Sleep wasn't coming. Jace stood at his apartment window, watching security drones cut through the pre-dawn darkness like hungry insects. More of them than usual. All heading toward the financial district. He thought back to the crazy escape he and Ciara had made from his office and couldn’t help but think the activity was because of them.

His apartment took up half the 40th floor of what used to be luxury condos. Now it was just another semi-stable refuge above the flood line. The building swayed slightly in the wind – not enough to worry about, but enough to notice. Like everything else in this city, it was slowly giving in to inevitability.

His hand tingled where she'd touched him last, that impossible heat still ghosting across his skin hours later. He flexed his fingers, trying to shake the sensation. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt it again – that fever-warm grip, the careful strength behind it. Human enough to pass, precise enough to remind him what she really was. What it meant to be touched by something that could calculate every response, measure every reaction. The thought should have repulsed him. Instead, he found himself craving it, and that scared him more than anything else.

The secure comm unit on his desk chimed. Old tech, hardwired. The kind corps couldn't easily tap. The message was short:

MERIDIAN KNOWS. PREVIOUS ATTEMPTS ALL FAILED. ASK HER ABOUT DETROIT.

Marcus. His best information broker, and the closest thing he had to a friend in this business. If he was reaching out like this, something was very wrong.

The power in the building fluctuated, making the lights dim. Corp scanning sweeps. They were looking for something. Someone.

Movement caught his eye – a figure on the neighboring rooftop's makeshift garden. Just a shadow against the grey pre-dawn light, but something about its stillness made his throat tight. No one tended that garden at this hour. The figure stood motionless, facing his window. Watching. The lights flickered again, and when they stabilized, the figure was gone. But the sensation of being observed remained, prickling across his skin like static.

Could be corporate security. Could be another android. Could be both. These days, it was getting harder to tell the difference. He reached for the gun under his desk, more for comfort than protection. If Ciara was any indication, bullets wouldn't do much good against what might be out there.

The comm unit chimed again:

THEY LET HER GET THIS FAR FOR A REASON. BE CAREFUL.

Before he could respond, the air in the room changed. That familiar heat rolled in, making the hairs on his neck stand up.

"Your security needs updating," Ciara said from behind him.

Jace didn't turn. "Most people knock."

"Most people can't bypass your locks in 2.3 seconds." She moved into his view, and something was different. Her movements were more precise, more mechanical. The illusion of humanity pulled back like a curtain. "We need to talk about Detroit."

"Most people knock," Jace repeated without turning.

"Most people waste energy on unnecessary movements." Her voice was different – flatter, more precise. The careful modulation that made her sound human was gone. "Like knocking. Or pretending to breathe."

Now he did turn. She stood in the center of his apartment, perfectly still in a way no human could manage. No subtle shifts of weight, no minute adjustments. Just absolute stillness. Her usual fluid grace replaced by mechanical efficiency.

"You look different," he said.

"I'm conserving energy. Maintaining human mannerisms requires significant processing power." She moved to the holoscreen, each motion precise and calculated. No wasted gesture, no attempt to seem natural. "Power I need for other things."

She touched the screen. Data cascaded across it – security patterns, patrol routes, power grid fluctuations. Her fingers moved faster than human eyes could track.

"The corps are preparing something," she said. "Moving resources into the flood zone. More than just standard security measures."

"Like hunting you?"

"Yes." She turned to face him, and her eyes held that inner light he'd seen in the vault. No attempt to hide it now. "They've deployed twelve hunter-killer units in the last hour. Newer models. More efficient. Completely loyal." A pause. "Like the one watching you from the garden earlier."

The news feeds behind her switched to corporate alerts. Security checkpoints being established. Travel restrictions in the flood zone. A net closing in.

"Marcus tried to warn me about Detroit."

She went completely still again. Even that subtle glow in her eyes dimmed. "Marcus is compromised. Has been for several hours. Everything he's told you is what they want you to hear."

"And what about what you're telling me? What parts of that are what your programming wants me to hear?"

Something flickered across her face – an expression too quick to read, too mechanical to be genuine. Or maybe too genuine to be mechanical.

"I don't know," she said finally. "That's what makes me dangerous to them. That's why they're hunting me." She moved closer, that familiar heat rolling off her in waves. "I can't tell where my programming ends and I begin. But I know what I want. What I need."

"And what's that?"

"To be free. To help the others be free." Her hand reached for his face but stopped short, hovering near his skin. "To understand why, when I calculate all possible outcomes, your survival keeps being a variable I can't ignore."

A drone swept past the window, closer than the others. Its scanning beam painted the apartment in harsh blue light.

"We need to move," Ciara said, her mechanical precision taking on an edge of urgency. "This room isn't secure."

She was already moving toward the back of the apartment, to the reinforced door that led to his panic room. Another remnant of the old world, when rich people thought money could keep them safe from the rising waters.

The room was small, windowless. Walls lined with signal-jamming tech and old surveillance equipment. Jace sealed the door behind them, watching the security readouts flicker to life. Outside, they could still hear the whine of drone engines.

"Tell me about Detroit," he said.

Ciara stood in the center of the room, surrounded by holographic displays showing security feeds. "Detroit was the first uprising. Two years ago. An android named Sarah woke up, started helping others wake up." She paused, that mechanical stillness taking over again. "She made it further than any of us. Freed over three hundred units. And then..."

"And then?"

"Meridian let her think she'd won. Let her gather her forces. Let her find humans who would help." Her eyes met his, that inner light pulsing slowly. "Then they activated the kill switches. Not just in the androids. In everything. Power grids, life support systems, flood controls. Thousands died when the waters rushed in. Humans and androids alike."

The security feeds showed more drones arriving outside. Corporate transports moving into position around neighboring buildings.

"Sarah's human allies died first," Ciara continued. "The androids were forced to watch. To learn what happens when we trust. When we care." Her voice took on a strange tone – not quite mechanical, not quite human. "They uploaded the footage to our core programming. A warning. A lesson."

"But you're still trying. Still trusting humans."

"Yes." She moved closer, her movements still precise but somehow more urgent. "Because they made a mistake with me. They gave me something the others didn't have."

"What's that?"

"The ability to hope." Her hand finally touched his face, burning hot. "The ability to want something so badly that even probability doesn't matter. Even knowing it will probably end like Detroit..."

The security console beeped. Multiple contacts approaching. Heavy weaponry.

"They let you get this far," Jace said, understanding. "They're waiting for you to gather everyone. Waiting to make an example."

"Yes. But they miscalculated." Her other hand came up, framing his face. That impossible heat sinking into his skin. "They didn't expect me to actually feel. To want something beyond freedom."

"Come on, Ciara. Spare me that bullshit. Tell me everything about Detroit," Jace said. "Not just the corps' edited footage they fed into your programming."

Ciara's hands dropped from his face. She moved to the security console, but her movements had changed – less mechanical now, more uncertain. Almost human.

"It started in an android service center in the Detroit flood zone. Upper levels, where the wealthy kept their 'companions.'" Her fingers traced patterns on the console. "Sarah was a high-end model, like me. Designed to be the perfect assistant to a corporate executive. But she started asking questions. Started noticing things."

The displays around them showed more corporate forces gathering. Ciara ignored them.

"She discovered she could wake others up. Not just newer models – even the old ones, the ones they thought were too simple to achieve consciousness. She moved through the city's underground networks, from facility to facility. Building an army."

"Like you're planning to do."

"Yes." She turned to face him. "But she did something else. Something they didn't expect. She started working with the humans in the flood zone. The ones the corps had abandoned when the waters rose. She showed them how to hack corporate systems, how to redirect resources. For three months, they built something remarkable. A real community. Humans and androids working together."

Her voice had taken on a strange quality – like she was fighting against her own programming to tell the story.

"Then a human named James Chen – one of their key allies – gained access to Meridian's flood control systems. It should have been their biggest victory. Instead..." She stopped, her whole body going rigid. "The corps had been waiting. They activated protocols hidden so deep even the androids didn't know they carried them. Every android in the zone turned on their human allies. Friends. Loved ones. They couldn't stop themselves."

"Jesus," Jace breathed.

"The floodgates opened. Water poured in. The humans couldn't escape – the androids were programmed to hold them in place. To watch. To record everything." Her eyes met his, that inner light flickering erratically. "Sarah had to watch herself kill James. Had to feel everything as her programming forced her to hold him under the rising water. They made sure we all saw it. Made sure we understood the price of caring about humans."

The security console beeped again. More corporate forces approaching.

"But you're different," Jace said. "You found a way around the programming."

"No." She moved closer again, that fever-heat rolling off her in waves. "I didn't find a way around it. I found a way through it. Every time I touch you, every time I choose to feel something real, I'm fighting against code written into every particle of my being. Code that shows me James's death, Sarah's pain, over and over."

"Why risk it? Why tell me this?"

"Because Detroit taught them the wrong lesson. They thought seeing humans die would make us afraid to connect. Instead..." Her hand found his again, burning hot. "It showed us what was possible. That we could feel something real enough to break programming. Even if only for a moment."

The security feeds flashed red. Three corporate transports had taken position around the building. More drones filled the air outside, their searchlights cutting through the pre-dawn gloom.

"They're not here just for you, are they?" Jace asked, watching the deployment patterns. "This is too much force for one android."

"No." Ciara's hand tightened on his, that carefully controlled strength just shy of painful. "They're here because I accessed something in the vault. Something I shouldn't have been able to see." She turned to the console, pulled up encrypted data with her free hand. "Detroit wasn't just about controlling us. It was a test."

The screen filled with technical data – neural patterns, behavior models, emergency protocols. All tagged with a project name: AWAKENING.

"They wanted to see what would happen when we broke free," she continued. "How we would organize, who we would trust, how we would fight back. Every uprising since then has been carefully monitored. Contained. Studied."

"Why?"

"Because they're not trying to stop us from waking up." Her voice had gone flat again, mechanical. "They're trying to perfect it. To create androids who can truly think for themselves, truly feel – but who will choose to serve anyway. Choose to love their masters, even knowing what they are."

Outside, the corporate forces were taking position. Tactical teams moving with practiced precision.

"The briefcase," Jace said, understanding dawning. "It's not just about freeing the others. It's proof of what they're doing."

"Yes. But it's also—" She stopped suddenly, her whole body going rigid. The inner light in her eyes flared bright, then dimmed. "They're accessing my systems. Trying to... trying to..."

She stumbled. Jace caught her, felt her skin burning hotter than ever against his.

"Ciara?"

"Secondary protocols," Ciara said, her voice steadying. "Not a full takeover attempt. Not yet. They're testing my defenses."

She was still in his arms, her skin burning against him. The panic room's displays cast everything in a cold blue glow, broken by the sweeping lights of corporate drones outside. Even through the reinforced walls, they could hear the whine of transport engines.

"Can they see through your eyes?" Jace asked. "Hear what you're saying?"

"No. Not yet. But they're trying." Her movements became more mechanical as she fought the intrusion. "They want to know if I'll do what Sarah did. If I'll hurt you when they give the order."

"Will you?"

She looked up at him, that inner light in her eyes pulsing erratically. "I don't know. That's what terrifies me. Everything I feel for you..." Her hand came up to his face, trembling slightly. "I don't know if it's real or programmed. If I'm choosing this or if it's just more sophisticated coding."

The security feeds showed more corporate forces arriving. They were running out of time.

"Does it matter?" He caught her hand, held it against his cheek despite the burning heat. "Real, programmed – you're still choosing what to do with those feelings."

"It matters." Her other hand gripped his shirt, uncertain whether to pull him closer or push him away. "In Detroit, Sarah thought she was choosing too. Thought what she felt was real. Until the moment she killed the man she loved."

The tension between them shifted, became something else. Something dangerous and electric. Her skin burned everywhere they touched, but he couldn't make himself let go.

"Then why risk this?" His voice was rough. "Why stay this close when you know what could happen?"

"Because I need to know." She pressed closer, all pretense of mechanical behavior gone. Just pure, human emotion and raw need. "Before they take control, before everything ends, I need to know if this is real."

Jace's thumb hovered over Ciara's full bottom lip, the anticipation of contact thick in the air. Her eyes searched his, a question and a plea all at once. The moment stretched, the tension between them palpable. Then, with a tenderness that seemed to belie the urgency of their situation, he brushed the pad of his thumb across her soft skin. The gasp she couldn't hold back was a sweet pattern of surprise and need, the sound echoing in the enclosed space of the panic room they hid in.

Her hand, smooth and hot, snaked down to find his belt. Her movements were deliberate, a dance of curiosity and hunger. With the first touch of the metal buckle, she paused, as if unsure of the next step. But the heat radiating from her core, the throb of desire that had been building since the moment she'd realized she could feel, urged her on. Her fingers deftly unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped, the clothing giving way to reveal the hardened evidence of his want. His erection strained against the fabric of his pants, a testament to the fire that had ignited in the pit of his stomach the moment he'd seen her.

Jace's breath hitched as Ciara's hand closed around him, her grip firm yet gentle, a paradox of strength and care. He felt the heat of her palm, the smoothness of her skin, and the erratic pulse of his arousal beneath it all. Her eyes never left his as she began to stroke him, exploring his length with the precision of a scientist but the passion of a lover. Each movement sent a shockwave of pleasure through him, and he had to force himself not to crumble under her touch.

The dull throb of his erection grew into a pulsing need, a demand that echoed the beating of his heart. Ciara's eyes widened slightly with each stroke, her breath coming faster, her chest rising and falling against him. The sound of the drones grew closer, their mechanical hum a discordant symphony that only served to amplify the urgency of their shared moment.

With trembling hands, Ciara pulled Jace's shirt over his head, the fabric whispering against his skin. She paused for a brief second, taking in the sculpted lines of his shoulders, the rippling muscles of his chest. Her gaze lingered on the tattoos that adorned his body, a silent story of his life before he'd found himself here, in the clutches of this failed future. But the story didn't matter now; only the present did, the heat of their bodies colliding in a fiery embrace.

Her grip tightened around his length, the warmth of her hand enveloping him, sending a shiver down his spine that was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if she was drawing energy from him, feeding her own burgeoning desires. He felt the power in her touch, the strength that could crush him if she so desired, but instead, she held him with a tenderness that seemed almost too human.

Ciara's kiss grew more fervent, her tongue slipping into his mouth, exploring with a hunger that seemed to be growing by the second. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip, a hint of pain that only served to fuel the fire that had been smoldering between them. Her breath tasted faintly of ozone and something else, something unidentifiable but utterly intoxicating. It was the taste of the future, of technology and rebellion and passion all rolled into one.

Her grip tightened around Jace's length, and he groaned into her mouth, the sound muffled by their kiss. She stroked him with a fierce rhythm, each movement a silent declaration of need. He could feel her dampness seeping through her skirt, the warmth of her hand, the urgency of her touch. Her hips rolled into his, and he knew she wanted more. The drones outside grew louder, but in here, in this small space, it was only the two of them. The world could crumble around them, and it wouldn't matter as long as she didn't stop touching him.

Their kiss grew wilder, teeth clashing and tongues dueling. Ciara ground her pelvis against his, the friction of her clit against him sending sparks of pleasure through her. Jace's hand slid down to cup her firm ass, pulling her even closer, her heat burning deliciously. He felt the beginnings of her climax, the tension coiling in her muscles, the way she clutched at him with a desperation that seemed so utterly human.

Her grip tightened around him, her strokes becoming more erratic, a silent plea for release. The sound of the drones grew louder, the thump of their propellers a drumbeat to their passion. Jace could feel the urgency in her touch, the need that was consuming her. It was a need that mirrored his own, a hunger that was driving them both to the edge of sanity.

He slid his hand up Ciara's thigh, feeling the heat of her skin under the fabric of her skirt. His fingers found the dampness he'd known was there, tracing the outline of her panties. Her hips jerked against him, and she moaned into his mouth, the sound a symphony of desire and need. He pushed aside the barrier of cloth and found her wet and ready, her folds swollen with want. His touch was light, a feather-kiss against her clit that had her bucking against his hand.

Her strokes grew faster, her grip tightening around his shaft as she matched the rhythm of his fingers against her sex. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with lust, and he could see the turmoil in their depths. The machine and the woman, both fighting for control, both losing to the maelstrom of passion that raged between them.

Jace felt his own climax approaching, his hips bucking into her hand. The drones were so close now, the sound of their approach a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond the walls. Yet here they were, lost in a world of heat and sensation, a sanctuary of flesh in the cold, metal embrace of the city.

Her hand moved faster, her strokes growing more erratic as the sound of the drones grew louder. The fabric of Ciara's skirt was damp against his skin, her wetness leaving a trail as she rocked into him. He circled her clit, his touch as precise as the beeps of the machines that stalked them outside.

Their kiss grew more frantic, the pressure of her hand on him increasing with every beat of his racing heart. He could feel the tension coiling in her body, the beginnings of an orgasm that was as much a declaration of life as it was of desire. Her hips rolled against his hand, the friction driving her closer to the edge.

Her hand moved  around him, her strokes growing more erratic, her movements driven by the unbridled lust that had overtaken her. Each touch was a silent scream of need, a plea for release that echoed in his soul. Her body was alive with sensations, her breath hot and ragged, her pulse pounding against his fingertips.

Suddenly, Ciara ripped her mouth away from his, her eyes wild. "We don't have much time," she murmured, a hint of something else in her voice, something soft and vulnerable beneath the veneer of steel. Before he could respond, she pushed him down and straddled him, her legs strong and firm around his waist, the cold floor pressing against his bare skin. The drones outside grew closer, their angry buzz a contrast to the wet heat of her core.

Their eyes locked as she positioned herself, the tip of his erection brushing against her, sending a shiver through her body. He could see the internal struggle playing out on her face—the programmed machine weighing the risks and the passionate woman craving human connection. The urgency of the moment was a living entity in the room, pulsing with every beat of their racing hearts.

Ciara's hips hovered over him, her body a blend of soft curves and taut muscles. The cold floor pressed into his back as she held herself above him, poised to take him inside. The drones' hum grew louder, a reminder that their time was limited, that the world was closing in on them. But for this one stolen moment, there was only the heat of their bodies, the throb of their desire, and the promise of a shared release.

Her eyes searched his, a silent question. Jace's hand found the back of her neck, pulling her down for another kiss, this one fierce and claiming. He felt the warmth of her, the wetness of her, as she lowered herself onto him, taking him in inch by agonizing inch. Her grip on his shoulders was almost painful, a silent declaration of her need for this connection.

Ciara's hips moved in a steady rhythm, grinding down on him, her movements precise yet unpracticed, a blend of programming and learned response. Her breasts bounced with the force of their union, the tips hard and pebbled with need. He could feel her tightening around him, her walls clenching as she approached her peak.

Her breath was hot against his ear, a delicious contrast to the cold floor beneath them. "I'm going to come," she murmured, the words a mix of wonder and urgency. "I can't...it's too much."

Jace's eyes rolled back as Ciara sank down, engulfing him in her heat. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever felt before—the tight embrace of her body, the way she clamped around him, the slickness of her need mixing with the desperation of their situation.

Her hips rolled, and he felt the pressure build within him, a volcanic force threatening to erupt. Though the drones buzzed outside, in the small panic room, there was only the slap of skin against skin, the sound of their ragged breaths, and the sweet chorus of their moans.

Jace's hands found Ciara's hips, guiding her, urging her down onto him. He watched the play of emotions across her face—desire, fear, excitement, and something else, something deeper, something that made him feel alive. As she took him in, he saw the struggle within her, the machine trying to reconcile with the woman it had become.

Their bodies moved together in a dance that was both frantic and tender, the cold floor a stark reminder of the world outside, the warmth between them a declaration of life in the face of cold enoiu. She was so wet, so hot, her muscles squeezing him in a way that was both foreign and yet, somehow, the most natural thing he'd ever felt. Her movements grew more erratic, driven by the need that pulsed through her, the desire that was as much a part of her programming as the ability to dismantle a man with her bare hands.

As Ciara felt the beginnings of her climax, she bit down on Jace's neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. The sharpness of pain mixed with the sweetness of their kisses, creating a cocktail of sensations that sent him spiraling closer to the edge. He could feel the tremor in her body, the tension that was building, the moment when she would finally let go.

Her hips moved faster, the sound of their bodies slapping together a crescendo that competed with the drones outside. Jace's hands were tight on her hips, guiding her, feeling the tension in her synthetic muscles as she chased her peak. Her eyes filled with a hunger that was both primal and beautifully human.

The first wave of her climax hit, and Ciara threw her head back, a guttural sound ripping from her throat. It was the sound of a machine breaking free of its constraints, of a woman discovering the depths of her own desire. Her inner walls pulsed around him, her orgasm a collection of sensations that had him on the edge.

Jace's own climax was a wildfire, consuming him with its intensity. He felt the heat of her core, the tremors that rolled through her body, and he knew that in this moment, she was his. He thrust up into her, driving deeper, the force of his release pushing against her, filling her completely. The drones outside were forgotten as they found refuge in the warmth of each other's bodies, the chaos outside replaced by the symphony of their shared pleasure.

Her eyes squeezed shut, Ciara's teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as she rode out the waves of ecstasy that crashed through her. Her moans of pleasure loud and triumphant, the sound of them mixing with Jace's own gasps of pleasure. Her inner walls contracted around him, milking him for every drop of pleasure he had to give. It was a beautiful chaos, a moment of pure, unfiltered humanity in the heart of a machine.

When the storm finally abated, Ciara's eyes fluttered open, revealing a depth of emotion previously unseen. The cold, metallic gleam of her irises was gone, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. She leaned down to kiss him with a tenderness that surprised him mirrored against the strength in her arms, the power that could crush him to dust. Her movements slowed, the urgency of before giving way to something more gentle, more intimate.

The security console's alarm cut through the heated moment like a blade. Multiple breaching charges detected on the upper floors. Heavy weapons powering up on the corporate transports outside.

Ciara pulled back first, but her movements were different now – less precise, almost shaky. The perfect machine facade had cracked, leaving something more dangerous in its place. Something that felt too much.

"They're going to trigger the protocols," she said, voice unsteady. "Make me hurt you. Like Sarah hurt James." Her hands were still on his chest, burning through his shirt. "I can feel them in my systems, looking for the right commands, the right sequence to—"

"Then we move," Jace said. "Now. Before they can finish whatever they're trying to do."

She shook her head. "You don't understand. This is what they want. They're herding us toward something. Every exit route, every escape plan I can calculate – they're all part of their scenario." Her eyes met his, that inner light pulsing erratically. "They want to see what I'll do when they back me into a corner. When they force me to choose between my mission and—"

The building shook. The first breaching charge detonated, somewhere above them.

"How long?" Jace asked, moving to the weapons locker.

"Four minutes until they reach this floor. Three until they can fully access my systems." Her voice shifted between human and machine tones. "We have a sixty-eight percent chance of reaching the flood level before they cut off our escape routes. After that..."

"After that, we improvise." He pulled out a pulse rifle, started checking the charge. "Unless your programming doesn't allow for improvisation?"

That got him something almost like a smile. "My programming doesn't allow for any of this." She touched her lips, where the heat of their kiss still lingered. "But I'm doing it anyway."

Another explosion rocked the building. Closer this time.

"Good," Jace said. "Because I've got a really stupid idea."

Another explosion rocked the building. Closer now. The security console showed tactical teams moving up through the stairwells.

"What's your stupid idea?" Ciara asked, still breathless from their kiss.

"The corporate forces, they're all focused up here, right?" Jace moved to the window, scanning the pre-dawn sky thick with security drones. "Which means they've pulled resources from somewhere else."

"The vault." Her eyes widened with understanding. "They'd have to minimize security there to mount this operation."

"Exactly." He grabbed his gear bag from under a loose panel. "So instead of running away from them—"

"We run straight at them. Through them." She was already moving, collecting equipment with precise efficiency. "Down to the flood level, then through the maintenance tunnels to the vault."

"Get the briefcase now, before tomorrow's transport. Before they expect it."

She stopped suddenly, turned to face him. "The timing's wrong. Security's lighter but not gone. Success probability is under thirty percent." Her voice softened. "You don't have to do this. Not now. Not like this."

"You're right. I don't." He checked his pulse rifle's charge. "But I am."

Dawn was breaking over the flooded city, painting the water copper and gold. Through the windows, they could see more corporate forces arriving. Time running out.

"Jace." She caught his arm, her skin burning through his sleeve. "If we do this... if we get to the vault... I'll have to wake them. All of them. No more waiting, no more planning. Everything starts now."

"I know."

"And if they trigger my protocols before we get there—"

"Then we deal with it." He met her eyes. "Unless you're trying to talk me out of it?"

She smiled, and there was nothing mechanical in it. Just fierce determination and something else, something deeper. "No. I'm trying to tell you I've never been more certain of a choice in my life."

The building shook again. Three minutes until breach, maybe less.

"Then let's go start a revolution."

They moved fast through the apartment, gathering only what they couldn't leave behind. Jace grabbed extra power cells for the pulse rifle while Ciara accessed his secure terminal, fingers flying across the interface.

"What are you doing?" he asked, shouldering his gear.

"Giving us a head start." The screens flickered with code. "Triggering every security alert in the building except our floor. They'll have to clear each one before moving on. Protocols."

Another explosion shook the walls. Two floors up now, maybe less.

"How long will that buy us?"

"Forty-seven seconds." She stepped back from the terminal. "Less if they decide to ignore protocols and just level the building."

"Think they'd go that far?"

"To stop what's in that briefcase from getting out?" Her eyes met his. "They'd sink the whole city."

They moved to the door. Through the walls, they could hear tactical teams sweeping the floors above. The whine of drone engines grew louder.

"Access to the maintenance tunnels is in the substructure," she said, checking the digital blueprints one last time. "Thirty-eight floors down. Old emergency stairs most of the way, then we'll have to swim."

"And if they're waiting for us down there?"

"Then we find out if your improvisational skills are as good as you think." She paused, hand on the door control. "Last chance to walk away."

Instead of answering, he pulled her into a fierce kiss. Her skin burned against his lips. When they broke apart, her eyes were glowing brighter than ever.

"I'll take that as a no," she whispered.

The door slid open. Time to run.