“Sorry, Ms. Carver,” one says, voice crisp, almost polite. “Boss’s orders. Nobody in.”
“I have to get my work,” Ellie replies, her tone calm but unwavering. “Or I’ll lose it completely.”
A guard shakes his head. “The boss already activated a manual purge of the servers. Even if you got in, you’d probably lose everything anyway.”
Ellie’s gaze hardens. “The compound is shutting down. You won’t survive if you stay here.”
They exchange a glance, almost indifferent. “We won’t survive anyway,” another mutters, shoulders tightening.
Then the compound reacts. Hissing and whirring fill the air as the fire suppression system kicks in, mist curling in thick clouds along the floor. Lights flicker violently. Panels spark. Portions of the facility go dark as power cuts ripple through the structure. The alarms scream—a mechanical roar that shakes the walls and echoes down the corridor.
Ellie tenses beside me, but I seize the moment. “Ellie, go. I’ll handle them.” My hand brushes hers briefly. She nods, understanding instantly.
The first guard lunges at me, baton swinging. I twist under his swing, using his momentum to hurl him into the wall. The clang reverberates across the corridor. Another guard rushes in, fists raised. I sidestep, sweep his legs, and he crashes hard, disoriented. Sparks fly from a nearby panel, smoke curling around us, thick and disorienting.
The remaining guards hesitate, uncertainty flashing in their eyes. I move with precision, blocking and striking, every motion calculated to keep them off balance while Ellie slips past.
She dashes toward the server room, muscles tense, eyes fixed on the console. Her fingers fly over the keyboard, overriding protocols even as the facility continues to crumble around us.
I face the remaining guards, fists clashing against batons, boots pounding the floor, a wall of sound and chaos. Mist curls around our legs, electrical sparks crackle overhead, and every second stretches impossibly long.
Through the haze, I catch sight of Ellie. She’s at the console, fingers flying, eyes locked on the progress bar inching upward. Every movement precise, deliberate, fearless. I’ve never met a woman with such courage. Such fire. My chest tightens, and a surge of pride hits me—I’m proud to call her mine.
I don’t know how far along she is. I don’t know if the corrupted systems will hold. But I see the focus etched across her face, the determination that refuses to waver, and I pray—prayer wrapped in desperation—that she’s getting exactly what she wants. That she’s winning this war from the inside.
I glance at the four guards still standing between us. Their faces are hard, weapons ready, but all I see is a challenge waiting to be met. Every strike I throw, every block I make, is for her. Every second I buy is another second for Ellie to reclaim what’s hers.
I charge at the first guard, swinging wide, my fist connecting with his jaw. He stumbles back, but the others close in instantly. Batons clash against my forearms. I groan with pain, but I don’t give in.
The second guard lunges from my left. I pivot, catching his wrist and twisting it until he grunts, staggering backward. I don’t pause. The third comes at me with a low swing, and I duck,rolling through the mist and kicking him square in the chest. He crashes into a console, sending a shower of sparks across the floor.
Over the chaos, I glimpse Ellie again. Her fingers move faster now, eyes flitting between code and cascading alerts. My pulse races with each fraction of a percentage, each tiny victory she snags from the system I know is rigged against her.
The fourth guard charges with a roar, swinging wildly. I catch his baton with my forearm, snapping it aside, and deliver a knee that sends him sprawling. The room shakes with our struggle, mist swirling, alarms screaming.
Just as I manage to knock the last guard out, I pivot to sprint toward Ellie—but the motion freezes me in place. From one of the narrow, shadowed corridors, Katerina emerges, gun leveled dead at Ellie’s chest.
My heart lurches, my stomach knots. Ellie freezes too, but her eyes don’t waver. They’re sharp, calculating, unafraid.
“Katerina!” I roar, voice cracking. “Put it down!”
She tilts her head, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her laugh echoes off the lab walls, cold and deliberate. “Oh, Mike…you really think I won’t do what needs to be done?”
Ellie turns her gaze to Katerina, unwavering. “You lost, Katerina,” she says, voice steady, almost serene. “Don’t be a sore loser.”
The gun doesn’t waver. Katerina chuckles again, shaking her head in mock disappointment. “I admit, I underestimated you, Ellie,” she says, voice silky but sharp. “Your refusal to be molded…impressive. Truly.”
Her eyes glint with a dangerous mix of admiration and malice. “It’s…such a pity I have to kill you,” she murmurs, almost regretfully. “I genuinely wanted to work with you. I could have made you brilliant beyond imagination…but you leave me no choice.”
I tighten my fists, rage and fear coiling like steel in my chest. Every instinct screams to fire, to dive, to end this before Katerina has a chance—but I have no weapon, and one misstep could cost Ellie her life.
“Katarina, please!” I yell. “I’ll do whatever you want! Put the gun down!”
She tilts her head, a cruel smile dancing across her lips. “It’s a little too late,” she says, voice sharp as ice. “I’m already—”
A thunderous blast tears through the lab, shaking the floor beneath us. Sparks fly from exposed conduits, and smoke thickens the air, choking. Instinct takes over. I dive, crashing over Ellie, shielding her body with my own as rounds ricochet and glass shatters around us.
The shots cease, leaving a ringing silence. My ears pound. I can’t tell if Katerina is lying in wait somewhere in the shadows—or if she’s retreated. There’s no time to find out.
