Three seconds.
Yuri's torn between conflicting imperatives: respond to the threat or stay with Fee.
Two seconds.
Fee peers around the chair edge, that brilliant mind already analyzing, calculating, seeking patterns in the chaos.
One.
I hit ENTER.
The lights die.
Total darkness swallows the fifth floor. I pull on the night vision monocular. The world turns green. Clear.
Yuri's a dark shape in the waiting room, weapon raised, covering the main entrance.
His back is to me.
I step out of the maintenance closet, Glock raised, suppressor already threaded. The shot needs to be clean—center mass, non-lethal placement. I don't want her to hate me for killing Yuri, but I need him down.
The suppressed shot sounds like a palm slapping concrete. Yuri jerks, stumbles. But doesn't fall.
He spins toward me, weapon tracking even while hit. Training overrides pain.
The emergency lights flicker on. Dim red glow. And Fee sees everything.
Sees Yuri bleeding, gun raised. Sees me, weapon aimed at her protector.
Sees the exact moment Yuri pulls his trigger.
The shot goes wide, impacting the wall behind me, but his second doesn't.
The impact slams into my left shoulder, spinning me slightly. Pressure. Heat. But no pain.
Fee screams. "No!"
Yuri's voice cracks with desperation and fury, placing himself between Fee and me. "Stay behind me," he tells her.
Two shots. Both center mass, both placed precisely where they need to be. Yuri's vest stops the first. The second finds the gap at his side. He drops.
Fee screams again, and I catch her arm. "He'll live," I tell her. "The shots were placed carefully."
Yuri's on the floor, breathing harsh and wet. One hand pressed to his side, the other still gripping his weapon. Even bleeding out, he's trying to raise it.
I kick the gun away, pulling the syringe from my pocket. I kneel beside him, jam the needle into his neck, and depress the plunger.
The compound works fast. His body seizes, legs going rigid, then slack.
I stand, turning to Fee, who's frozen in horror.
"Yuri!" She lunges toward him.
"Stop."
She freezes. Eyes locked on the syringe, on Yuri's twitching form.
"What are you doing to him?" Her voice shakes but holds steady. "What did you give him?"
