Croft taps her datapad, and the holographic projection shifts, displaying a massive, three-dimensional rendering of a subterranean server farm. "It’s a black-site server farm in Zurich," Croft explains. "Owned by a shell corporation linked to the Baseline Coalition's tech division. They’re using a quantum supercomputer to generate the polymorphic code. If we destroy the physical servers, the digital attacks stop."
Kade looks at me. Through the mate bond, I feel his absolute, unyielding resolve.
"We hit them in the flesh," Kade says, his mental voice grim. "Croft, prep the stealth transport. We’re going to Zurich."
The war room is a crucible of controlled, tactical chaos.
I sit at the head of the holographic table, my left arm resting heavily in the carbon-fiber sling. The neuro-blocker
