Chapter 20 Lex
LEX
The pieces of Project Labyrinth were beginning to fall into place.
Based on the intel we’d gathered, Orlov’s operation appeared to combine AIWS with electromagnetic pulse technology in ways we hadn’t previously encountered.
Our next step was clear—we needed to infiltrate the lab to confirm our suspicions and gather concrete evidence.
I observed Con from across the command center as he finalized three separate mission briefs. Each contained slight variations in coordinates and timing—a subtle trap designed to expose any leak.
When he finished, he gave me a slight nod. “We’re ready.”
Bennett entered the room, his posture rigid with tension. The strained dynamic between him and Con had become impossible to ignore, with team members exchanging uneasy glances whenever they occupied the same space.
“Are those our mission specs?” Bennett asked.
“Affirmative,” said Con. “Infiltration scheduled for zero one hundred hours.”
Dr. McLaren settled beside me as I checked my equipment.
“Your access module will need to interface with their quantum-encrypted systems,” she said, her voice low.
“The Metzger H-series firewalls they’re using have a vulnerability in the authentication handshake—exploit that, and you’ll have administrative access. ”
I paused, my hands hovering over my gear. “How do you know they’re using Metzger H-series?”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It was in the intelligence briefing.”
Except it wasn’t. I’d memorized every line of it. There had been no mention of specific firewall systems.
Across the room, Bennett was loading his weapons.
I caught a glimpse of what looked like unusual ammunition being tucked into his vest pocket—cartridges with what appeared to be red casings, though I couldn’t be certain from my position.
If they were what I suspected—specialized armor-piercing rounds—they weren’t standard-issue or on our approved equipment list.
When he thought no one was watching, he stepped into the hallway and spoke in hushed tones. The language wasn’t English—it sounded harsh, with guttural consonants. I couldn’t place it, but something about the secretive nature of his actions raised more flags in my mind.
I needed to tell Con about what I’d discovered. I approached him as he secured the operations center.
“Con, I need to—”
A comms alert interrupted us. Con checked the secure line, his expression darkening. “Surveillance just picked up increased activity at the compound. We need to accelerate our timeline.”
“But there’s something you should know—”
“We’ll have to debrief later,” he said, his attention already shifting to the tactical displays. “If we miss this window, we may not get another.”
I swallowed my frustration. The mission had to take priority, but the warning in my gut grew stronger with each passing hour.
We approached the facility at the designated time under a moonless sky that rendered the countryside in shades of black and gray. According to the satellite imagery, the complex sprawled across three hectares was surrounded by an electric fence and patrolled by armed guards.
“This is where we split up,” Con whispered. “Each of you, follow your targeted infiltration points. Radio silence unless absolutely necessary.”
While McLaren and Archon were assigned to the western perimeter, Bennett and Renegade were heading east, toward the equipment-testing field we’d observed in the satellite footage. Con and I headed for the main building, where we hoped to find data on Project Labyrinth’s functionality and scope.
We’d barely cleared the perimeter when alarms shattered the night. Not at our position—they’d triggered on the opposite side.
“Why in the bloody hell is McLaren over there?” Con hissed, spotting her on his tactical display.
She was paired with Archon, so I agreed it made no sense. However, we had a tight window, forcing us to follow it to achieve our objectives.
“Stick to the plan,” I reminded him. “They’ve got their directives; we’ve got ours.”
Con hesitated, then nodded. We continued toward the main building, using the distraction to our advantage. The guards had rushed to respond to the breach, leaving our path temporarily clear.
The interior was stark and utilitarian—polished concrete floors, reinforced walls, and surveillance cameras at every junction. We disabled the cameras as we progressed, moving deeper into the complex until we reached a secured laboratory.
The electronic lock on the lab entryway proved more challenging than expected. Three failed attempts would trigger a silent alarm. I connected my decryption module and ran through the bypass sequences, sweat beading on my forehead as the seconds ticked by.
“Hurry,” Con urged, keeping watch behind us.
“Almost…” The lock finally yielded, flashing green after a complex sequence of cryptographic exchanges. “Got it.”
The portal slid open, revealing a cavernous space filled with servers, workstations, and at its center, a device unlike anything I’d ever seen. It resembled an MRI machine but with additional components that gave it an ominous appearance.
“The pulse weapon prototype,” Con confirmed, his voice low.
I moved to the nearest terminal and connected my access module. The system requested an authentication, and I spotted the Metzger handshake protocol McLaren had mentioned. The revelation chilled me a second time—how could she have known?
I bypassed the authentication and began extracting data, scanning through the files as they downloaded.
“I’ve found something,” I said, pointing at the screen. “It’s not just an EMP. There’s an integration between the AI targeting system and neural interface technology.”
Con leaned closer, his shoulder touching mine. “Making it selectively affect certain targets?”
“Yes, but there’s more.” I scrolled through the technical specifications that made my blood run cold. “The neural interface component allows them to exempt specific individuals from the effects. I’ve never seen anything like this architecture before.”
Our faces were so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek.
For a moment, the mission faded into the background, and I was acutely aware of him—his scent, his warmth, and the intensity in his eyes as they met mine.
I couldn’t allow myself to consider what life would be like without him.
Every mission was that dangerous. Lives were lost. People came home in boxes.
“Lex,” he said, my name barely a whisper on his lips.
I swallowed, forcing myself back to the task at hand. “We need to gather all the data we can,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This technology could be devastating in the wrong hands.”
Con’s eyes lingered on mine a beat longer than necessary before he turned to scan the room for additional storage drives or backup systems.
I continued the download, monitoring the progress bar while trying to quiet the hammering of my heart.
The sound of footsteps approaching cut our mission short. “We’ve got company,” Con warned.
I hastily disconnected my module, the data extraction at eighty-seven percent. “We need to find another way out.”
Con pointed to the maintenance access along the far wall. “There. Service corridors run throughout.”
We removed the panel and slipped into a narrow passage just as the laboratory door opened. Through a small gap, I caught a glimpse of armed guards sweeping the room, their weapons at the ready.
Con led the way, our progress slow in the confined space. The walls pressed in on all sides, and pipes ran along the ceiling, forcing us to hunch as we moved.
“Wait,” I whispered, stopping suddenly. “Listen.”
Shots erupted from somewhere nearby—sharp, staccato bursts echoing in the metal structure.
We continued navigating the maze of service tunnels, using Con’s tactical display to orient ourselves toward the source of the gunfire.
The sounds grew louder as we approached, interspersed with shouted commands in Russian.
When we emerged into a hallway near the eastern wing, the air was thick with smoke, and bullet holes scarred the walls. Following the trail of destruction, we reached an area that resembled a firing range.
Bennett was there, slumped against a wall, blood seeping through his tactical vest. Dr. McLaren crouched nearby, her face pale with shock.
“What happened?” Con demanded, kneeling to examine Bennett’s wound.
“Ambush,” Bennett gasped. “Orlov was waiting for us.”
McLaren’s voice was shaky. “He knew exactly where we’d be. We need to move, now.”
I caught her eye, searching for any sign of deception, but her expression revealed only fear and tension. Still, something felt off. The way she’d known about the Metzger firewalls. How she avoided my gaze now. More, she was supposed to be with Archon, and Bennett with Renegade. Where were they?
“Can you walk?” Con asked Bennett, helping him to his feet.
Bennett nodded grimly, leaning heavily on Con. “This exit is compromised,” he said through gritted teeth. “We need another way out.”
“The service passageways,” I suggested, taking point. “I’ll lead. This way.”
We retreated into the maintenance tunnels, me in front, Con supporting Bennett, and McLaren bringing up the rear. The narrow space hampered our movement, with Bennett’s injury further slowing our progress.
The alarm systems continued to wail as we navigated the service network. Twice, we had to freeze in place as their teams passed by the access areas.
“How much farther?” McLaren whispered, her voice tight with tension.
“Almost there,” I replied. “The northwestern perimeter has fewer guards. We can exit there.”
Bennett’s breathing had grown labored, his face slick with sweat. The blood had soaked through his tactical vest, leaving a trail of dark droplets on the metal floor behind us.
“He’s fading fast,” McLaren observed. “We need to get him out of here.”
“We’re close,” Con assured her, bearing most of Bennett’s weight.