circle ledger.
Others are designated only by numbers.
Fathom sees them.
“The First Circle membership.”
“How many?”
“Seven active seats.”
“Names?”
“Encrypted.”
A guard emerges from the smoke.
Mac fires, forcing him behind a pillar.
I move toward the console with Fathom.
Cobra tears off the access cover.
“Tell me which wire prevents the bunker from collapsing.”
Fathom scans the controls. “That isn’t how this works.”
“It would be easier if it were.”
The timer reaches twenty-three minutes.
Then every screen changes.
A live camera feed fills the largest display.
A private railcar moves through a tunnel.
An older man sits inside it with the seventh drive resting on the table before him.
His face remains hidden in shadow.
Walter Graves enters the railcar.
The door closes behind him.
“The Chairman,” I whisper.
Fathom connects his tablet.
“Can you stop the train?” Mac asks.
“Not from this console.”
“Can you identify its destination?”
“Trying.”
The older man in the railcar turns slightly.
For one moment, light touches his face.
I’ve seen him before.
At Langley.
At my father’s funeral.
My hands go cold.
“No.”
Caleb’s voice comes through the radio.
“Evie?”
I step closer to the screen.
The man was older then, but I remember the hand he placed on my shoulder and the sympathy in his voice.
He told me my father had been one of the finest men he ever knew.
“Evie, talk to me.”
I force the words out.
“I know the Chairman.”