Page 121 of Twist of Fate

“The project was compartmentalized. The engineers knew the components they were building, but not what the complete system tracked.”

“The buyer knows.”

“Yes.”

“Patrick?”

“No. Patrick was never involved.”

Luke had already believed that, but hearing Hale confirm it was a relief.

“The buyer pushed the schedule forward,” Hale said. “I thought I had more time before delivery.”

“You never had time.”

The elevator slowed as it approached the sub-basement.

“This doesn’t get delivered,” Luke said. “It doesn’t get sold, transferred, or finished.”

Hale frowned. “You don’t understand what’s at stake.”

“I understand exactly what’s at stake.”

The doors opened onto a narrow concrete corridor lined with pipes and electrical conduits.

Luke caught Hale’s arm before he could move toward the service exit.

“Show me the servers,” he said. “Today, this system dies.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hale pulled free of Luke’s grip and led him deeper into the sub-basement.

After the third turn, the corridor started to look the same. Luke followed the electrical conduits above his head. They were the only indication that Hale was leading him forward instead of circling back through the same stretch of concrete with different pipes overhead.

The whole level hummed. Not loudly. Loud would’ve been better. This was worse. A low, constant vibration buried in the walls, the floor, and the narrow metal conduits bolted along the ceiling. It made the air feel alive, as if the building had a pulse and Luke was walking inside its ribs.

Hale moved ahead of him with the speed of someone who knew exactly where every camera, door, and blind corner lived.

Luke hated that he had to trust him now. He had every reason to be furious with Hale, but anger wouldn’t destroy the system or return Luke to Connal any faster.

“How much farther?”

“End of the next corridor.”

“Your definition of close needs work.”

Hale didn’t look back. “We’re almost there.”

“People always say that when they mean far enough to become a problem.”

The corridor narrowed beside a bank of electrical panels. Yellow warning labels peeled at the corners. A locked cage covered a section of pipes feeding into the ceiling. Somewhere behind the wall, machinery kicked on with a hard metallic thunk, and Luke’s hand instinctively curled into a fist. He had to force himself to open it again.

He had been in enough restricted-access spaces to recognize the feel of them. Colder air, ugly lighting, and nothing decorative because no one was meant to linger. Everything existed to serve a function.

This function could expose Connal and every other magical being Hale’s system found.

“Tell me exactly what’s inside the server room,” Luke said.