Turncoat by Megan Derr (the false prince series txt) 📕

They hauled across forest and field, a monotony of crunching steps, panting breaths, and the occasional string of cusswords. By the time they reached their destination, Dixie was ready for a hot toddy. Preferably one that was all whiskey and to hell with the rest of the ingredients.

Byron's hands moved briskly as he signaled that he and Leland were headed off. Dixie signed an acknowledgement, one hand resting lightly on his gun as he covered them. When they were out of sight, he turned to Greg, who was kneeling in the snow and pulling equipment out of his bag.

A few minutes later, Dixie's eye flashed as he got the go signal from Byron. He motioned to Greg, didn't even need to see his face to know he was grinning ear to ear behind that mask. Hefting his bag, Greg darted out of the tree line and headed for the house, and Dixie followed close behind.

Roger House's fancy cabin was a pain in the ass in several ways, but the first hurdle was that there was no access at all on the first floor. According to the blueprints it went down one story below ground, the ground level was completely enclosed, and there was limited access on the second floor. Most of the natural light was provided by way of special-made skylights that were covered by heavy duty steel panels at night. As were the windows and doors, sealing House up at night.

Too bad all the panels in the world couldn't keep out clever little kittens.

Greg vanished through the nearest wall as they reached the house and Dixie circled around to the back. The door there was one story up, and the staircase and landing up to it had been retracted. Dixie could scale the wall easily enough, but he'd just be clinging to it waiting to fall. There wasn't even a door, yet, that was covered by a metal panel the same as every other access point, and the only way to through was a control panel inside the house.

Just as he was starting to get twitchy, Dixie got a text. Okay, I'm here. I've got the cover off the panel. What's next?

Should be a slot along the bottom, off to the right. See it?

Yep.

That's where you put my bug. Just slide it and let it work.

Here goes nothing.

A couple of minutes later, Dixie's left eye flared as his software went to work, hiccupping the system in a way that would make it think the blip was harmless, giving them enough wiggle room that Dixie was able to open the back door.

It was smart of House not to have any access panels on the outside of the house, but not smart enough. Dixie grinned as the protective metal panel slid up and the door swung open. A rope came tumbling down and Dixie quickly climbed up. Greg offered a hand at the top and hauled Dixie inside. Rolling to his feet, Dixie closed and locked the door, then ordered the panel back down, and all was back as it should be right as the window provided by the hiccup closed.

Dixie lightly touched Greg's shoulder, the closest they could get to a victory crow at present. Now for the next part. Full scan, alert at once if Robert House stirs. He rolled his mask up to see better; nearby, Greg had done the same. Dixie signaled him to wait, then headed off following memorized blueprints. Thankfully, there were no motion sensors or cameras to deal with. House had apparently tried, once, but the mountain itself made it all too difficult to maintain—especially the motion detectors. House was going to regret not working a little harder at the problem, but it was probably going to be way, way down on his list of regrets by the end of the night.

The panel guarding the control room took ten minutes to get past, but only because Dixie was being super cautious. Once inside the control room, things got trickier. The hiccup he'd caused to get inside was one thing—the system was accustomed to that kind of blip, given the way the location would fuck with the power even on a good day. If the power was down too long, however, alerts were sent out.

So he was gonna have to kill the power while making the rest of the world think everything was running fine. And ensure that House wouldn't be able to bring the systems properly back online any time soon. Easiest way to do that was to get up close and personal.

Reaching into one of his pockets, Dixie pulled out a special cord. He found the correct port on the computer and plugged it in, then connected the other end to the back of his neck.

Unregistered user.

Dixie snorted and took care of that with barely a thought. When his software had made him and the system old friends, he settled in to the rewriting.

Twenty minutes later, he disconnected and sent out a group text. System is ours. Let's party.

Returning to Greg, he said, "Got the smoke?"

Greg nodded, lifted the innocuous looking metallic blue canister he'd pulled out of his bag. "Let's go."

Hefting his bag, Dixie followed Greg up the stairs and down the hall to House's bedroom. "Here goes nothing," Greg muttered, then phased through the door. Dixie strained to hear anything, but between Greg's ability to be silent when he really wanted and all the expensive soundproofing, all Dixie heard was his own pounding heart.

A couple of minutes passed and then Greg pulled the door open and held an arm out. "All yours."

"Let's get this over with, then," Dixie said, swallowing the nerves that ratcheted up as it finally sank into every crevice of his mind that this was it. Soon they'd have the chip, and not long after that, he'd be back inside the Mason System. An idea started by his granddaddy and made to flourish by his daddy. An idea