The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (ebook reader for laptop TXT) 📗

bed, and flopped back on the pillows. Dr. Tierney gave me a nod and then moved back to her desk, mumbling something under her breath. I caught the word arrogant, and sighed, swiveling my head toward Violet.

Her face had softened slightly, and she had relaxed her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Viggo,” she said, closing the gap between us. She pressed her thumb to the lines across my forehead, massaging them. I blew out and tried to relax. The alarm bells had stopped as I had been trying to get up.

Violet gazed at me earnestly, and I mustered a smile for her. “Go,” I muttered. “I’ll…uh, be here when you get back.”

She leaned down and kissed my lips. “Thank you. Don’t worry—I’ll be back soon and I promise I’ll fill you in on everything.”

I watched her back away, keeping her eyes on me, before she whirled around and hurried out of the door.

I heaved a sigh and looked at Dr. Tierney.

“So, how long do I have to rest?” I asked, dreading the answer.

18

Violet

I burst into Desmond’s office, my breathing coming in rasps. Desmond was on her handheld, talking to a blurry image. I heard a voice piping through it, but it took me a moment to register that it was Thomas.

“It’s bad, Des. It looks like the Matrians rigged the support beams on the bottom level with enough explosive to collapse all the levels. This is why they haven’t come—they haven’t needed to.”

Desmond’s frown intensified. “How were they able to activate it? You told me this place didn’t share a direct line with them.”

“They didn’t need to have a direct line—apparently there’s a code that needs to be input monthly. No code was ever entered, so it triggered the protocol.”

Cursing, Desmond lowered the handheld, her other hand clenched. She exhaled, then took a deep breath in, relaxing the tight muscles in her face. She slowly raised the handheld back up to her mouth and spoke with deliberate words.

“Tell me you have a way to stop this,” she said.

“Plug me into the network there.”

Desmond hurried over to the computer and I stepped over to where Owen was standing. His mouth was turned downward in a pensive frown.

“What’s going on?” I whispered. “I feel like I missed the first part of this. The place is rigged to blow?”

Owen bobbed his head up and down a few times. “We kept asking that same question you were asking in The Green that one night: Why hasn’t anyone come to do something with the base? Now we know why—they were just letting the clock on it run out.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“I’m reading the code here, and it’s bad,” Thomas said. “Once the window to input the code is missed, the computer stops receiving any messages from the mainframe. There are also messages set to be sent when the detonator activates, so that they know when it went off.”

Desmond placed both fists on the desk. “Thomas, I have over a thousand people here whom I cannot evacuate and a little over five minutes for you to find another solution. We are here—is there anything we can physically do to stop it?”

“I’m way ahead of you, Des—I pulled up the blueprints and schematics, and I have been isolating the electrical lines. There’s a way we can stop the explosion, while simultaneously letting the detonator go off, so the powers that be will think the building has been destroyed, but it’s tricky.”

“Tell us what to do, Thomas,” Owen said. “We’ll get it done.”

“You need to get to the main electrical station that’s under the lowest level. There’s a stairwell that leads down to it from—”

I was already moving. I snatched one of the radios from the desk and clicked it over to three as I headed toward the door. I held up three fingers as I went by, and watched as Owen grabbed another radio and followed.

I ran, knowing that there wasn’t enough time to walk. I remembered the room that Thomas was describing well, although I hadn’t known it was an electrical station then. But it was the only room that sat somewhere under the pit, so therefore, it was the only logical place to go. I trusted Desmond to get the details of what we needed to do, and Owen would help me to execute them.

I ran fast, only pausing long enough to open the doors. Owen quickly caught up with me, and together we entered the lowest level, our rapid footsteps clattering down the catwalk. I kept an eye on the numbers, and then took a left when I spotted the correct row.

Ahead of us, the catwalk extended to the wall where a gray door stood, barely lit by a yellow light.

I slowed as I reached the door and pulled it open. Owen darted past me down the stairwell, his boots clomping loudly. I clamored down after him. We likely had around two minutes left. We had to hope that Thomas’ instructions were simple.

We made it down to the lowest landing, and Owen didn’t hesitate. He threw open the door and rushed inside. Winded, we were both sweating profusely.

I held up the radio to my mouth and clicked the button. “Desmond, we’re here. What do we do?”

Her response was immediate. “Find the main console—lots of buttons and levers—go around to the back and pry it open.”

Owen scrambled behind the giant rectangular control box, and I heard the sound of metal bending and flexing. I staggered behind him and stared in horror at the multitude of hanging wires.

“Got it—but there are a lot of wires in here.”

“Ignore them, pull out the back panel. There should be three electrical cords running through it. You need to cut the middle one, at the same time that Owen disconnects the circuit… one-seventy-one through one-seventy-eight. It’s on the opposite wall.”

I looked at Owen who was already pulling the panel out, pushing the bundle of dangling wires to one side. I moved