Page 28 of Bite for Sore Eyes

Maybe Dad could visit soon, she mused, if things continue going this well.

The entrance corridor stretched ahead of them, lined with security checkpoints and biometric scanners that spoke to the serious nature of the work conducted here.

Time to see what kind of puzzle they've got for me, she thought, anticipation building as they moved deeper into the facility.

The central workspace of the security center soon opened before them like a technological cathedral, its soaring ceilings housing banks of monitors that cast shifting blue light across polished surfaces. The familiar hum of cooling systems and the subtle electrical tang in the air transported Lana instantly back to her NSA days, when she'd spent countless hours in similar command centers protecting critical infrastructure.

This could have been my life, she thought, her chest tightening unexpectedly as memories flooded back unbidden.

The sleek workstations arranged in precise rows, the multiple displays showing network traffic patterns, the quiet intensity of specialists monitoring data streams—everything reminded her of the career she'd loved and lost. She could almost hear the voices of her former colleagues and feel the rush of solving complex problems that kept millions of people safe.

Her throat constricted as she remembered her last day at the NSA, cleaning out her desk while her supervisor awkwardly explained that they understood her need to focus on her health. The careful way everyone had avoided her eyes. The unspoken relief that they wouldn't have to accommodate her increasingly unpredictable medical episodes.

Stop it, she commanded herself, blinking back the sudden moisture in her eyes. You're not that woman anymore. You chose to leave that all behind and embrace something new.

But the ache remained, a hollow space where her professional identity had once lived.

Rath's warm hand settled on her lower back, grounding her in the present moment. "Everything alright?"

"Yes," she managed, forcing a smile. "Just... familiar territory."

A young man with tousled dark blonde hair looked up from one of the central workstations, his grey eyes brightening as he spotted their approach. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, and a diagnostic tablet rested beside his keyboard—the universal uniform of a dedicated engineer.

"Jace," Rath called out, his deep voice carrying easy authority. "I'd like you to meet Lana Morales, our fated mate, and someone who happens to be very skilled in cybersecurity."

Jace's expression shifted from polite interest to something approaching awe as he studied her face more carefully. Then his eyes widened, and he nearly knocked over his coffee cup in his haste to stand.

"Wait—Lana Morales? From the NSA breach five years ago?"

Heat flooded her cheeks. "You know about that?"

"Know about it?" Jace's enthusiasm bubbled over as he gestured excitedly. "I've read that article about your containment strategy at least a dozen times. The way you traced the attack vectors back through seven different proxy servers and then used their own malware against them to create a honeypot? Brilliant doesn't even cover it."

The memory hit her like a blow—weeks of eighteen-hour days, the mounting pressure as the breach widened, the moment she'd finally seen the pattern everyone else had missed. The satisfaction of watching the attackers' own tools turn against them. The commendation ceremony where she'd been promoted to Senior Cybersecurity Architect.

When I still believed I had a future, she thought, the familiar ache settling in her chest.

"It really wasn't as impressive as everyone made it out to be," she said automatically, deflecting praise the way she always did.

Rath's eyes flashed with something that looked like protective pride. "Lana, I'm sure it really was impressive, and you should be proud of your accomplishments."

The warmth in his tone made her pulse quicken, and she found herself nodding despite her usual instincts. "You're right. It was... it was pretty fun to solve a complex problem that no one else seemed able to figure out."

And I was good at it, she admitted silently. Really good.

"Speaking of complex problems," Jace said, settling back into his chair and gesturing toward his array of monitors, "we definitely have our own mystery on our hands here."

Torren leaned forward, his blue eyes focused intently on the displays. "Lana heard a little about the situation. But would you mind walking her through what happened with the firewalls and what diagnostics you've run?"

"Absolutely." Jace's fingers flew across his keyboard, and the screens filled with cascading lines of code, diagnostic readouts, and network topology maps. "I managed to patch all the firewalls, and they're functioning perfectly now, but there's no guarantee that while they were down last night, our critical information wasn't compromised."

Lana studied the displays, her mind automatically cataloging patterns and anomalies. The familiar thrill of a technical puzzle began to override her emotional turmoil.

"Could I sit down for a second and run a few quick checks?" she asked, already feeling the magnetic pull of the problem.

Jace practically leaped from his chair. "Be my guest. I'd be honored to watch you work."

The moment her fingers touched the keyboard, muscle memory took over. Commands flowed from her fingertips as she navigated through system logs, traced network pathways, and cross-referenced security protocols with the fluid grace of someone who'd spent years mastering these tools.