“Get to the fucking point, Ringo,” I hiss, keeping my voice low.
“It’s shift change, and apparently, they both do the midnight rounds, which we would have known if we surveilled it properly,” he says, making my vision go hazy.
Well, I’m good and fucked.
“And, uh, you’ve got two on the stairs, heading up to the fifth floor,” he says, his breath crackling in my earpiece.
“Great. I’ll just hop in the elevator. I’m sure that won’t be a death trap.” I scoff.
“We’ve got this. Just make sure you stay light on your feet.”
Ringo leads me through a fucked-up game of cat and mouse, but I manage to make it off the fifth floor and head down while the team is still clearing the rooms.
I’m out of breath by the time I make it to the second floor and trying to center myself for the final push.
“Jesus Christ,” Ringo mutters. “Are you hyperventilating?”
If he were here, I’d strangle him with my bare hands.
“Where is the other team?”
“Shit, man. Where are you?” he asks, making my blood run cold.
It’s kind of impressive, considering my pulse is pounding so violently that I can hear it in my ears.
“Second floor. I didn’t want to risk them hearing me,” I whisper.
“I told you to straight shot down to one,” Ringo says.
“No, you didn’t,” I hiss.
“Hands up. Get down on the fucking ground now,” a voice growls behind me.
The hoodie would obstruct my view if I tried to peek back, so I take my chances, heaving myself over the railing.
I land in a crouch four or five stairs down, but momentum isn’t on my side, and I go flying.
It’s not a graceful experience.
I’ll be fine, though.
Before I hit the landing, fire rips through my shoulder. It takes another half second to register the sound from the gunshot. I’m pretty sure it propels me forward even more violently.
Agony radiates down my arm and up my neck.
Motherfucker.
Where is my adrenaline when I need it?
Some people get seriously injured and don’t even realize it until they’re out of the crisis.
My head smacks against the concrete wall when I can’t get my good arm up in time.
The misery makes it tempting, but I can’t stay put.
I’m a sitting duck on the landing.
I’m not giving anyone an easy target, and the sound of boots landing on the stairs above me gets me moving.
