It surprised her, actually, when she reached the doorway at the end of the hall. She had expected to end up in a massive lab,or something that was obviously correct. The door was marked with a red symbol, “Biological weaponry. PPE required.”
She rolled her eyes even as her stomach churned and her brain reminded her that she could, in fact, be exposing herself to something dangerous. Personal protective equipment wasn’t something she had time to find. It was far too late to think about that.
She swiped the key card, and the light on the tab flashed red, red, red, and finally, green. She heard the click of the lock, and anxiety swirled in her gut as she pushed the handle down. She’d arrived. The door clicked softly behind her as it closed. She felt no relief. She’d made it this far, but still had to find the weapon and get out. She could do this.
The room was lined with temperature controlled cases. Each case had a glass front, and labels on the vials. She was looking for one labeled “DF23.” Beyond that, Carver would know the details. All of the details needed for this part were probably in his brief. Command was so forceful about the two of them working together. So determined that they be in the lab at the same time.
It was her job to get them this far, and his job to get them out. She squared her shoulders. She was capable of both. Of course she was.
She glanced through all of the labels of diseases and antidotes, fear creeping its way into her stomach. They had far more than Quorath had even dreamed possible. If Command knew the kinds of weapons Noxvalis possessed, would they even believe the war was something that could be won?
She reached the back of the room before she spotted it, a tray of vials labeled DF23. Success. She carefully opened the case, and pulled the tray out. She held up a vial to the light from the case. It was light purple. How could something so small cause such large issues? She didn’t even want to think about the consequences of Noxvalis using this kind of biological weapon.
She looked around the room for a bag, or anything that she could use to carry these. She found a cloth sack and carefully set the vials inside as she did so. They clinked against each other, but the glass was thick enough that she thought they would be fine. She’d grab a towel and wrap them in it for better piece of mind. She counted each one as she folded them within a towel. 9.
There were only 9. There were supposed to be 10. If what Command said was true, even one vial could wreck havoc. She scanned the case, hoping that maybe the vial had gotten mixed in with something else.
The vials in the case were all different colors. Blood red, vomit green, blue, yellow. She didn’t know what kind of formulas would cause the array of colors, and truthfully, the idea of understanding terrified her. There wasn’t another one that was purple. Not even close to the same shade.
She groaned. Not good. But what could be done about it? She glanced at her watch, and was shocked to see over two hours had passed. She’d spent more time in that room with genetics then she had realized.
It was too late to find the vial. It could be anywhere. It could have even been removed from the lab. They could be planning on using it already. It could be ready for deployment, and the festival a cover for the biggest weapon unveiling yet. Her brain spun and she forced herself to breathe and focus. In and out. In and out. What was next?
She had to get to the door and be ready for the guard change. She had to get these out of the city, and warn Carver about what could be coming.
She resisted the urge to run down the hallway. Though she had encased the vials as best she could, she couldn’t afford cracking a single one. Again, she didn’t run into another person. The lab continued through its endless slew of noises. A living, breathing mechanism of its own.
She reached the door way and glanced at her watch. The guards should be changing within the next 20 minutes. She slipped into the first alcove she had hidden in, waiting to hear any sign of movement outside. Her heart pounded, but she smiled. She had done it.
Well, basically. She had the vials, she was at the extraction point, she was successful. She heard movement outside, and stood to let herself out, but instead the doors opened. Lights in the hallway flickered on, and deafening alarms began.
48CLARA
She felt the panic climb her throat. Instantly. She had never been caught—never triggered alarms. She was always in and out. She was always invisible. The shadow. The Eclipse. Never expected and never revealed. Pure destruction with no warnings and no discourse.
The alarm resounded through her head as she ran. She kept the bag slung across her body, knives in her hands. She wouldn’t have time for subtlety or hesitation. A picture flashed across her mind. Carver, as he muttered “I can’t do this anymore.” And walked away. He hadn’t given her the chance to respond. Three years ago and she still hadn’t responded.
She had to make it out of this alive. And when she did, she would tell him exactly what she thought of him. She would tell him off at every point and explain precisely why what he did was so wrong. She would bring him to reason, and then she would be the one to walk away.
She was almost to the door. She could hear boots behind her. She didn’t get a chance to press the button and open the doors. The hallway narrowed as it led to the doors, allowing only one soldier through with ease. The first soldier calmly stepped into the hall, standing mere feet from her. He held a knife, casuallytossing it in the air. No guns in the labs. She flipped her own knives in her hands as she faced him. “Hello,” she grinned.
The one in front curled his lips at her. “You’re who they sent?” The other soldiers didn’t advance behind him, leaving him standing in the hallway’s entrance. Clara couldn’t see how many soldiers were behind him.
It was only a matter of time until the soldiers outside the door responded to the alarms, at which point the doors behind her would open and she would truly be surrounded. She needed to dispose of the ones in front of her before that happened.
“Surprise.” She shot back.
He laughed, and she almost dropped her guard at the shocking sound. “I thought our enemies would have at least given us a challenge.”
She batted her eyelashes, “Oh, they did.” She took the bag off of her shoulder, setting it off to the side. He watched her curiously, as though she would be easily disposed of. Little did he know.
The second the bag hit the ground, she tossed the knife in her right hand, hitting him in the neck. He groaned, grasping for the knife but she was already there. She removed it and finished the slice across his throat, entirely tuning out his gasping.
He slumped to the floor and she was already prepared for the next soldier. It became repetition. Duck, dodge, launch, whatever it took to make that final slice. She couldn’t keep count of the soldiers. Her own breathing came in gasps as the metallic scent overwhelmed her lungs, but she couldn’t stop. One after the other, she made it.
Adrenaline fed her veins and ran through her brain. None of it felt real. All she knew was it was her or them.
The doors behind her opened, and it was the first moment she recognized since the soldiers had started trailing in. She threw a knife at the next soldier coming into the entryway, andit glinted off his cheek buying her just enough time. She grabbed the bag and threw it over her shoulder, grateful she added the towel to protect the vials and hoping nothing broke.
