Sister Against Sister

Chloe didn't wait for a reunion. She yanked me to my feet, her grip brutal but steadying. "We have three minutes before the backup squad arrives. Can she walk?"

I looked at Elena. My sister was gasping, her skin flushed, her eyes wide and unfocused. The black veins were fading, but the trauma of the transformation still rippled through her.

"I... I think so," Elena whispered. She tried to stand, but her legs buckled.

I caught her. "Lean on me."

Dante struggled up from the floor, wiping blood from his mouth. He looked at Chloe, his eyes narrowed. "You were supposed to be guarding the perimeter."

"I got bored," Chloe said, holstering her tablet. "And you were taking too long. Besides, I figured you might need help blowing something up."

She pointed to the shattered blast door. "The elevator is out. We have to take the stairs. Roof access."

"The roof?" I asked, supporting Elena's weight. "That's where Lucius went."

"Exactly," Chloe said. "He took the only way off this rock. We're going to take it back."

We moved into the hallway. The air was clearing, the vents now pulling the toxic fog out of the building. But the silence was more terrifying than the alarms.

We climbed. Every step was agony. Elena was heavy, her breathing ragged. Dante guarded the rear, his gun trained on the shadows below.

We reached the roof access door. It was dented, the lock melted.

Chloe kicked it open.

The wind hit us first, howling across the open expanse of the helipad. The city lights below were a glittering ocean, indifferent to our survival.

And there, in the center of the pad, was the helicopter. Its rotors were spinning, ready for takeoff.

But it wasn't lifting off.

Lucius was standing by the open door. He was arguing with the pilot, his gestures frantic. He saw us emerge from the stairwell.

He didn't run. He didn't hide. He smiled.

"Persistent," he shouted over the wind. "I'll give you that."

He raised his remote. "But persistence has a price."

He pressed a button.

Nothing happened.

He pressed it again, harder. His smile faltered.

Chloe held up her tablet. "Looking for this signal?"

Lucius stared at her. "You jammed it."

"I rewrote it," Chloe said. "The self-destruct sequence? It's not set for the lab anymore. It's set for the helipad."

She tapped her screen.

A siren wailed from the helicopter's console. The pilot looked at the dashboard, then at Lucius. His eyes went wide.

He didn't wait for orders. He throttled up.

"Wait!" Lucius screamed, grabbing the skid.

The helicopter lurched into the air. Lucius held on, his feet dangling over the edge of the roof.

"Help me!" he shrieked.

I stepped forward. The wind whipped my hair into my face. I looked at the man who claimed to be my father. The man who had turned my sister into a weapon and my life into a lie.

"No," I said.

The helicopter banked sharply. Lucius lost his grip.

He fell.

He didn't scream. He just plummeted into the darkness, a black shape swallowed by the city he had tried to own.

The helicopter disappeared into the night.

We stood there, shivering in the cold wind.

It was over.

"We need to go," Dante said, his voice soft. "The police will be here soon."

I looked at Elena. She was leaning against the parapet, watching the spot where Lucius had fallen.

"Is he gone?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

She turned to me. Her eyes were still strange, the pupils too large, too dark. But she was my sister again.

"Thank you," she whispered.

I hugged her. For the first time in years, I let myself cry.

Chloe cleared her throat. "Touching. Really. But we have a problem."

She pointed to the stairwell door.

Figures were emerging. Not police. Not guards.

They wore grey suits. They moved with a terrifying synchronization.

The Ghosts.

"I thought you said the network was down," I said to Dante.

"It is," Dante said, raising his gun. "These aren't network assets. These are private contractors."

"Hired by who?"

A man stepped out from behind the Ghosts. He was small, impeccably dressed. He held a martini glass in one hand and a cane in the other.

The Broker.

"Hello, Aria," he said, taking a sip. "I believe you have something of mine."

I stared at him. "The key?"

"The key is worthless now," he said. "You uploaded it. The damage is done."

He pointed his cane at Elena.

"I want the prototype."