Clenching his jaw, he rode it out, pushing himself up onto his haunches as acrid smoke filled the corridor and the crackling of fried circuits joined the siren’s pulse.
Vic was up too, shaking his head to clear it, and then the pair of them cautiously ventured forward, stepping over chunks of masonry.
One of the battle-droids had been blown to bits, while its companion dragged itself through the rubble toward them, red eyes focused on them with eerie intensity.
Vic didn’t waste any time. Dodging its grasping hand, he drew the laser-pistol at his hip and shot the droid at the spot at the base of its neck, as he’d shown them before exiting the tunnel earlier.
Malik stepped around the inert droid, removing his earplugs as he went. The window the battle-droids had been standing before was cracked from the blast, yet he could still see through it.
A tall, dark-haired man clad in a flowing white tunic and pants stood within.
27. NECESSITY
CATHAL MIR-BRENNAN’S GAZE fixed upon the window, his face taut.
For a moment, Malik thought the man was looking straight at him, but then he realized the door was one-way glass.
The clan-lord knew there had been an explosion outside his cell. But he had no idea who was out there.
Glancing down at the keypad, Malik frowned. There wasn’t any point in trying that—he’d never guess the pin. Instead, they’d have to enter the cell using brute force.
He shifted forward and pressed the comm next to the door. “My Lord, it’s Captain Malik … stand back and protect your face. We’re coming in.”
Cathal’s eyes snapped wide. He then obeyed, moving to stand against the far wall, raising an arm to shield his face.
Satisfied, Malik shifted back a few paces, took aim at the glass with his rifle, and fired.
The panel jolted, a spiderweb of fine cracks splintering across its surface.
Together, Malik and Vic kicked it in.
Around them, the alarm had increased in pitch; there was a hysterical edge to it now.
They’d know the detention block had been breached. Reinforcements would be arriving.
“Captain!” Cathal pushed himself off the wall and approached. “How did you—”
“No time to explain, My Lord,” Malik cut in. Usually, he’d never dare interrupt the man he served, but he did so now. “Lady Jenna is freeing your wife and daughter as we speak … we’re meeting them in the landing bay.”
“Let’s go,” Vic growled. “Time’s short.”
The three men crunched over the rubble, skirting the remains of the two battle-droids. The shoulder and arm of one of them—the one Vic had finished off—was still twitching, despite that it had been blown to pieces.
The sight made Malik’s skin crawl; those things were virtually indestructible.
Leaving behind the chaos they’d created in order to free the clan-lord, they hurried back toward the entrance to Level 3.
They were halfway there when the thunder of booted feet approaching made all three men skid to a halt.
“It looks like we won’t be getting out this way,” Malik announced.
The first of the Mir-Ferrins—a squad of armored cyborgs—rounded the corner, only to be cut down by Malik and Vic. As soon as they’d caused the oncoming unit to pause for a moment, Malik jerked his head to his companions. “This way.”
Vic offered no complaint. They’d already discussed the possibility that they’d have to take the service conduit up to the landing bay. Detention blocks were constructed to be difficult to get out of, and the Mir-Ferrins would have both the main elevators and the service lifts guarded now.
Likewise, Cathal held his tongue. His face was set in grim lines, and he nodded his thanks when Malik passed him a pistol.
All of them needed to be armed.
