Page 118 of What Remains

“It’s only an emergency backup plan, but these people are several steps ahead of us, and I hate to admit that, but⁠—”

“We’ve dealt with much worse. We’ve never admitted defeat. We will find a way out of this. We always do. You are not to be a sacrificial lamb.” His nostrils flare as his face gets a little red. “Don’t let them get in your head to make you think we’ll lose. That’s not you. That’s not who you are.”

“It’s not like I’ll go to prison prison. Grandpa and the president won’t let that happen. But if we have no choice, and I do get arrested, I won’t tell them anything about you or the others just to save myself. Absolutely not.” I open my palms face up, and my charm bracelet jingles, drawing my eye. For a heartbeat, I’m back in that lift when I had to toss it before I was taken. “We can, um . . .” I blink my way up and to the safety of the hall. “. . . flip the tables on them and do something they’d never expect.”

“Because we would never let you take the fall. Not ever.” Dad’s fuming. Understandably so. “That’s one thing they’re right about. Not on my life would I let you. If we have to expose Echo Team and the others to absolve you, then so be it.”

I shake my head. How is he not understanding this is the best option if shit hits the fan? I think back to what Carter said about his mother-in-law. “We’ll martyr me. That no-one-is-above-the-law thing can come from Grandpa. Let it help his chances of winning instead of hurting him.”

“Are you out of your bloody mind?” Dad’s eyes bulge.

“Like I said, I won’t actually go to jail. I could fake my death or something—like Julian did—until you get to the bottom of all this and take out the real bad guys, which I have total faith you’ll do.”

“This is not up for discussion.” Dad swipes his hand between us in one wild motion, like he’s clearing a desk of bad ideas. “This isn’t a backup plan, it’s a no-chance-in-hell one.” He shifts to the side and claws at his hair.

Shit. I didn’t mean to make him spin out.

“And if you don’t want me talking to Easton about this, that’s exactly what I should do. That means you’ll listen to him since you don’t seem to hear the word no coming from my mouth.”

“I can’t let you all go down because of me.” My voice catches as my emotions start to take a toll, threatening to produce tears I have no desire to shed. “If one of us has to, then let it be me.” I slap a hand over my heart. “I’m the daft idiot who took her rig on vacation and put us in this mess to begin with, so if push comes to shove, it’s my mess to clean up.”

His hands go to his hips, and he tips his chin, eyes on the ceiling. “I could use a little help here.”

Who are you talking to?

At the sound of a door opening and shutting behind us, I force myself to turn away from the sad sight of my dad unraveling to Mya on approach.

“Everything okay?” I blink back tears and pull myself together before she gets to us.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Mya holds out my new mobile. “But Julian’s on the phone and needs to talk to you.”

I shift to the side to check on Dad. He doesn’t meet my eyes, but he lifts his hand and nods, letting me know it’s okay to take the call.

I accept my mobile, and we follow Mya back to her suite.

Once inside, I place the call on speaker. “Hey, it’s me. Tell me you have something.”

“No usable CCTV footage where the signal pinged,” Julian cuts straight to it, “but they used the CCTV nuke.”

Shit. That’s both good and bad news. “Well, that narrows down the list of who could be behind this quite considerably. I didn’t exactly leave an instruction manual on my rig, which means he or she has elite skills.”

“Exactly.”

I drop down in the desk chair and Dad remains standing by me, his face still fraught with so many mixed emotions that it hurts me to even look at him. “Just tell me you’ve already used the antidote to uncover what they nuked.”

“I did,” he shares. “Two figures were caught on screen in the location of where your rig pinged. But it was before sunrise, so the lighting there was shit. I can’t even tell if we’re dealing with men or women. They had hoodies on and kept their faces down.”

“I assume you saw them holding my rig?”

“I was able to zoom in to confirm it was yours based on the stickers.”

“The only reason they’d go to the trouble of nuking that footage is to conceal the fact I wasn’t actually there. They’re most definitely looking to nail me for this.” I discreetly glance at Dad, and his mouth draws tight. Poor word choice on my part. I need to do a better job at watching my mouth.

“Looking that way,” Julian agrees. “As for some good news,” he begins, “I know of three, maybe four, people who are capable of understanding our program and also pulling off the deepfakes.”

“Would these hackers you know of have social media profiles? Photos you can send us to look at?” Dad breaks his silence, and I forgot to warn Julian he’s on speaker.

Julian clears his throat and rasps a respectful, “Sir,” to acknowledge him. “No, they’d never be on social media, but I’ll put together that list as soon as I’m at the hotel and send it over.” He pauses for a beat, then continues in a semi-somber tone, “Most of these people are like me, and they don’t exactly leave a trail that can be followed.”