Not good.
Somewhere in cyberspace, there’s a bidding war over a mineral that could destabilize global security. And that laptop is the only thing keeping us in the game.
Sebastian’s fists fly—wild, furious. More panic than precision. I’ve got newfound respect for Cybil’s combat skills. I catch his arm before his knuckles land again, twist, and shove him off me—hard—just as Rook barrels in from the side.
Ramirez barks something sharp in Spanish—too fast to track—but it’s already too late.
Earl Edmond moves. He grabs a rusted pipe from the scaffoldingand slams it into Ramirez’s arm with a crack that echoes off the concrete. The gun goes flying. It arcs once, lands with a metallic thud, and skitters across the dusty floor, landing out of reach.
For a second, everything holds.
Then... chaos.
The pipe clangs to the ground. Ramirez stumbles back, clutching his arm. My gaze flies to where the gun is sitting a few feet away—closer to Sebastian than anyone else.
My pulse spikes.
Sebastian scrambles up from where I shoved him, eyes locking on the weapon. He can’t really fight, but you don’t need skills to pull the trigger.
Don’t go for it. Don’t go for it—
He goes for it.
Cybil lunges for it at the same time.
No—
It’s a split-second collision course, a tangle of limbs and gravel and fear. Dust kicks up. Someone coughs, Ramirez shouts again, but it’s a blur now. I’m not sure who he’s yelling at—maybe all of us.
Cybil reaches the gun first.
She rises slowly, gun in both hands, eyes hard and unblinking. Ramirez freezes. Rook stops short. Even Edmond, his breaths heaving, comes to a standstill.
My chest rises and falls in sharp jerks. Sweat stings my eyes, but I try—I try to get her to look at me. Just a flicker. Something to let me know she’s okay.
“Cybil,” Mr. Edmond tries.
Her grip on the gun doesn’t waver. But her eyes—they’re not as steady. They flick to Ramirez, then to me. Like she’s calculating. Cornered and... deciding.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, stepping toward her. Slowly. Hands up. “He’ll turn on you, too, Cybil. You think you’re safe with him? You’re not.”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink.
“You’re pointing that at the wrong man.”
Ramirez chuckles low in his throat. “She’s not as stupid as you thought, Craig.”
My jaw clenches. “They’re only in this for themselves. Edmond won’t protect you. He can’t. His hands are tied, and even if he could... you’re in this mess because of him.”
That lands.
Her eyes flash. But I don’t know if it’s fury or guilt.
“Cybil,” Mr. Edmond says, “don’t listen to him.”
I take another step. “He used you. Just like Ramirez used his son. You’re on the wrong side.”
She raises the gun slightly. Not at Ramirez. Not at Edmond.
