Page 90 of Son of a Witch

“Roger that.” I gave her one of my classic salutes.

Selena’s chest expanded with her deep breath. “All right, team, let’s grab the testing gear, our weapons, and make our way to the Terra Room for departure.”

Selena and Loco departed in deep conversation. Pascal trailed behind them, playing notes on his fingers.

Astra and Knoxe lagged behind.

“See you, Superguy.” She pressed her warm body to mine, linking an arm behind my neck, bracing herself against me to kiss me, loving and inviting. “We should be back before dinner.”

I tapped her ass. “See you then, Supergal. Don’t get into any trouble.”

She giggled. “I’d never steal your job.” Her eyes sparkled with adoration as she let me go, backed away, gaze flicking to Knoxe quickly before leaving. “But I can keep your spot warm.”

I appreciated the bounce of her sexy ass as she grabbed her weapons belt and exited the mission briefing room.

Apparently deep in thought, Knoxe scrubbed at his tensed jaw. Poor bastard hated being given directives. Hated the change in team dynamics. Hated the loss of control previously afforded him as team leader.

I’d been so selfish and lost in my own self-pity that I didn’t notice his suffering. I stepped up to him, setting my palms on his shoulders. Least I could do when he tried to help me keep from going mad from being bed bound and stuck in the chair.

“It’s just temporary, Knoxe. Once we round up these prisoners, we’re out of this shithole and back in the Shadows whereyou willlead again.”

He grunted and let out a depressed breath, his spine curved. “Yeah.”

I offered him a little nugget to perk him up. “I’ll cook somebanana breadwhile you’re out and get you some intel.” Clandestine words to refer to the USB the warden gave us.

That got him and his back straightened. “We’ll debrief when I get back.” He smiled, clapped me on the shoulder, leaving with a renewed vigor in his step.

Exactly how I felt since the exoskeleton fell into my lap. Lady luck shined on us for once.

Smiling, I sauntered up to sentry Ben, who waited for me by the room’s door. “Ready to make some banana bread?”

Eagerness wrestled inside me to discover what secrets the USB’s content revealed. Identities of shady guards, prisoners, even Guild officials. Fury scorched my veins to unveil those fuckers and have them arrested. To track down every last prisoner, guilty or not, and torture them for their involvement in the deaths of thirty or more innocent prisoners and guards.

Ben navigated me down the corridor to the Watch Tower to do some research. The plan we hatched involved him keeping guard while I performed the research on the evidence he and Vartros collected and supplied on the USB.

My back and neck spasmed in complaint at taking a seat in the chair, the exoskeleton digging into my muscles. They wanted to be active and kept warm with activity. Feeling was mutual.

Time for us to be a hero behind the scenes. The nerd who supplied the superhero with the clue to save the day. The role Supergal suggested I play.

The sentry slid into the seat beside me, inclined forward, and put a USB into the port. “Andrew, one of the techs showed me how to cloak your computer activity.” He twisted my keyboard and typed in a few keystrokes. “To anyone that’s watching, it’ll loop your browser history and look like you’re reviewing the last websites you visited.” He grinned at me. “Hope it isn’t porn.”

I chuckled. “Sadly not.”

Ben slammed the last key and the cloaking session flashed on the screen. “You’ve got an hour. Make it count.”

An hour. Not long enough. I had to make do. Also save myself the time to review the weather radar and social media for my team.

He pushed the keyboard back in front of me to take over. The sentry was one of the few good guys in this place. Never took a bribe. Never got on the wrong side of the prisoners. Treated everyone fairly, and followed every order from Vartros.

“Appreciate it, Ben.” I opened the files.

Determined to find something meaty to take to Knoxe, I dove into the task with unbreakable concentration, flicking through the folders. Security footage. Bank account transactions of staff and prisoners. Reports of who accessed Guardian documents and when. Damn gold mine at my fingertips. The last one piqued my interest and I clicked on it, scrolling through, opening random files. A list of documents scrubbed from the prison’s server.

“There are files erased here,” I voiced to Ben. “Disciplinary records for prisoners and guards. Infraction reports. Supporting evidence for parole applications.”

My keyboard clicked as I tapped through, scanning the recovered documents, swiping at my mouth with my spare hand.

I scoffed and shook my head. “Ten guesses whose had the most files deleted.”

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