Vanguard. The private military contractor that supplied the reverse-engineered silence-tech for the North Sea rig. They weren't just a supplier; they were the architects of the biological war. And they are still operating in the shadows.
Lock down the sub-basement, I project to Morgan, my mental voice sharp. Seal the blast doors. No one gets in or out.
Already done, Luna, Morgan replies. But Isla... the thermal scanners are picking up a massive heat bloom in the sub-basement. It’s not the residual heat from the collapse. It’s muzzle flashes.
My blood runs cold.
The collapse wasn't just an assassination attempt. It was a distraction.
"Lyra!" I shout, my physical voice ringing across the stairwell. "Get the delegates to the sub-basement! Now!"
Lyra, her arm heavily bandaged, instantly
