The countdown burned red. Floor 45. My floor.
“Ma’am, problem,” Marco said. IT head. Ex-NSA. Terrified. “Someone’s in the worm.”
“Trace them.”
“They left a message. In your code.”
Main screen flickered. My code. Russian in the comments:
Привет, Королева. Тик-так. – В
Hello, Queen. Tick-tock. – W
The Wolf.
I hit the intercom. Voice to 50 floors.
“This is Isabella Moretti. Floor 45 is closed. If you’re not my team, you have 10 minutes to evac before I vent halon. 30 seconds to live. Tick-tock.”
18 people ran.
Dante walked in. Heard it all.
“Playing queen already?” He wasn’t mad. Pleased.
“They let the Wolf in,” I said. “That’s treason.”
“That’s Thursday,” he said. “But I like your solution.”
He looked at the countdown. 45:58:33.
“You ready for war?”
“I started it,” I said. “
