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"You shoot left. I shoot right. Miss, and I put you down myself."
Kane shoved me behind the broken ventilation unit just as the next burst of gunfire tore across the roof.
Rounds punched through metal. Sparks snapped against my cheek. I hit the concrete hard, my shoulder screaming, while Kane dropped beside me with his rifle braced against the unit.
"You don't get to give me orders," I snapped.
"Then keep standing up and die on your own."
Another burst chewed through the edge of the unit. Kane caught the back of my jacket and dragged me lower. His chest hit my shoulder. Heat pressed through both our armor layers, close enough that I felt every sharp breath he took.
I elbowed him in the ribs.
He didn't even grunt. "That was your warning."
"Try touching me again and you'll need both hands to hold your gun."
"Cute."
The searchlight swept over the roof.
White glare slammed across us. For half a second, I saw the whole block below—the collapsed rooftops, the neon signs blinking through smoke, the streets packed with people running from the corporate gunship circling overhead.
Then the light passed.
Kane fired.
His rifle kicked against his shoulder. One drone above the roof burst apart, showering the concrete with black fragments.
My combat overlay flashed red across my vision.
[THREAT LOCK: 3 HOSTILES] [NEURAL LINK INSTABILITY: 82%] [OVERCLOCK AVAILABLE]
"You have three on the east ledge," I said.
Kane glanced at me. "You can see through walls now?"
"No. Your link is feeding me their heat signatures. Try not to sound jealous."
"I don't get jealous."
"You get shot, though."
I leaned around the unit and fired twice. The first round missed. The second caught a soldier in the visor. He dropped behind the ledge.
Kane's jaw tightened. "You waste ammunition."
"You waste people. We all have hobbies."
The third soldier rose behind us.
I saw him through Kane's eyes before he moved. A black-armored figure lifted a shock baton over Kane's head. My body reacted before my brain caught up. I grabbed Kane by the collar and yanked him backward.
The baton cracked into the ventilation unit where his skull had been.
Kane turned on me, one hand closing around my wrist. His glove locked tight enough to hurt.
"Behind you," I hissed.
The soldier swung again.
Kane twisted, dragging me with him. We moved as one ugly, tangled piece. His knife flashed under the soldier's arm. The soldier staggered. I jammed my pistol against the gap in his armor and pulled the trigger.
The impact threw him over the roof edge.
Kane still had my wrist.
I still had a fist twisted in his jacket.
For one breath, we stood too close. His face was inches from mine. Smoke had darkened the sharp lines of his cheekbones, and a thin cut ran from his temple to his jaw. Blood slid along his skin and disappeared beneath his collar.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, then lifted again.
I hated that I noticed.
"Let go," I said.
"You first."
"I was here first."
"That isn't how hands work."
"You always this annoying when people are shooting at you?"
"Only when they miss."
The gunship fired again.
The roof jumped beneath our boots. The ventilation unit split open. Kane slammed into me, and we crashed through a maintenance door that had been half torn from its hinges.
We hit a narrow stairwell.
I landed on top of him. His rifle clattered down the steps. My pistol stayed pressed under his chin.
His hand was already around the small of my back, holding me steady. Not gentle. Not careless either.
The neural link surged.
My pulse slammed into my chest.
Then his pulse answered from the same place.
For one sick second, I felt his heartbeat as if it were mine—slow, controlled, almost unnaturally calm beneath the explosion noise.
Kane's fingers tightened against my back.
"Get off me," he said.
"You first."
"Your gun is on my throat."
"And your hand is on my back. Seems fair."
His stare sharpened. "Vera."
The way he said my name was low and warning. It should have made me pull away. Instead, the sound ran through the link and made my knees go weak for half a beat.
I shoved away from him.
"Don't say it like that."
Kane rolled to his feet and snatched his rifle from the stairs. "Like what?"
"Like you own it."
"I own the fact that you're still alive."
"You didn't save me. You needed the core intact."
"Those are not different things right now."
The stairwell shook again. Dust dropped from the ceiling. A warning icon blinked at the edge of my vision.
[NEURAL LINK INSTABILITY: 88%] [PAIN FEEDBACK ACTIVE] [CORE EXTRACTION: FATAL]
Kane saw the display reflected in my eyes. His expression went flat.
"How long?" he asked.
"How long for what?"
"Before the link cooks you."
"Ask the company. They built the murder box."
"I'm asking you."
"Then ask better."
He stepped closer. The stairwell was too narrow for distance. His shoulder brushed mine as he reached past me and slammed the emergency hatch shut.
The metal door rattled under a fresh burst of fire.
Kane planted one palm beside my head. His face was close again, his breath warm against my ear.
"We have maybe eight minutes before they breach the roof and seal the lower exits," he said. "The core is syncing with your spinal relay. If your pulse spikes too high, it will dump charge into your motor cortex."
"That sounds bad."
"It kills you."
"You could've led with that."
"You don't listen when I lead with anything."
"Because you keep trying to murder me."
"That order changed."
"When?"
His eyes held mine. "When the gunship targeted me."
A heavy impact struck the hatch. The metal bowed inward.
Kane pulled me down the stairs.
"Move."
"Where?"
"Sewer access."
"That's your plan? Hide in a pipe?"
"Do you have a better one?"
"Several. None involve following a corporate butcher into sewage."
"Then keep talking while you run."
He grabbed my hand.
I tried to yank free, but the link flashed hot through my wrist and up my arm. Pain shot behind my eyes. Kane stopped immediately.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"You pulled against the link."
"I pulled against you. There's a difference."
"Not anymore."
He let go slowly. Our fingers separated, but the sensation of his grip stayed behind. My palm tingled. His pulse beat in my chest again, steady and irritatingly close.
The hatch above screamed as another charge hit it.
Kane looked up. "We run together or we die separately. Pick."
I hated the choice because he knew I had no real one.
"Fine," I said. "But if you drag me, I break your nose."
"Aim higher."
"Don't tempt me."
We ran.
The stairs ended at a service tunnel packed with old pipes and cable trays. Emergency lights flickered along the walls. Kane moved fast, rifle raised, every step measured. I followed with my pistol out, covering the angles he couldn't see.
The link kept feeding me pieces of him. A pull in my left shoulder when he noticed movement. A spike of cold focus when he heard a weapon being charged. The faint burn of an old scar along his ribs whenever he twisted.
I hated knowing any of it.
"Your left side is damaged," I said.
"No."
"Your breathing changed."
"Your breathing is worse."
"I didn't ask about mine."
"You don't have to. The link is screaming it."
A red targeting beam slid across the far wall.
Kane shoved me into a recess between two pipes. His body came in behind mine, pinning me against the cold metal. His arm crossed my chest, not squeezing, just holding me below the beam.
His mouth was near my temple.
"Three soldiers," he whispered. "Wait."
"I can take three."
"No, you can panic and overclock. That's different."
"I am not panicking."
"Your heart says otherwise."
"Stop listening to it."
"Stop broadcasting."
Boots struck the tunnel floor.
Kane's hand shifted from my shoulder to my waist. His glove covered the side of my jacket, firm and warm despite the cold metal behind me. The contact dragged my attention away from the soldiers and straight to the link.
His pulse thumped against mine.
One of the soldiers stopped just beyond the pipe.
"Cross!" the soldier called. "Corporate recovery team. Stand down and surrender the asset."
Kane's mouth brushed close to my ear, not touching. "When I move, hit the light panel."
"Then what?"
"Trust me."
"I'd rather eat the sewer."
"You may get your chance."
The soldier stepped forward.
Kane moved.
I slammed my palm into the light panel. The tunnel dropped into darkness. The soldier fired at the wrong spot. Kane's rifle answered once, twice, three times.
I fired toward the muzzle flashes.
Someone yelled.
A body hit the pipes. Another soldier rushed through the dark, and I caught the shape by the shoulder. He drove me into the wall. His helmet knocked my jaw. My pistol flew from my hand.
"Got her," he barked.
"Not even close," I said.
I drove my knee into his thigh and hooked my boot behind his ankle. He stumbled. I grabbed the front of his armor and slammed his helmet into the pipe.
Once.
Twice.
The soldier's grip loosened.
Kane appeared behind him and fired into the floor beside my boot. The shot ricocheted up through the soldier's knee plate. He dropped with a scream.
"You could've hit me," I said.
"I didn't."
"That isn't an apology."
"It wasn't meant to be."
He kicked my pistol toward me. I caught it and rolled behind a cable box.
The last soldier fired from the far end of the tunnel. Kane ducked behind a pipe column. I leaned out and shot at the ceiling above the soldier.
The bullet cracked a rusted valve.
Steam exploded across the tunnel.
The soldier cursed and stumbled blind. Kane crossed the gap in three steps, slammed the rifle stock into his chest, and drove him into the wall.
"Who sent the gunship?" Kane demanded.
The soldier laughed through his mask. "You really don't know?"
Kane pressed the rifle under his jaw. "Talk."
"They marked both of you for deletion."
"Who signed it?"
The soldier's eyes flicked toward me.
That was enough to make Kane look too.
The soldier used the opening. He pulled a blade from his belt and drove it toward Kane's side.
I caught his wrist.
The knife stopped less than an inch from Kane's ribs.
Kane stared at the blade, then at me.
"You just saved my life," he said.
"Don't make it weird."
"I wasn't."
"Your face was."
I twisted the soldier's wrist until the knife clattered away. Kane hit him hard enough to drop him for good.
The link spiked.
My vision fractured into white lines. His pain hit me at the same time—the bruised ribs, the cut at his temple, the burn in his left shoulder. I staggered and grabbed the pipe.
Kane caught my elbow.
"Vera. Look at me."
"Get your hand off."
"Look at me."
"I said—"
"Look at me."
His voice cut through the noise.
I forced my eyes up.
He was close enough that I could see the tiny flecks of gold around his pupils. Not the cold machine eyes the sector feeds talked about. Human eyes. Angry ones.
"Count," he said.
"What?"
"Count your breaths."
"You think counting fixes a military core?"
"No. But it gives your brain something to do besides fry itself. Count."
His thumb pressed against the inside of my elbow. The touch was controlled, almost clinical. It still made my pulse jump.
"One," I said.
"Again."
"Two."
"Slower."
"You really enjoy bossing me around."
"Three."
"I was counting."
"You were arguing."
"I can multitask."
The pain eased by a fraction.
Kane's shoulders lowered. He noticed. Of course he noticed.
"There," he said. "Keep doing that."
"Don't sound proud."
"I'm not proud. I'm surprised."
"That almost sounded like a compliment."
"Don't get used to it."
The tunnel lights snapped back on.
A small red camera above us turned toward Kane.
He saw it a second after I did.
"They've got eyes in here," I said.
"I know."
"You knew?"
"I built the security grid."
"You built this sewer?"
"I built the system watching it."
"And you didn't think to shut it off?"
"I didn't have access."
"You're the company's favorite killer."
"Was."
His answer came too fast.
I caught the word. "Was?"
Kane raised his rifle toward the camera and fired. The lens burst.
"Move," he said.
"You don't get to drop one word like that and walk away."
"Watch me."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"Liar."
He turned back. "You want the truth? Keep up."
We pushed deeper into the service tunnel.
The floor sloped down. Black water rushed around our boots. The air turned hot and foul, thick with chemical stink and old waste. I covered my nose with my sleeve.
Kane didn't slow.
"You could've mentioned the sewer was full," I said.
"You could've stayed on the roof."
"I would have, but your friends brought a gunship."
"Not my friends."
"You keep saying that like your entire career wasn't shooting people for them."
His head turned slightly. "You know a lot about my career."
"Your face is on every bounty board in Sector 9."
"Then you know the price on me."
"High enough to clear my brother's debt."
Kane stopped.
The water pushed against our legs. Somewhere behind us, metal doors slammed open.
His gaze locked onto mine. "You considered selling me?"
"I considered selling your boots. You'd be worth more alive, but I didn't have time to negotiate."
"You had time to think about it."
"I think about money when people point guns at me. It's a survival skill."
"Your brother."
"Don't say his name."
"I don't know his name."
"Good. Keep it that way."
"The debt is registered under your identity. Medical account. Private clinic. Six hundred thousand credits."
My grip tightened around the pistol.
"You hacked the debt registry?"
"I read it."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to know what would make you run toward a classified military core instead of away from it."
"You think you know me because you read a number?"
"I know you took a contract that had a ninety-seven percent fatality estimate."
"And you still came after me."
"I was sent to recover the core."
"You were sent to kill me."
"Both statements are true."
The sound behind us grew louder. Boots. Drones. Something heavier scraping along the tunnel wall.
Kane's weapon rose.
"Enough. We move now."
"Say it."
"Say what?"
"That you came to kill me. Not recover the core. Me."
His mouth tightened. "I came to put a bullet through your head if extraction wasn't possible."
The words hit harder than they should have.
The link carried the shift in him. A rough pulse. Regret, maybe. Or irritation that I had forced him to say it aloud.
I stepped closer until the muzzle of my pistol touched his chest armor.
"And now?"
His eyes lowered to the weapon, then returned to mine.
"Now I need you breathing."
"That isn't the same as wanting me alive."
"Don't make me explain the difference while we're being hunted."
"You don't explain anything. You just grab, shoot, and pretend the rest of us are slow."
"You're not slow. You're reckless."
"You like reckless."
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
For the first time, Kane's control cracked. His gaze held mine too long. His thumb flexed against the rifle grip.
"You don't know what I like," he said.
His voice was quieter now.
The water moved around our boots. The link carried his heartbeat into my chest, and mine into his. Neither of us looked away.
Then a drone rounded the bend.
Kane grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down.
I fired over his shoulder. He fired under my arm. The drone burst in a spray of sparks and hot fragments.
"You touched me again," I said.
"You can complain after we live."
"I can do both."
More drones poured into the tunnel.
Kane shoved me behind a support pillar. "Cover the right."
"You said left before."
"The tunnel changed."
"Tunnels don't change."
"Then stop arguing with me and look."
Three red lasers cut through the steam.
I fired at the first. Kane fired at the second. The third ducked behind a pipe and launched a shock charge.
Kane saw it.
He threw himself in front of me.
The charge detonated against his back.
The link screamed.
His pain tore through my nerves. I felt the blast in my own spine. My knees buckled. The pistol slipped from my hand.
"Kane!"
He dropped to one knee but kept his rifle up.
"I'm fine."
"You are absolutely not fine."
"Shoot the drone."
"You just took a shock charge."
"Shoot. The. Drone."
I picked up my pistol and fired until the tunnel went quiet.
The last drone fell into the water beside Kane.
He stayed crouched, one hand braced against the wall. His breathing came rough now. The link carried every strained inhale straight into me.
I grabbed his vest and pulled him upright.
"You took that for me."
"I took it because the core can't survive another overload."
"You keep hiding behind the core."
"It's a useful shield."
"You're bleeding."
"So are you."
I touched the side of my neck. My fingers came away red. The wound from the roof had opened again, and the heat beneath it had spread down toward my shoulder.
Kane stared at the blood.
His expression changed.
Not fear. He was too controlled for that.
But the link gave him away.
His pulse jumped hard enough that I felt it under my own ribs.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"You looked at me like I grew another head."
"The core's access port is bleeding."
"That sounds like a you problem."
"It becomes a me problem if the link fails."
"Why?"
He didn't answer.
I shoved him against the wall. The rifle slipped lower, but he didn't raise it at me. His hands landed on either side of my waist, stopping me without pushing me away.
"Why?" I demanded.
His breath touched my cheek. "Because the link is anchored in both of us."
"I know that."
"No, you know the surface."
"Then explain the part you kept hidden."
"If your core shuts down, mine does too."
The tunnel seemed to tighten around us.
"Your core?"
"The neural bridge. The command implant. Call it whatever helps you sleep."
"You have military hardware in your spine too?"
"Not the same kind."
"How convenient."
"I didn't plan this."
"You planned everything else."
His hands stayed at my waist. I could feel the pressure through my jacket. He could have thrown me aside. Instead, he held me there, pinned but not trapped enough to stop me from leaving.
That made it worse.
"Tell me the whole truth," I said.
"Not here."
"Then I'll break your nose here."
"You already threatened that."
"I meant it more this time."
A siren pulsed somewhere above us.
Kane looked past me toward the dark tunnel. "The recovery team is closing in. We have one route left."
"And if I refuse?"
"I carry you."
"Try it."
"I will."
His fingers tightened once at my waist.
The contact sent a hot pulse through the neural link. My breath caught. Kane felt it. His gaze dropped to my lips again.
I pushed two fingers against his throat.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you forgot I'm the person you were sent to kill."
His eyes returned to mine. "I haven't forgotten."
"Good."
"That's the problem."
Before I could answer, the floor collapsed beneath us.
Kane caught my arm.
I caught his jacket.
The concrete gave way in a roaring sheet, and we dropped into black water.
I hit first. The impact drove the breath from my lungs. Filthy water closed over my head. Something hard struck my hip. My pistol tore free.
Kane landed beside me, and the link exploded with pain.
I couldn't tell which body was mine.
Hands grabbed my jacket. Kane hauled me upward. I broke the surface choking and slammed into a concrete channel wall.
"Breathe," he ordered.
"Stop—ordering—"
"Breathe, Vera."
He hooked one arm around my ribs and kept me above the rushing water. His other hand held the rifle above the surface.
I coughed hard enough to see stars.
"You dropped the gun," he said.
"I noticed."
"Can you swim?"
"Can you shut up?"
"That's a yes."
The current dragged us into a circular sewer junction. Three tunnels opened around us. Behind one, the recovery team shouted. Above us, the broken floor framed a slice of burning roof and moving searchlights.
Kane shoved us toward the left tunnel.
"This way."
"Why?"
"The right line ends at a flood gate. The center is monitored."
"And the left?"
"Drops into the old overflow system."
"That sounds terrible."
"It is."
He pushed off the wall.
I grabbed his vest before the current could pull us apart. His body jerked back against mine. For a second, my face pressed into the side of his neck. Heat. Wet fabric. The sharp edge of his collar against my cheek.
His hand closed over mine.
Neither of us moved.
Then a burst of gunfire struck the water behind us.
Kane dragged me into the left tunnel.
The current slammed us through darkness. Pipes scraped my shoulders. Kane kept one arm around me while he used the other to steer us around broken supports. Every time I slipped, he caught me. Every time he lost his balance, I pulled him back.
"You can let go," I gasped.
"No."
"Afraid I'll drown without you?"
"Afraid you'll overload without warning."
"You worry too much for a man who wanted me dead."
"You talk too much for someone who needs air."
"You noticed."
A metal grate appeared ahead.
Kane twisted and fired at the lock. The shot flashed inside the tunnel. The grate swung open, and the current shoved us through.
We dropped again.
This time, Kane landed on his feet in knee-deep muck and caught me before I went under. We crashed against the side of the overflow chamber. His rifle pointed at my chest. My empty hand locked around his wrist.
We both froze.
His face was inches from mine. Water ran from his hair down the side of his face. His breath came hot and ragged. My hand was wrapped around his wrist, right over his pulse.
The link had gone almost silent.
Not calm.
Overloaded.
His pulse thudded beneath my fingers. Mine answered through the connection.
"Still planning to kill me?" I asked.
"Yes."
"You sound unsure."
"I'm not."
"Then why are you shaking?"
His gaze sharpened. "I'm not."
"Your hand is."
"It's the shock charge."
"Liar."
He stepped closer, forcing my back against the chamber wall. Mud shifted under our boots. His rifle remained between us, but the barrel had lowered enough that it no longer touched me.
"You want honesty?" he said.
"For once."
"I want you alive until I understand what they put in you."
"That is not honesty. That's a mission report."
"I want you alive because if you die, I die with you. Better?"
The words landed between us.
I could feel his heartbeat in my chest. I could feel my own in his.
"There it is," I whispered. "The part you were hiding."
"Don't sound pleased."
"I'm not pleased. I'm deciding whether to use it."
"You will."
"You know me so well."
"I know people who are cornered. They bite whoever stands closest."
"And you keep standing close."
His eyes flicked over my face. "You keep pulling me back."
I had no answer for that.
A weapon clicked somewhere behind us.
Kane's expression changed instantly. He shoved me down and turned into the muzzle flash.
The shot hit his shoulder.
He staggered but stayed upright. I grabbed a length of broken pipe from the muck and swung it into the attacker's knee. The soldier dropped. Kane finished him with the butt of his rifle.
The chamber filled with the metallic stink of blood and sewer water.
Kane pressed his hand to his shoulder.
"That's twice," I said.
"Count better."
"You keep stepping in front of bullets."
"You keep standing where bullets go."
"Maybe stop following me."
"You first."
He tried to move.
His knee buckled.
I caught him before he fell.
"You're hurt worse than you're pretending."
"I'm functional."
"Your arm is leaking through the armor."
"Still functional."
"And your breathing?"
"Annoyed."
"That's not a medical category."
"It is in my experience."
I pulled his arm over my shoulders. He was heavier than he looked, all hard muscle and dead weight. His chest pressed against my side as we moved through the muck.
"Don't get comfortable," I said.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
"Your hand is on my hip."
"I'm using you for balance."
"Use the wall."
"The wall doesn't move."
"Maybe the wall has better manners."
"The wall also doesn't shoot people."
"You don't know that."
A faint laugh escaped him.
It surprised both of us.
The sound vanished fast, buried under the distant search sirens.
We reached a maintenance ladder at the far side of the chamber. Kane lifted his rifle and scanned the upper hatch.
"Clear?" I asked.
"No."
"How many?"
"Two above. Maybe more beyond the door."
"Can you climb?"
"Can you stop asking questions you already know the answer to?"
"No."
"Then yes."
He shoved the rifle into his sling and started up. His injured arm barely moved. I climbed behind him, one hand gripping his belt whenever the ladder shook.
At the hatch, Kane paused.
"When it opens, stay behind me."
"You don't have to keep saying that."
"You don't have to keep ignoring it."
"If I stay behind you, I can't cover you."
"You can't cover me if you're dead."
"You really like that argument."
"Because you keep giving me reasons to use it."
He pushed the hatch open.
A rifle fired.
Kane slammed it shut and pulled me down the ladder. The bullet punched through the metal above our heads.
"Two?" I asked.
"Four."
"You said two."
"I was being optimistic."
"You? Optimistic?"
"Don't make me regret saving you."
He dropped back into the chamber and grabbed the broken pipe.
"What are you doing?"
"Opening another way out."
"With a pipe?"
"With the explosive charge on this pipe."
He pointed to a small device clipped beneath the metal grip. Corporate breaching gear. Compact. Ugly. Expensive.
"You carry explosives now?"
"I carry solutions."
"That's a bomb."
"You say that like it's a criticism."
Kane jammed the charge against the chamber wall and set the timer.
"How long?"
"Ten seconds."
"You could've said that first."
He grabbed my hand.
This time, I didn't fight him.
The link flared as our palms met. His thoughts weren't words, but I felt the same thing he did: the narrow ledge above the overflow line, the weak support wall, the blast path, the chance of both of us being crushed.
"You know this is a terrible plan," I said.
"It's the only one."
"I hate when you say that."
"You hate most things I say."
"Not all of them."
His eyes cut toward me.
The timer hit three.
I pulled him closer. "Don't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're trying to figure out whether I meant it."
"Did you?"
The charge beeped.
"Move!" Kane shouted.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and threw us toward the opposite wall.
The blast punched through the chamber.
Concrete burst apart. Mud and water exploded around us. I hit the ground under Kane, his body shielding mine as chunks of wall hammered his back.
The link slammed into red.
[NEURAL LINK INSTABILITY: 96%] [PAIN FEEDBACK MAXIMUM] [OVERCLOCK FAILURE IN 00:07:12]
Seven minutes.
Maybe less.
Kane pushed himself up.
"Get off me," I rasped.
"You complain too much."
"You weigh too much."
"You hit like a pipe."
"That was a compliment."
"It wasn't."
He rolled away. I dragged myself through the broken wall into a narrow drainage channel. Kane followed, one hand pressed to his shoulder.
Behind us, voices echoed through the breach.
"Cross!" someone shouted. "The core is destabilizing. Leave the carrier and come in alone."
Kane stopped.
The words hung in the dark.
I turned toward him. "Carrier?"
"Keep moving."
"They called me a carrier."
"They call everyone something."
"You knew they were going to abandon you."
"I suspected."
"You knew."
"Move, Vera."
I shoved him back against the channel wall. His injured shoulder struck concrete. His face tightened, but he didn't push me away.
"You knew they were going to kill us both," I said.
"Yes."
"And you still brought me here."
"I brought you away from the roof."
"That's not the same thing."
"It was the only choice I had."
"No. You had a choice. You could've handed me over."
"Then they would've taken the core out of you."
"You said extraction kills me."
"It does."
"So why do you care?"
His hand rose, stopping just short of my neck. His fingers hovered over the bleeding access port. He didn't touch it.
The restraint in that small pause hit harder than a grab would have.
"Because I know what it feels like to be written off as equipment," he said.
The answer was too raw. Too quick.
I caught his wrist before he could lower his hand.
"Who wrote you off?"
"Not now."
"You don't get to make me trust you and then hide."
"I didn't ask you to trust me."
"You keep saving me. That's worse."
His gaze dropped to our joined hands.
"You think saving you makes me safe?"
"I think it makes you confusing."
"Good. Confusion keeps you alive."
The channel shook.
A heavy machine pushed through the breach behind us. Its cutting arm tore away the last section of concrete. Red scanning beams swept across the muck.
Kane shoved me behind him.
"Stay down."
"I can fight."
"You can barely stand."
"You can barely lift your arm."
"Mine doesn't have a timer in it."
My overlay flashed again.
[OVERCLOCK FAILURE IN 00:06:21]
I showed him the display.
"Then we stop hiding," I said. "Give me a target."
"No."
"Kane."
"No overclock."
"You don't command me."
"I do while you're linked to me."
"You want control that badly?"
"I want you alive."
"Then get out of my way."
I stepped around him.
The machine fired a burst of flechettes.
Kane caught me around the waist and spun us behind a support pillar. The flechettes struck the wall. One sliced across his side. The link gave me the pain. I bit down on a cry.
"You felt that," he said.
"You think?"
"Don't use the link."
"I don't know how."
"Then listen to me."
"I am listening. I'm just not obeying."
He braced his rifle on the pillar. "On three, I fire at the machine's sensor. You hit the fuel line under the left plate."
"You saw that from here?"
"I designed the model."
"You designed everything that wants to kill us."
"Three."
"You skipped one and two."
"You complain when I count too."
He fired.
I leaned out and shot the left plate. The first round sparked off. The second found the seam. The machine lurched, its armor opening just enough to expose the fuel line.
"Again!" Kane shouted.
I fired until the line burst.
Blue flame rolled under the machine. It staggered forward, crushing the broken wall, then collapsed into the channel with a deep metallic groan.
The soldiers behind it opened fire.
Kane shoved the rifle into my hands.
"Cover me."
"Your arm—"
"Cover me!"
He ran.
I fired over his shoulder, forcing the soldiers back. Kane crossed the channel, slid through the muck, and grabbed a fallen shock grenade.
"Kane, don't!"
He pulled the pin.
"You have a better idea?"
"Yes. Several."
"Tell me later."
He threw the grenade through the breach.
The blast knocked the soldiers off their feet. Kane came back hard and fast, caught my hand, and dragged me through the side passage before the smoke cleared.
We ran until the channel opened into an old pumping station.
The door behind us slammed shut. Kane shoved a metal bar through the handles and leaned against it.
I raised the rifle at his chest.
He raised his pistol at mine.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Our breathing filled the room. His shoulder bled through the armor. My neck burned under the core's hidden heat. The link carried every beat between us, tangled and loud.
"You first," I said.
"You always this polite?"
"Only with assassins."
"You keep calling me that."
"What should I call you?"
"Kane."
"That isn't a job title."
"It's the name I answer to."
"Fine, Kane. Put the gun down."
"You put yours down."
"No."
"Then we have a problem."
"You are the problem."
He took one step toward me.
I took one step back.
The pumping station gave us nowhere else to go. My heel struck a rusted grate. Kane saw the moment I ran out of space and stopped.
He could have disarmed me. I knew it. He knew I knew it.
Instead, he lowered his pistol by an inch.
"Your hand is shaking," he said.
"Your shoulder is bleeding."
"That wasn't my question."
"It wasn't your business."
"Everything tied to that core is my business."
"There you are again. Hiding behind the hardware."
His jaw worked. "You want to know why I keep you alive?"
"I want to know why you keep looking at me like you hate the answer."
The link went tight.
His pulse jumped. Mine followed.
Kane lowered the gun all the way.
"Because the core is transmitting a command sequence," he said. "It isn't just combat code. It's a purge list. Names. Units. Orders. Everything that happened to my team before they erased us."
I stared at him. "Your team?"
"The company says we died in a training accident. We didn't."
"And the core has proof?"
"It has a fragment. Your body is the only thing decrypting it."
"So I am equipment again."
"No."
"That's what you just said."
"I said you're carrying the proof. I didn't say you're the proof."
"You need me."
"Yes."
"Say it properly."
His eyes stayed on mine. "I need you alive."
The words settled under my skin.
I hated how much I wanted to believe him.
Then the door bar bent.
Kane raised his rifle. "We have to leave."
"Where?"
"Dex's clinic."
"No."
"Your core has less than six minutes."
"Dex will charge me triple if you show up."
"I'll pay."
I laughed once. "With what? Your corporate expense account?"
"With whatever it takes."
"That's a dangerous promise."
"So is letting you die."
The door shook again.
Kane grabbed my jacket and pulled me toward a service lift at the back of the station. The lift had no power. He tore open the panel and ripped two wires free.
"You know, most people use buttons."
"Most people don't have six minutes."
"You keep saying the number like it helps."
"It's supposed to make you move."
"It's making me want to hit you."
"Good. Anger keeps your pulse up."
"You want my pulse up?"
His gaze flicked to my throat.
"Not like that."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to."
The lift jerked alive.
The door behind us began to split. A rifle barrel punched through the gap.
Kane fired at the barrel. The soldier screamed and pulled back.
"Get in," he ordered.
"You first."
"Vera."
"We're linked. If you die, I die. Remember?"
He stared at me, then stepped into the lift.
I followed.
The doors closed as bullets tore through the station wall.
The lift dropped.
Not smoothly. It plunged several levels, throwing me into Kane's chest. His good arm caught me. My hands landed against his vest.
The link surged at the contact.
His heartbeat filled me.
Mine filled him.
The lift lights flashed red.
"Let go," I whispered.
His arm stayed around me. "You're going to fall."
"I'm standing."
"Barely."
"I said let go."
He released me.
Too quickly.
I grabbed his wrist before he could pull away.
His eyes dropped to my hand.
"You were saying?" he asked.
"Shut up."
The lift stopped with a violent jolt.
The doors opened onto Dex Nolan's clinic.
Dex stood behind a workbench with a shock pistol aimed at us. His goggles were pushed onto his forehead, and a tiny welding torch hung from one hand.
"Don't move," he said. "Either of you."
Kane raised his rifle.
I stepped in front of him. "Dex, put that down."
"You brought him here?"
"He brought himself."
"That's Kane Cross."
"I know who he is."
"That man has a bounty big enough to buy this whole block."
"Then invoice him."
Dex's eyes jumped to the glowing mark at my neck. His face drained of color.
"What the hell did you do?"
"I installed a problem."
"You installed a military core into your spine?"
"I was busy."
Kane stepped out of the lift. His rifle remained aimed at Dex. "We need a medical interface. Now."
Dex swung the shock pistol toward him. "You need to leave."
"If I leave, she dies."
"You don't care if she dies."
"I do now."
Dex looked at me. "Did he hit his head?"
"Probably."
"Vera, what did you bring into my clinic?"
"A debt problem, a corporate hitman, and about five minutes before my brain starts cooking."
Dex swore and shoved the pistol into his belt.
"Put her on the table."
Kane moved toward me.
I lifted my pistol, though my hand barely held steady. "He doesn't put me anywhere."
Kane stopped. "Then lie down yourself."
"You really don't know how to ask."
"Please lie down before you die."
Dex blinked. "Was that manners?"
"Don't encourage him," I said.
I climbed onto the metal table. Kane stayed beside me, close enough that his knee touched the edge. Dex pulled a scanner over my neck. The machine chirped once, then screamed.
His face changed.
"What?" I asked.
"Hold still."
"That's never a good answer."
Dex scanned again. The display filled with red warnings.
Kane leaned over the table. "Tell me."
"I said hold still."
"Dex."
"The core isn't just bonded to her spinal relay."
"What else?"
Dex's eyes moved between us. "It threaded itself through the neural bridge."
"Meaning?" I asked.
He swallowed. "Meaning if I pull it, she dies. If I cut the bridge, you die."
Kane's hand closed around the edge of the table.
"There has to be a bypass," he said.
"There is."
"Then use it."
"I can't."
I pushed myself up on one elbow. "Why not?"
Dex stared at the scanner.
The room went quiet except for the machine's rapid beeping and the pulse of the link under my skin.
"Because the core has already started shutting down her motor pathways," Dex said. "And the neural bridge is carrying the damage into him."
Kane's expression went still.
"How long?" he asked.
Dex's fingers hovered over the controls.
"You want the honest number?"
"Give it to me."
Dex looked at my neck, then dropped the scalpel from his hand.
"You've got seven hours to live," he said, "unless I cut the link before it reaches—"