Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. The beat of hesitation before she answered told Sydney everything she needed to know. Winter’s words had taken the young woman by surprise, and now she was considering the truth of it.
“That’s a relief,” she said to Winter.
Then she took the cube and shoved it in Winter’s mouth.
Winter froze, paralyzed, too afraid to move.
Penelope took a length of duct tape from one of the guards and sealed the cube tightly inside Winter’s mouth.
Sydney shivered at the cold efficiency of her movements contrasted with her wide, doe-like eyes.
“Thank you for your help,” she said. “I’ll have someone check for it.”
On the table, Winter closed his eyes and shivered against his gag. His hands continued to work.
Sydney laid her head down on the ground, as if exhausted by the truth coming out—but instead, she used the opportunity to study Winter.Don’t move,she pleaded silently.Don’t move.
He stared back at her. The look he gave her now wasn’t desperate or pleading—but meaningful. He swallowed behind the gag.
Sydney saw his hands twist again.
And in a flash, she understood.
Her eyes went to the nearest guard, then to the knife at his belt.
Penelope leaned back in her chair and shook her head in disappointment at Winter. “A perfect life,” she mused. She looked at Sydney. “And here you are, wasting it all for Panacea.”
Sydney tensed, prepared to make her move. Everything in her focused on Winter.
Then he suddenly lunged to one side. In the blink of an eye, his hand slipped through one of the bonds, and his arm came fully free. In the next instant, he’d ripped the tape from his mouth and spat the cube out into his hand.
At the same time, Sydney jumped to her feet. The guard beside her only had time to put his hand on the holster of his gun before she spun toward him and turned her back—her tied hands closed around the knife’s handle and yanked it out from his belt.
She sensed more than saw the man swing his gun toward her. She threw her entire weight at him—he lost his balance and toppled backward. As he did, she wedged the knife into the knot of the rope tying her hands and shoved it in as hard as she could. She felt the blade cut into the strands. Just enough.
She pulled against it with all her might.
The rope protested a second, then tugged free.
Then she glanced at Winter. At the same time that he tossed the cube toward her, she threw the knife toward him.
He caught the knife. She caught the cube through the rope.
Sydney could feel the burn of the cube in her hand. She put it on the ground and positioned her boot over it. “No one move,” she said.
Penelope stiffened. Two guards stepped forward, their bodies shielding her. Connor froze, eyeing them warily.
She looked at Winter.
There was only one place they could head to right now, their only potential link with the outside world. The bridge.
“Go,” she said quietly to Winter.
He met her gaze once, then darted out of the room. Somehow, she could tell that he knew exactly where she wanted him to head.
The bridge was at the opposite end of the ship—and they had a dozen armed men after them. She could feel the coming strain in her lungs already. Knew that she couldn’t make that kind of run.
And Winter had been shot in the shoulder.
