Chapter 5 - The Cipher in the FurRoman didn't look at the unconscious men bleeding onto his floor. He holstered his weapon, walked over to where Luna stood over the downed operative, and placed a heavy, calloused hand on her back.
"Easy, girl. Off," he commanded softly.
Luna released her grip on the man's arm, stepping back with a low huff of breath. Her muzzle was stained with a dark streak of blood that wasn't hers. She looked up at Roman, her amber eyes clear, intelligent, and entirely devoid of panic.
"Good girl," Roman murmured, running his hand down her spine. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small leather pouch, and tossed a single square of dried beef toward her. She caught it out of the air with a crisp snap of her jaws.
I crawled out from behind the workbench, my hands shaking so badly I could barely keep my fingers curled. I looked at the two men on the floor—one unconscious, one bleeding out from a flesh wound in his shoulder.
"They found us," I whispered, the reality of the situation crashing down like a physical weight. "How did they find us this fast? This is a safehouse, isn't it? You said nobody knew about this place."
"Nobody local," Roman corrected, kneeling beside the second operative and methodically stripping his comms headset, tactical knife, and backup magazines. "Which means Miller didn't track us through cell towers or traffic cameras. He tracked us through the asset."
I stared at him, my mind spinning. "What do you mean, the asset? Luna?"
"Luna isn't just a traumatized dog, Odessa," Roman said, standing up and tossing the confiscated gear onto the workbench. He walked over to the heavy oak table, picked up a sterile medical kit, and began tearing open a packet of gauze. "She's carrying an encrypted data-microchip dermally implanted beneath her skin. That's why Miller's men keep hunting her across the city. That's what my brother smuggled out of Pier 9 before they executed him."
The room seemed to tilt sideways. I grabbed the edge of the workbench to keep from falling.
"An implant? In a dog?" My voice came out as a squeak. "You microchipped a living, breathing animal with stolen cartel data?"
"It wasn't a cartel," Roman corrected sharply, kneeling down by Luna. He began running his fingers gently through the thick, coarse fur behind her left shoulder blade, pressing down in a precise pattern. "It was an international shipping syndicate using Pier 9 to move unauthorized cargo—including human trafficking and weapons grade tech. My brother was their head accountant. When he tried to shut it down, they killed him. He downloaded the ledger onto a military-grade micro-transponder and slipped it under Luna's skin before they cornered him in the kennel yards."
Luna didn't flinch as Roman’s fingers found a small, hard lump beneath her skin. She just leaned her head against his knee, trusting him completely.
"And Miller wants the ledger," I said, the pieces clicking together with terrifying clarity. "If he gets it, he controls the entire port. If you keep it, you destroy them."
"And if you stay here any longer," Roman added, looking up from the floor with those cold, grey eyes, "you die with us."
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He stood up, walking over to me until he was standing so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest. He reached out, his fingers catching my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye.
"Pack a bag, Odessa. We're running."
