Chapter 110 Signal in the Stone
The ridge started to narrow as afternoon crept in. Trees thinned, replaced by more rock, jagged and broken. The wind picked up, sharper now, carrying the distant crackle of electricity.
Kade slowed. “We’re close.”
“How close?” Lyra asked.
“Close enough that if you start glowing like a lantern, we’re screwed,” he said.
She tugged her sleeve down over the mark. “I’ll keep it on low.”
Maverick climbed a bit higher onto an outcropping and squinted ahead. “I see it.”
Lyra joined him, bracing her hands against the rock. The relay outpost sat on a plateau carved into the side of the mountain—a squat concrete building with a tall metal tower stabbing up into the clouds. Antennas jutted out at odd angles. A faint red light blinked near the top.
“How many guards?” she asked.
“Can’t see the back,” he said. “Front’s got at least six. Two on the roof, four near the main door. No patrols on the slope, which is stupid.”
“Or arrogant,” Kade said. “No one’s supposed to know this is here.”
Lyra scanned the area. “Any sign of Dax?”
“Not from here,” Maverick said.
Kade closed his eyes, fingers brushing the rock. “He came this way. The ward residue stops near the plateau. After that, it’s all Syndicate static.”
“Meaning he’s inside,” Lyra said.
“Or dead on the floor,” Kade said. “I’m open to either.”
Maverick’s mouth tightened. “If he’s alive, we’re getting him. If he’s dead, we’re getting whatever he carried.”
“Plan?” Lyra asked.
Maverick pointed toward a narrower section of the slope. “We circle around the north face. There’s cover there—boulders and outcroppings. Kade, you jam the external sensors. Lyra, you stay behind until we clear the first wave.”
“I can fight,” she said.
“Yeah, and if you light up, they’ll call in air support before we blink,” he said. “We can’t outrun drones on this terrain.”
She hated that he was right. She hated it more that he knew it.
“Fine,” she said. “But if one of you goes down, I’m not waiting for permission to move.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to,” he said.
They approached low and slow, keeping to the shadows of the rocks. The closer they got, the more the air buzzed — a constant thrum from the tower that made Lyra’s teeth ache. Her mark tingled under her skin, eager and restless.
“Easy,” she muttered to it.
Maverick glanced back. “You talking to your arm again?”
“Maybe.”
“Tell it to keep secrets,” Kade whispered.
They reached a cluster of boulders near the edge of the plateau. From there, they could see the front of the outpost clearly. Two guards paced lazily by the door, rifles slung loose. The roof sentries were more alert, scanning the sky and the tree line.
“Looks quiet,” Kade murmured.
Maverick never took his eyes off the building. “Too quiet.”
“Cliché,” Lyra muttered.
“Still true,” he said.
Kade tapped his wrist unit, and the runes along his forearm flared. “Jamming external sensors now. They’ll still see us with their eyes, but their toys are officially deaf.”
Maverick nodded once. “All right. I’ll take the roof. Kade, you handle the door guards. Lyra—”
“Stay put,” she finished with a sigh. “I know.”
He gave her a look, softer than the words. “I need you alive more than I need you happy right now.”
That shouldn’t have hit as hard as it did. She swallowed. “Then don’t get shot.”
He smirked. “Wasn’t in the plan.”
He moved before she could say anything else, slipping from cover to cover with the kind of quiet that didn’t fit his personality at all. Kade waited for his signal—a flick of fingers from the shadows of a vent along the building’s side.
Then everything happened fast.
Maverick scaled the outer wall like he’d done it a thousand times, fingers finding cracks in the concrete. The first roof guard never saw him coming. One quick strike, one silent fall. The second turned, too slow. A brief struggle, a muffled grunt, and he went down too, weapon skittering across the rooftop.
Kade stepped into the open as soon as the second guard fell. The two at the door snapped their rifles up.
“Stop right there!” one barked.
Kade raised his empty hands. “Hey, easy. I’m lost. Is this the scenic overlook?”
They didn’t laugh. Obviously.
Lyra tensed, hand hovering near her knife.
The first guard took a step forward—then his rifle jerked sideways, tugged by a sudden gust of wind that hadn’t been there a second before. The second guard stumbled as the same gust slammed into his chest, knocking him off balance.
Kade’s eyes glowed bright blue. He twisted his hand.
The wind obeyed.
Both guards hit the concrete hard, weapons torn from their hands. Kade darted forward, knocking one out with the butt of a stolen rifle and kicking the other’s legs out when he tried to rise.
Maverick dropped down from the roof to join him. “Show-off.”
“Look who’s talking,” Kade shot back.
Lyra moved then, sprinting across the open ground to meet them. “Inside, fast. Before anyone calls for help.”
Maverick grabbed a fallen guard’s ID chip and slapped it against the door panel. The lock clicked open.
They slipped inside.
🔥🔥🔥
The interior smelled like recycled air and machine oil. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, flickering in an irregular rhythm that made Lyra’s head ache. The hallway was narrow, lined with closed doors and a faint hum from cables hidden in the walls.
“Prisoners first,” she said. “Then relay room.”
“Agreed,” Maverick said.
Kade tapped his wrist unit again. A faint hologram flickered above it, showing a crude layout of the station. “Holding cells are on the lower level. Relays on the top. Dax could be at either.”
Lyra frowned. “Why the lower level for cells?”
“Less structural damage if something goes wrong,” Kade said. “And easier to flood with gas if they revolt.”
She grimaced. “Charming.”
Maverick nodded down the hall. “Cells first. If he’s transmitting, we’ll hear it before we see it.”
They moved in a tight formation, boots making barely any sound on the metal floor. The station felt… empty. Too empty.
Lyra’s mark tingled again. “I don’t like this.”
“Me neither,” Maverick said quietly.
They reached a stairwell and descended. The air grew cooler, the lights dimmer. At the bottom, a reinforced door sat half-open, a dim red light blinking above it.
Kade paused, listening. “Someone was here recently. The wards in the stone are still vibrating.”
They pushed the door open.
The cell block was small—three cells on either side, all visible from the central aisle. Most were empty. One still held a figure slumped in the corner, chained to the wall.