Page 199 of Mine Again
“You get some rest while I find a way to bury Hale.”
I point toward the wooden wardrobe in the corner.
“You’re going in a wardrobe to do that?” she asks, frowning.
“There’s a hidden door behind a false backing. Come, I’ll show you.”
“So you’re changing the theme from Bond to Narnia?” she teases.
“It’s still very Bond,” I counter.
When she’s next to me, I slide the panel aside to reveal the triple-padlocked steel door.
“Where does it go?” she asks.
“Narnia, obviously,” I deadpan, but she doesn’t laugh. Too exhausted for banter, she just widens her eyes at me.
“To the underground reinforced cellar. No one knows it’s there.”
She leans forward, peering at the long chute and metal ladder disappearing into the dark. A shiver runs through her.
“So there’s no access to it from the ground floor?”
“No, it’s another measure to make it harder to find, should anyone go looking for it.”
Her gaze lingers on the shadows below, then lifts to me. “You need to eat something before you disappear down that rabbit hole.”
Before I can protest, she’s already unzipping one of our bags and taking out some of the food we bought in Gibraltar. My stomach growls at the sight.
“Explain to me what’s down there and why you couldn’t have it on the island,” she says.
“Tools I need if Hale ever pulls a stunt like this. Part of me expected it,” I say, sitting down on the chair and pulling Isa onto my lap. “It was only a matter of time.”
I tear a piece from the crusty loaf and dip it into a small tin of oliveoil. The first bite hits exactly where I need it. I rarely eat bread, but this is worth breaking the rule for.
I tear another piece and hold it up to Isa’s mouth. She hesitates for a moment, then leans in and takes it. Her shoulders ease, a quiet signal of trust in a place where neither of us can afford to relax.
“I needed a place far from home to store these tools. They’re more like weapons, powerful ones. In the wrong hands, they could do real damage.”
She feeds me some more bread and waits for me to continue.
“This node isn’t connected to anything. No internet, no signal. It remains offline until I power it up. Here, I can analyze his attack without detection. It’s not just an archive; it’s a vault, a weapon.”
“And the thing we picked up earlier?” she asks.
“The tower unit plugs in with the rest of the tools in the cellar. Think of it as the brain. The cellar is where I keep the knives.”
Her brow creases. “What are you hoping to find?”
“A fingerprint. Every breach leaves one. I can match Delaware’s to the markers I’ve archived from Hale over the years, all without touching the open internet. No trail. No risk of it propagating.”
I take another bite of the delicious bread before continuing.
“Every time our systems crossed, I kept a copy of his code. If I find one of his embedded markers in the breach, it proves two things. It was not my attack, and I can trace exactly how Hale got access to something only I or my clients should have had.”
Her eyes narrow. “So we’ll know if someone handed it to him.”
“Or if he stole it. Either way, it gives me leverage.”
