Page 92 of The Honeymoon Hack
“We should check with Rav,” she said, pulling on her ID badge. “Maybe sneak over to his room?”
“Good idea.” I picked up my phone, thumb moving to the Mnemis app. “See if he knows what’s happening.”
But the app didn’t fully load. Instead, bold blue text consumed the entire screen:COMMUNICATIONS RESTRICTED - CODE BLUE PROTOCOLS IN EFFECT
I closed the warning and tapped on the messaging link. It was disabled. “Bloody hell. They’ve locked down comms.”
Brie had her phone out too, receiving the same denial. “It’s not just comms. I can’t access the facility map either. If they’re blocking employee?—”
Our front door lock clicked. The lock unbolted.
Ice splintered through my veins.
Oh fuck.
The door burst inward.
Two figures in black tactical gear charged through, rifles raised, red laser dots zeroing in on our chests. “Hands up! Now!”
My hands flew up, and I shifted my weight forward, putting myself between Brie and the rifles.
More bodies crowded the doorway. Black helmets, face masks, headsets, every inch of skin covered except their eyes. These weren’t Mnemis security guards.
This was something else.
And they were wet. Wet?
“What’s the problem?” I asked as calmly as possible.
“On your knees,” the lead man barked. “Lace your fingers together behind your heads.”
I lowered myself, not risking a glance over my shoulder to ensure Brie was doing the same. But if I led the way, she’d follow me. “You obviously have the wrong room. My wife and I were?—”
Claire walked into the room, stopping between the two men with rifles. Her grin made my stomach drop. She didn’t express any surprise. No concern either. No, that look was pure satisfaction. Malcolm had been right when he told Brie we needed to be careful around her.
“Will and Brie Stone.” Claire’s voice echoed the smugness in her eyes. “Or should I say, John and Jane Doe?”
“Claire, what’s going on?” asked Brie from behind me, her voice pitched higher than usual. She took a shaky breath. “Is this about the hurricane? Did something?—”
“Save it.” She said over her shoulder, “Secure them. Separately.”
The armed men remained motionless, while Derek Moss—the head of security!—joined us in the room. He yanked my hands behind my back and lashed them with zip ties. The thin plastic bit into my skin.
Behind me, Brie let out a tiny sob as they did the same to her. Rage flashed through me so hot and sudden I almost did something stupid.
I craned my head to snap at him, “Be careful with her.”
“The protective husband.” Claire came closer to me. “I have to admit, you play that role well. But I saw her crying earlier this evening. I know you forced her into this.”
“What?” I nearly spat at her. What was she talking about?
Claire looked at Derek, while the two men in black flanked her. “I want them in the interrogation rooms. One of my colleagues will speak with them there.”
“We’ve only got two holding rooms,” Moss said. “Tremblay’s going to be in one of them.”
Tremblay. Fucking hell. They had Rav.
Moss continued, “And we need space for Ken and Ronnie, too.”
