BRIDE OF DECEPTION

CH 9: THE CODE

Annie's POV

The brick wall was cold against my back and I counted in my head, my grip tight on the small metal canister. Tobin was in there and the sounds from inside were not good. I pulled the pin, leaned out just enough to see the open doorway, and threw the flash grenade inside. I turned my face back into the brick and squeezed my eyes shut. There was a loud pop and a bright white light that I could see even through my eyelids.

I moved before the sound faded, stepping into the room with my gun up. The air smelled sharp and burnt. Three men were stumbling around, their hands over their eyes, cursing. One was on the floor. Tobin was in a chair in the middle of it all, his head down, his body tense. I grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “It’s me,” I said, my voice low and quick. “Move.”

He staggered but followed my lead. One of the men, a big guy with a beard, was blinking hard, his vision starting to clear. He saw the shape of me and started to raise his weapon. I didn’t hesitate. I shot him in the leg and he went down with a shout. The other two were still disoriented, swinging their guns wildly.

“Stop shooting you idiots,” one of them yelled, his voice panicked. “You’ll hit us!”

I used their confusion. I shoved Tobin toward the door while keeping my gun on them. On a small table near the chair, I saw the flash drive, a little black piece of plastic next to a half-empty water bottle. I snatched it and backed out of the room, pulling Tobin with me. The shouts from inside got louder as we stumbled out into the alley.

The car was parked close, just around the corner. I opened the passenger door and pushed Tobin inside. “Get in,” I said. He collapsed into the seat and I ran to the driver’s side, my heart hammering against my ribs. I started the engine and pulled away from the curb fast, the tires squealing.

We were a few blocks away before either of us spoke. Tobin was rubbing his eyes, his breathing ragged. I expected a thank you, or at least some acknowledgement. Instead, he turned his head toward me, his eyes still screwed shut. “Why did you come back,” he said, his voice not a question but an accusation. “That was a stupid risk. You didn’t know how dangerous those men were.”

I kept my eyes on the road. I didn’t answer him. I just drove, turning corners at random to make sure we weren’t followed.

He wasn’t finished. “Annie, I had a plan. You could have blown the whole—”

I cut him off. “You’re welcome,” I said, my tone flat. “And try to regain your vision first. The flashbang effects won’t last forever. I got the drive, by the way.” I held it up for a second before tossing it into his lap.

He fell silent then. He picked up the drive and closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. The only sound was the engine and the rush of air from the open windows. We drove for maybe twenty minutes, leaving the industrial area behind for quieter streets. The tension in the car was a physical thing, thick and heavy.

My curiosity got the better of me. I had to know what was on that thing. It was all I could think about since I’d grabbed it. “What does it open,” I asked, breaking the silence. “The flash drive. Since I have it, curiosity has never allowed me to check.”

Tobin didn’t answer right away. He just sat there, his face pale. I thought he might be ignoring me. Then he spoke, his voice tired. “Even if you had checked, it wouldn’t have mattered. The data is locked. You need a passcode to access the files. We have to get back to Washington before we can even try to open it.”

“A passcode,” I said.

“Yes. A six-digit number. Without it, the drive is useless.”

We drove on. After a while, Tobin shifted in his seat. He blinked a few times, testing his vision. It seemed to be coming back. He looked down at the flash drive in his hand, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small phone and an OTG adapter. He connected the drive to his phone, his movements still a little clumsy. The screen lit up. A prompt appeared, asking for the code.

He nodded to himself and then dipped his hand back into his pocket, feeling around for something. His expression changed from focus to confusion. He patted his jacket pockets, then his pants pockets, his movements becoming more frantic. He gently slapped his sides, his face going slack with panic.

“What is it,” I asked.

“The pen,” he said, his voice quiet with disbelief. “It’s gone. I lost the pen.”

“What pen?”

Before he could answer, his phone started to vibrate on his knee. He picked it up and looked at the screen. His whole body went rigid. He showed me the display. It was a number he clearly recognized, the same people we had just escaped from. He took a deep breath and answered the call, putting it on speakerphone.

A calm, smooth voice came through the speaker. It was a voice I had heard only once before, in a different life. “Tobin. I hope you’re enjoying the scenery.”

Tobin’s jaw was tight. “What do you want?”

“I think you know. You have something that belongs to me. The flash drive. And the pen. I want them both returned. Now.”

“Or what,” Tobin said.

The voice on the other end didn’t change its tone. “Or all hell will let loose. You know I’m not making an empty threat. This is bigger than you, Tobin. Bigger than both of us. Do the smart thing.”

The call ended. Tobin lowered the phone. We both understood at the same moment. They didn’t have the pen. They thought we had it, but we didn’t. Tobin had lost it, probably back in that room or in the alley. It was the key, just like the code. We needed both.

Without a word, I checked the mirror and made a sharp U-turn in the middle of the empty street. The car tires protested but we were now heading back the way we came.

“What are you doing,” Tobin asked, his voice sharp.

“We’re going back,” I said. “If you lost it, it’s still there. They don’t have it. They wouldn’t have called if they did.”

He didn’t argue. He just stared out the window as I pushed the car faster. We got back to the industrial area and I slowed down, killing the headlights as we approached the building from a different angle. It looked quiet now. The alley was empty. I parked a block away.

“Wait here,” Tobin said, his hand on the door handle.

I turned off the engine and opened my own door. “No.”

“Annie, this is not a discussion. Get back in the car.”

I stood outside, looking toward the mouth of the alley. “You’re not going in there alone. They could still be inside. You need someone to watch your back.”

He got out and came around to my side. He glared at me, his face hard in the dim light. “I gave you an order. This is not your fight.”

“It is now,” I said, and I started walking toward the alley. I heard him swear under his breath, then his footsteps following me.

“When we get back to Washington,” he said, his voice low and angry right behind me, “your punishment for this insubordination will be severe. You understand that?”

“I understand,” I said, not looking back.

We reached the alley. It was dark and smelled of garbage. The door to the room was still hanging open. There was no sign of the men. They had probably cleared out after the call, thinking we had both items. We moved carefully, our footsteps quiet on the dirty concrete. I tried to picture where Tobin had been, the path I had pulled him along.

The pen. He must have had it in his pocket. It could have fallen out when he stood up, or when we were running. I scanned the ground, looking for anything that wasn’t dirt or broken glass. Tobin was doing the same a few feet away, his focus on the area right outside the door.

Then I saw it. A glint of metal near a drainpipe, about halfway down the alley. It was a simple silver pen, lying on the sandy floor. I walked over and picked it up. It was heavier than it looked.

I held it up. “Tobin.”

He turned and saw what was in my hand. He walked over quickly, his relief obvious. He took the pen from me and examined it, then tucked it securely into an inside pocket of his jacket. He looked at me, and the anger in his eyes was gone, replaced by something else, something I couldn’t quite name.

I smiled a little, just a soft turn of my lips. “You should treat me lightly back at home,” I said. “Considering I just saved the mission twice.”

For the first time since I’d known him, Tobin smiled. It was a small, brief thing, there and then gone in less than two seconds. He almost immediately bowed his head, as if embarrassed by the reaction. But I had seen it. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice gruff again.

We got back into the car and this time I drove us toward the highway, putting as much distance between us and that place as possible. Once we were on the open road, Tobin took out his laptop. He connected the flash drive and then held up the pen. It wasn’t a pen at all. He unscrewed the bottom and a small, flat metal key slid out. He inserted it into a tiny port on the side of the flash drive. The screen changed. A number pad appeared.

He typed in the six-digit code from memory. We both waited, watching the screen. A progress bar filled up slowly. Then it was done. The screen cleared and displayed its contents. It was just an address. A street in Washington D.C. And below it, a sequence of numbers. 102518.

I stared at it. I felt a hollow disappointment in my chest. “That’s it,” I said. “An address? We almost got killed for an address?”

Tobin was studying the screen, his expression unreadable. “That address has the answers we need,” he said quietly. He closed the laptop. “Drive to the airport. We’re going home. We’re going to that address.”