Chapter 41

**Sloane**

I holster my sidearm and, brushing aside a loose rug that doesn’t look like it belongs. Typical. The manual override is always hidden in the dumbest place. Paranoia makes men think no one will ever look under their feet. My fingers find the edge of the panel, and I pry it open. A mess of wires and blinking lights stares back at me like a neural network from hell. “Figures,” I mutter. “S