Chapter 8 - The Reserve Station
The naval reserve station was a gray, concrete blockhouse surrounded by a rusted chain-link fence, sitting at the edge of the abandoned shipyard. The cold wind from the harbor howled through the empty slips, carrying the scent of dead fish and low-grade diesel fuel.
Lily Parker slipped through a tear in the fence like a shadow. Her blue scrubs had been replaced by a dark grey jumpsuit she had borrowed from Dr. Aris's supply closet, and her auburn hair was tucked tightly beneath a black wool cap.
She reached the back door of the building. It was secured by a heavy, mechanical keypad locks—the kind that were standard-issue for military installations in the late nineties.
She pulled a small, battery-operated diagnostic tool from her pocket, hooking the leads to the terminal beneath the key housing. Within thirty seconds, the display flashed green. The lock clicked open with a heavy, satisfying thud.
The interior of the station was pitch black, smelling of damp paper and old grease. Lily moved through the hallways with absolute silence, her eyes scanning the corners for any sign of motion sensors or cameras.
She reached the main communications room. A long console of green steel stood in the center of the room, its monitors dark and dead.
She sat at the terminal and flipped the main power switch on the side of the desk. The monitors flickered to life, casting a cold, green glow over her face.
She inserted the encrypted thumb drive Caleb had given her. The screen immediately prompted her for a security protocol.
ENTER DEPLOYMENT CODE:
Lily's fingers hovered over the keyboard. She knew this code. It was the sequence she had been forced to memorize during her final days in Karachi—the code that had been assigned to her unit before the compound was overrun.
04-22-11-09.
She hit enter.
The screen flashed blue, and a long list of file directories began to populate the screen. Cargo manifests, container numbers, destination coordinates... and a folder labeled PROJECT SPARROW.
Lily felt her heart stop. She clicked on the folder.
Inside were the medical files and personal profiles of twelve young female operatives, all of whom had been listed as "KIA" or "Missing" during the Karachi deployment.
And at the bottom of the list was her own name.
PARKER, LILY. STATUS: TERMINATED.
"They didn't leave you behind, Lily," a cold, familiar voice spoke from the darkness behind her. "They sold you."
Lily didn't spin around. She slowly closed her eyes, her hand resting on the console as she felt the cold barrel of a weapon press against the back of her neck.
"Dr. Concincaid," she said quietly, her voice devoid of any emotion.
"I must admit, I was impressed by your performance in the laundry room," Concincaid said, his voice carrying a dry, professional amusement. He stepped into the green light of the terminal, holding a silenced semi-automatic pistol. "The Sparrow program always did produce the finest assets. It’s a shame the Navy had to budget-cut the division. But fortunately, the private sector is much more appreciative of your talents."
"You were the broker," Lily said, her eyes locked on her own file on the monitor. "You were the one who leaked the compound coordinates to the militia."
"Business is business, Lily," Concincaid smiled. "The Karachi docks are a very busy place, and young women with military-grade intelligence training are highly sought after by certain overseas clients. But then Caleb Ror had to survive his retirement and start digging into the old shipping manifests. He was a nuisance. And you... you were supposed to be the perfect scapegoat."
May you like
"It's over, Concincaid," Lily said, her hand slowly moving toward the 'SEND' key on the keyboard. "The files are already queued. One touch, and they go directly to the naval intelligence network."
"Go ahead," Concincaid sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger. "And I'll put a bullet through your spine before the upload hits one percent."
