Ice flooded my veins, but I crushed the panic before it could take root. A commander who panics gets her soldiers killed.
The mission, the VP, even the Scrambler itself—they were all secondary now. The primary objective had changed: get my agent out. The penalty for failure was not an option.
Oracle, analyse the plates. Now, I commanded, my text sharp and devoid of emotion.Find a flaw.
Working on it, Mark's reply was tight with stress.
They're hyper-sensitive, calibrated to detect a specific weight range. It's a closed loop, I can't disable it without tripping the main alarm.
Don't disable it. Find a loophole, I pressed.
Through our bond, I could feel Leo's rising panic, his breath catching in his throat. I sent him a private command, a single word that cut through his fear: Breathe.
I felt his anxiety spike, then steady, held in check by the absolute authority of my order. He was trapped, but he was not alone.
Got something! Oracle's text flashed, a beacon of hope in the digital darkness.
It's insane, but it might work. The plates have a diagnostic and recalibration routine. I can trigger it from the environmental network.
It will deactivate the sensors for a three-second window while it recalibrate. But triggering a diagnostic will send a low-level maintenance alert to the security hub.
They might ignore it... or they might send a guard to check.
It was a gamble. A low-level alert versus a high-level silent alarm. I'd take those odds every time.
There's another problem, Oracle added, his digital thoughts racing. The Scrambler. It's in a sub-floor vault. I can't open it, but I can see its power relay.
I can overload it. It should trigger an emergency eject to prevent the device from being damaged.
The pieces clicked into place. A new, desperate, and beautiful plan formed in the space of a heartbeat.
Listen carefully, all of you, I typed to the group channel, my mind a whirlwind of precise calculation.
This will be about timing. Down to the millisecond. Oracle, on my mark, you will overload the vault relay.
The instant the Scrambler is ejected, Ghost, you grab it. Oracle, the moment he has it, you trigger the plate diagnostic.
Ghost, you will have three seconds to get off the plates and back to the door. Move the instant you have the device.
But the laser grid is still active behind me! Leo's text was a flash of panic. My skill is still on cooldown!
The grid is powered by the same secondary network, I typed, my mind already several steps ahead. Oracle, can you cause a flicker? A brownout on the emitters?
I can divert power to the HVAC blowers for a fraction of a second,Mark replied, his genius rising to the occasion. It should cause the lasers to flicker. Maybe a one-second gap, if I time it right. But I can't hold it.
You won't have to, I assured them. Ghost, this is your new path. Oracle will give you a one-second window in the laser grid. You will run. Do you understand?
I could feel his terror through our bond, but it was now overlaid with a surge of adrenaline-fuelled resolve. He wasn't a scared kid anymore.
He was an operative with a mission. I understand.
Havoc, be ready, I sent to Jake. This could still go loud.
Ready to make some noise, Boss.
I took a breath, my eyes glued to the blueprint on my screen, to the single blinking dot that was my agent. I was a conductor about to lead a symphony of impossible timing, and my orchestra was ready.
Oracle... Mark One. The overload.
Copy.
Ghost... Mark Two. The grab.
Copy.
Oracle... Mark Three. The diagnostic and the flicker.
Copy.
All units... Execute on my command.I watched the second hand on my datapad's chronometer, the world narrowing to this single, critical moment.
THREE... TWO... ONE... MARK!
The sequence of texts on my screen was a blur of perfect, desperate execution.
Oracle: RELAY OVERLOADED.
A soft thud echoed through Leo's comms as the Scrambler, encased in a protective field, shot back up onto its pedestal.
Ghost: I HAVE IT.
Oracle: DIAGNOSTIC TRIGGERED! PLATES ARE DEAD FOR THREE... TWO...
Oracle: DIVERTING POWER... NOW!
In the clean room, Leo didn't think. He acted. He snatched the silvery device, spun on his heel, and sprinted. The red lattice on the floor vanished.
The dense grid of crimson lasers flickered, and for a single, heart-stopping second, a man-sized gap appeared in the wall of light. Leo dove through it, a smoky wraith clearing the last laser just as the grid solidified behind him with a sharp hiss.
He hit the floor, rolled to dissipate the momentum, and was on his feet, the Scrambler clutched to his chest like a newborn. He was out of the trap. He was safe.
I'm clear! he texted, his message radiating pure, unadulterated triumph.
A wave of relief so potent it almost made me dizzy washed over me. I looked at my team's loyalty scores. Mark's and Jake's had jumped twenty points. Leo's was a solid, unwavering 100.
Good work, Ghost,I typed, allowing a sliver of my own relief to bleed into the words. Now get out of there. Rendezvous with Maya at the extraction point.
The rest of the exfiltration was tense but clean. Leo slipped back out of the building, melting into the shadows where Maya was waiting.
They made it to Jake's nondescript van and disappeared into the city's traffic just as a single, bored-looking security guard ambled down the hall to check on the low-level maintenance alert, finding nothing but silence.
Back in my command centre, I leaned back, the tension finally draining from my body, leaving a profound sense of victory in its wake.
I looked at the Scrambler, now visible via Leo's suit-cam, a humming trophy from our first true heist. We had faced an impossible situation, an unseen trap, and we hadn't just survived.
We had adapted. We had overcome. We had won.
This was the night my pawns truly became my team. This was the night they proved they were more than just tools; they were extensions of my will, capable of executing complex strategies under unimaginable pressure.
And I knew, with absolute certainty, that Maya was going to have a hell of a time drawing this chapter.
The "Heist of the Ghost" would make a thrilling new entry in The Villainess Archives, further cementing our legend.
Somewhere out there, the hunter was searching for a ghost, completely unaware that her army was levelling up right under his nose.