The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) Bella Forrest (most read book in the world TXT) 📖

the original rendezvous point—meet back at the van in ten minutes. Don’t be late.

Solomon and I exchanged looks, and I raised my hand to my collar, clicking the link over to Solomon’s channel. Keep moving, I said and he hesitated. What is it? I asked, nudging him.

There weren’t supposed to be guards in the building, he said, shifting his weight.

So? Owen gave us the green light. Let’s go.

Still, he didn’t move, and my patience was wearing thin. He risked a glance over his shoulder at me. Protocol is that we bug out. We aren’t supposed to die over this.

And then I saw it—for all of Solomon’s quiet confidence, he was afraid. I was too, but I had a clear image of what was at stake. I couldn’t wait around for him to decide, and I didn’t have time to waste in convincing him.

You do what you like, I told him, turning my gaze from him to the hall that stretched out before us. I’m getting Viggo’s cure.

I started to move past him, but he held out an arm, stopping me. There was a long pause before he subvocalized, I’m with you then. He shifted and began moving down the hall. I followed, placing my feet as quietly on the floor as possible and trying to keep my feelings of relief at bay. I meant what I had told him—I was going to get Viggo’s cure.

Even though we were using silencers, the wardens would figure out what was going on in a few minutes, especially if they found the guard. We paused long enough to shove the guard’s body under a desk. I grabbed his jacket from the chair and used it to wipe up the trail of blood as best I could. I felt a sharp tug of regret and took a moment to close the man’s eyelids, his blank expression seeming almost accusatory in my eyes.

I took a deep breath and met Solomon’s steady gaze, turning my mind back to the mission.

Which room did Thomas say it was in? he asked me.

I knew exactly where it was, but I pulled my arm up and gazed at the handheld that I had secured to it.

Straight down the hall, right turn down the next hall, third door on the left, I reminded him.

He nodded and pressed forward in a crouching walk, keeping his body low to the ground. I followed, my gun pulled up. I gave one last look at the man under the desk as I did so, hoping that I wouldn’t have to pull the trigger, and that his death would be the first and last on this mission.

11

Violet

We had made it halfway down the hall when the sound of approaching footsteps forced us to halt. I leaned forward and tried the door directly in front of us, but the doorknob refused to turn.

What now? I asked Solomon.

I saw his reply as he quickly backtracked, his boots barely making a sound. I followed closely, and then watched as he shoved his gun and bag under the desk before activating his suit, disappearing in front of my eyes. I hurried to do the same, the footsteps approaching much more quickly than I was comfortable with.

It had taken a while to get used to the suit. Owen had explained that it acted as an electrical conduit when a user activated it by tensing muscles. Once they did, it allowed the wearer to go invisible. He had explained that it would also camouflage any organic matter it came into contact with, which was why we didn’t have to wear face masks or gloves, but it wouldn’t work on inorganic items that weren’t under the suit. Which was why we weren’t wearing bulletproof vests: It wouldn’t work on them, and they were too bulky to go underneath. According to Owen, the scientists were working on a way of inserting plates in the suit, but the material used to craft it was rare and difficult to get, so it was slow going. It wasn’t perfect—flashlights and thermal scanners would register a user regardless; however, it did allow people to turn invisible—provided they weren’t holding something. If they were, it would look like the object was floating in midair.

At first, activating the suit had hurt—it created a sharp pins-and-needles sensation across the entirety of my skin. However, once I had gotten used to it, Owen and I had run through drills, from anything as simple as eating a bowl of food to more complicated drills that involved running, opening a door… basically anything where movement was required. I’d learnt rudimentary control over the suit, although interacting with objects was difficult when I tried to pair it with moving.

Almost immediately I felt the corresponding tingle as the suit engaged. The electric thrill that coursed under my skin to all of my extremities might have become less painful with practice, but it was still weird. It felt like after my foot had gone to sleep, trying to force blood back into the area. It was a constant barrage of prickling, all over my body.

I focused on my breathing and kept my eyes on the hall in front of me. I wanted to avoid moving—my control over the suit was still tenuous.

The sound of the boots on the floor became a cacophony of rolling thunder down the narrow hall. I pressed up against the wall—a small movement that almost broke my concentration—just as one man walked in, holding a flashlight. I refrained from wincing and held my breath, watching the beam of his light as he swung it around the room.

The beam swept toward me, and I prepared myself to leap at him as soon as it interacted with the suit, hoping that the sudden appearance of me in the darkness would surprise him enough that I could get an advantage over him. Hopefully, Solomon would get involved as well—we had sparred a few times and he was a solid