Page 70 of Unmasked Prophecy

He pauses, glancing back at me.

“Thank you.”

His eyes flash, and he nods. “I’m comin’ back for you. Stay alive for me, darlin’.”

His words melt my heart.

I nod, fighting back my tears.

Then, he’s gone.

Now, it’s my turn.

I CROUCH LOW OUTSIDEthe security shed, having made it over here with no issues. I’m thankful for that, because if I get caught now, this whole plan is ruined. The most important part of this plan is making sure that this is broadcast for the world to see. It’s the only way we can bring them down without bloodshed.

I have to wait for the operator’s schedule to work in my favor, but the minutes feel like torture, like an eternity as I continue glancing at my watch, waiting for seven p.m. That’s when he leaves to go for only half an hour, eating his dinner and returning. He locks the room, but I am hoping it is easy enough to get in.

My watch ticks over, and I hear the door creak, close, and then footsteps fading into the distance.

Right on time.

He’s gone.

I slip around the side, finding the window I need to climb into. It’s high, but I reach it and pull myself up, my muscles straining with effort as my shoes slide against the outside wall.I push the glass, praying it comes undone, and it opens with a reluctant creak.

Thank God.

I haul myself inside, landing awkwardly on the floor. The room is hot and stale, a small fan doing little to move the air and the smell is absolutely disgusting. Does this man shower? I scan the monitors, each screen showing a different angle of the compound. All quiet. No alarms have been raised—yet. I don’t have long.

I pull out the phone the hacker, Greg, gave me, and I call the number he instructed.

It rings once before his voice comes on, calm and steady. “Nia?”

“I’m in,” I whisper, glancing around the room. “What do I do?”

"Good. Head to the main computer, it should be the screen that isn’t showing any footage. You'll need to access the database first."

I locate the computer, it sits right in the middle of all the other large screens, and is the only one that doesn’t have constant footage running. I move the mouse around, going into it, and the first thing that pops up is porn.

“Jesus,” I mutter, going to click it closed, but realizing I can’t. He’ll notice.

I wonder what my father would think of his holy men watching such wickedness.

I nearly snort at the thought.

Anyway, back to it.

“I got it,” I tell Greg.

I follow every single one of his instructions, the ringing in my ears and the lump in my throat making me feel sick as I try not to make any errors. Everything relies on this.Everything.

I do what he asks and open a screen, typing in a heap of codes that I could never understand if I tried. "I'm in."

"Now, take the flash drive I gave you earlier and plug it in.”

I pull the flash drive from my pocket, plugging it in, and he guides me through how to start it.

“Now what?” I question, when the screen starts doing things on its own.

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