She approached the lock with that calm, steady competence that always jarred me a little. She knelt, pulling a slim blade from her boot. She wedged the edge under the lock panel and popped it free with a soft click.
“Let me guess,” I said, watching her fingers work deftly. “You’ve done this before.”
She didn’t look up. “Perhaps.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She flicked her eyes to mine briefly, a smile edging at the corners of her lips. “Then stop asking questions you already know the answer to, big guy.”
Despite the situation, I felt heat slide through my spine straight to my cock. Later, when we got out of this mess, she was going to end up getting that tight little ass fucked again, but now was not the time for that.
Two more precise movements and then she slid a bobby pin she’d pulled from her hair into the lock. A faint scraping sound echoed inside the mechanism.
“You’ve got about fifteen seconds before the guards realize what’s happening,” she murmured.
“I only need five.”
I positioned myself by the door, body angled to strike the moment it opened. Katya applied pressure to the pick and turned it.
A muffled click sounded inside the lock.
She looked up at me. “Ready?”
I nodded. “Open it.”
She twisted the handle slowly, easing the door open by a few inches. The hallway beyond stretched out left and right. Two guards stood only a few feet away, facing in opposite directions, rifles at their sides but not ready.
Perfect.
I moved before Katya even finished opening the door. My arm snaked around the first man’s throat, pulling him back into the room. My palm clamped over his mouth to cut off his shout. Hestruggled, but I drove my elbow into his solar plexus, and he dropped to the floor gasping for breath. I hit him in the temple with my fist and knocked him out.
The second guard turned too late. Katya was on him in an instant, knife flashing across his wrist before he could lift his weapon. He hissed in pain, and she swept his legs out from underneath him with a quick, efficient kick. He hit the floor hard. I finished the job with one solid blow to the head.
Katya retrieved one of the guards’ sidearm and checked the magazine. “Twelve rounds.”
“Make every one of them count,” I said.
She gave me a look that said she always did.
I dragged the second unconscious guard into the room, shut the door, and locked it behind us.
Katya pointed to a side hall branching off the main corridor. “That one leads toward the back of the compound. There’ll be less traffic that way and we can make our way back to the plane and get out of this hell hole.”
“How do you know?”
“Airflow,” she said. “And the sound of echo versus absorption.”
I blinked. “Anything else you want to tell me about your disturbing list of skills?”
“Later.”
We moved quickly, staying as close to the walls as possible. We turned down the quieter hallway. Dim lights flickered overhead. The hum of machinery grew louder. I heard the faint buzz of a radio two intersections away.
Katya held up a hand. I stopped.
Two men passed the next junction, speaking in hushed tones about preparing equipment and something else about instructions from ‘the Founder.’ The way they said it made my stomach tighten again.
Katya gestured for me to follow her, and we ducked into a large, dark storage area. Shelves lined the walls. Ammunition crates. Spare uniforms. Tools. A ladder. A catwalk above.
