Liam adjusted the thin, dark glove on his hand. The silence was absolute, save for the faint whir of the patrol car that had just disappeared around the far side of the compound. They had three minutes.
"Move," Liam commanded, already sprinting low towards the junction box.
Evelyn followed, staying strictly in the deep shadows cast by the rock outcroppings. Her heart hammered against her ribs, not just from the exertion, but from the raw exposure. Every sense was heightened; she could smell the dry dust and hear the faint, high-pitched electrical hum of the fence.
Liam reached the junction box and pulled a small, specialized tool from his pack. He didn't try to disable the primary power; he inserted the tool into a secondary circuit, initiating the controlled, localized electromagnetic pulse (EMP) designed to target only low-voltage, non-essential systems—specifically, the security cameras and microphones aimed at the terrace.
He whispered into his comms, "Thirty seconds, starting... now."
The junction box gave a faint pop, and the subtle downlights illuminating the perimeter near the terrace flickered and died. The silent alarm systems remained active, but the eyes and ears focused on Dr. Vance's private area were temporarily blind.
"Go," Liam instructed, handing Evelyn the laser penlight. "You have one attempt to get the code across. I'll maintain cover."
Evelyn crept forward to the nearest point of concealment, a sharp granite ridge that provided a clear, if narrow, line of sight to the terrace. She leveled the penlight, steadying her trembling hands against the rock.
Dr. Elias Vance was exactly where they'd seen him, still sitting alone, staring into the darkness. He seemed unaware of the slight change in the lighting near his terrace.
Evelyn took a deep breath and began the coded sequence, focusing the invisible laser beam directly onto the window ledge near Vance's chair.
Flash. Pause. Flash-Flash. (C-U-R-E)
Pause.
Flash-Flash. Pause. Flash-Flash. (S-I-L-E-N-C-E)
Pause.
Flash. Flash-Flash. (A-R-I-S)
It felt like an eternity. Evelyn held her breath, her eyes locked on Vance. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. The signal was clean, but she had no way of knowing if he had seen the subtle, silent flicker.
Eight seconds left.
Evelyn was about to give up when Vance performed a simple, almost imperceptible action: he shifted his weight, and his left hand, resting on the arm of his chair, slowly tapped his thumb against his index finger—three quick taps.
Affirmative.
Evelyn sagged against the rock, relief making her momentarily weak. The signal was received.
"Time's up," Liam's voice crackled. "The pulse is failing. Get back!"
Evelyn retracted the laser pen and scrambled back toward Liam. As she reached him, the lights near the terrace snapped back on with a sudden, jarring brightness.
"Did you see the hand signal?" Evelyn asked urgently.
"Confirmed," Liam said, already moving them away from the junction box and back toward the high ground. "Three taps. He's aware and he's willing to engage."
They retreated quickly into the anonymity of the desert, putting distance between themselves and the compound.
Once they were several hundred yards away, Liam stopped, scanning the perimeter with his binoculars. "Vance knows. Now the real problem starts. He can't talk on the phone, and he can't walk out. He has to find a way to meet us."
"He's a scientist. He'll find a way to communicate a time and place," Evelyn said, feeling a surge of hope. "We need to set up a listening post. Something he can safely ping."
Liam shook his head. "Thorne's not stupid. Vance's comms are compromised. If Vance tries to send a message digitally, Thorne will know he's been activated. The code worked because it was unexpected and analog."
He turned to Evelyn, his face grave in the darkness. "Vance has to use a similar analog method to tell us when. Something that only we would be looking for. And given the size of this property, it has to be public, but deniable."
Evelyn thought back to the terrace, the vast, empty sky, and the astronomical equipment Vance was supposedly working with.
"Astrobiology," Evelyn whispered, the pieces clicking into place. "He's watching the sky. He's going to use his research as a mask. He's going to broadcast a word into the universe, but only we will be listening for it."
The silent battle had just begun, and the next piece of communication would require them to interpret the deepest, most concealed aspect of the unhappy man's life.