He shakes his head, letting me strap him in tight. “Don’t need one. Helaena gave me a little present before she gave that other nurse food poisoning.”
Right. I didn’t feel great, devising a way for Helaena to get eyes on Jo once it was confirmed she had been moved to the lab, but she was insistent.
Spying two tactical knives strapped to the lid of my secret compartment, I grab those and strap them to my thigh.
Suddenly, footsteps crunch nearby, and I whip my head up, only to relax when I see it’s Fuzzy and West.
“Camera’s down?” I ask, tossing West an unloaded handgun and a few mags. He catches them, and loads one mag before chambering a round and holding it at his side. He shoves the rest in his pocket and pats them lovingly.
“We’d be in deep shit if they weren’t.” He snorts at me, and I roll my eyes.
Fuzzy eyes the gun in West’s hand warily. “You ever used one of those before, Doc?”
He nods. “Sam’s dad taught us both how to shoot when we were seventeen. I’ve kept up on my training.”
I nod in confirmation. He’s no expert marksman, but I trust him to have our backs.
“Any idea about Declan?” Hayden takes his lighter out, flipping it anxiously.
“He said five. He’s never late.” Unfortunately, my signal scrambling software also jams all ofourcommunications, so we can’t get a real time update. I won’t feel totally at ease with this mission until I have a bullet-proof vest on. Right now the only one I have goes to Hayden, seeing as he’s the one Jo is connected to.
More footsteps sound, and initially I relax, thinking it’s Declan, but then my blood runs cold at the sound of Whitmore’s voice. “Well, well. What do we have here?”
twelve
Hayden
Fucking hell.
At least I’m wearing a bullet proof vest.
Whitmore approaches us in the parking lot, no less than fifteen armed guards behind him. Guards that I’ve…never seen before. They’re wearing these weird gray uniforms and bullet-proof vests. Whitmore crosses his arms. “Imagine my surprise when Tate came to the lab and asked me about the lockdown. A lockdown I didnotauthorize.”
IknewI hated Tate.
“So you admit there’s a lab?” West asks, but doesn’t dare take astep forward.
Whitmore lets out a humorless laugh. “I don’tadmitanything.” His eyes move from Fuzzy, to West, to Sam, and then land on me. He purses his lips. “I wonder…what do a cook, a psychologist, an orderly, and a patient all have in common?”
“Seems like the opener to a bad joke.” The words leave me before I can stop them. Sam sighs, and West stiffens like a barrage of bullets is going to rain down on us due to my bad quip.
“And the punchline must be Josephine Harding.” Whitmore nods like everything makes some sort of sense. “You’re obviously her scent match.” He nods at me, barely concealed disgust in his eyes. “As well as the Vasiliev bastard if the pregnant beta was correct. Which means…” His eyes fall on Fuzzy, Sam, and West.
Fuzzy raises his hands. “Fuck no. Not me. She’s young enough to be my daughter. Doesn’t mean I won’t kill you for her, though.”
And, IknewI loved Fuzzy, the grumpy bastard.
Whitmore smirks. “Noted. Well, since I have you all here, rounded up in a little group, it’ll be all too easy to explain away your demise. Well, everyone but Mr. Pierce here. Shame that he got the very men he offered to pay to help him escape killed.” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Such a shame, but money has a way of bringing out the worst in people.”
My blood runs cold. He’s going to…what? Just kill them and blame it on me? There’s fifteen of them, sixteen if you count Whitmore, and four of us. They all have bullet proof vests on while Sam, Fuzzy, and West are left utterly defenseless.
How thefuckare we going to get out of this?
But then…the best damn thing in the world happens.
A red dot appears right on Whitmore’s forehead, and my eyes follow it.
Declan’s here.
