The Night Hawk

Chapter 4: The Man at the Gate

The woman came up the stairs alone, hands raised. I recognized her from the security office: Lieutenant Sloane, a tactical officer with a scar beneath her chin.

"Put the g*n down," she said.

"Tell me the current code phrase."

"North gate is clear."

"That's the status phrase. I asked for the code."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're out of protocol."

"Say it."

"Silver bridge."

I lowered the muzzle a fraction. She knew the phrase. It did not prove she was loyal, only that she had access to the system.

"Rusk has Control," she said. "He's using the command center to broadcast orders to the Guard."

"Where are the loyal units?"

"Locked in the barracks. Some are with him."

"Who is with him?"

"I don't have a full list."

"What happened in the gallery?"

"Three guests injured. One guard dead. The Crown Prince has been declared missing."

Julian stepped forward. "You saw the announcement?"

"I heard it on the command feed, Your Highness."

"Who authorized it?"

"Director Rusk."

"He doesn't have that authority."

Sloane's jaw flexed. "He's claiming the palace has been compromised by a foreign cell. He's ordered a lockdown and a temporary transfer of command to the Emergency Council."

"The emergency decree isn't signed," Julian said.

"I know."

"Then they have no legal basis."

"They're not asking permission."

Sloane's gaze shifted to me. "We need to move now. Rusk has teams in the east wing and the main stair."

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't. But I'm here, and they aren't."

That was fair enough to be useful.

We went down the stairs together. I kept Sloane in front of me and Julian behind. The passage ended at a steel door. Sloane used a keycard, then led us into a storage room filled with folding chairs and old ceremonial banners.

She closed the door quietly.

"Where's your mother?" she asked me.

"Archive basement."

"She'll be safer there if the west side stays clear."

"If."

"Rusk's men are searching the public floors, not the records areas. He needs the palace staff to keep the government functioning."

"Or he needs witnesses under control."

Sloane did not argue.

A portable radio sat on a shelf. I turned it on and found a channel that was not being monitored. We heard an order to move all royal staff to the east wing.

Then a familiar voice cut in.

"Any officer who refuses the order will be treated as an accomplice."

I knew Rusk's voice from years of briefings. Calm, clipped, unhurried. I had once watched him help a frightened page carry a tray of glasses. He had seemed almost gentle.

People often mistook composure for honesty.

Julian leaned toward the radio. "He's trying to put the staff in one place."

"Probably," I said.

"And you think we should just leave them?"

"I think we need a way to stop him before he takes more control."

"Then we need the broadcast room."

Sloane folded her arms. "The broadcast room is in the command wing. Rusk has at least six men there."

"Can we reach the emergency transmitter?" I asked.

"From the old weather station. It still feeds the coastal network."

"That station is three miles from here."

"Three miles is better than a locked door."

Julian took a step toward the exit. "Then we go."

I blocked him. "If you're seen, they'll have a legitimate target and a reason to use force."

"I'm already the target."

"You're also the only person in this country whose voice could disrupt the announcement."

"And the only person you're paid to protect."

"I'm not paid by the Crown."

His eyes sharpened.

Sloane glanced between us. "This is a good time to explain?"

"It's not," I said.

Julian's voice dropped. "You said you were assigned to me."

"I was. The Royal Service recruited me under a civilian cover. I'm not a guard in uniform, and I don't get a salary from the palace."

"What do you get?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"That makes it sound worse."

"It was supposed to make it sound ordinary."

I was a state protection officer, funded through a security budget Julian had never seen. My father's public service record had made me eligible for the training program; my mother's low-ranking job at the palace made my cover credible. I had given Julian a false profession and a true reason for staying near him. Neither had felt like enough.

Sloane opened the rear door. "We can keep having this conversation after the prince is alive."

Julian did not move. Then he looked at me and nodded once.

I led them toward the lower exit.

The moment I touched the bar, a metal door slammed somewhere behind us. Footsteps pounded down the stairs.

Sloane raised her pistol. "We've been found."

I pulled Julian toward the narrow passage. A shot rang out, and the emergency lights went dark.