He braced his good hand on the rail, took a step, when a concussive charge rocked the lower level, smoke quickly funneling up the stairwell. Shouts echoed through the air, multiple footsteps pounding up the steps.
Some of that pain returned, blood warm and sticky against his skin. “Shit. They blew the blast door.”
Sloane huffed, grabbed his arm, angling him back toward the roof. “Not a chance in hell we’re going head-to-head against an army. There’s a window washing rig on the north side. Now that the sniper’s down…”
“You said I only caught him in the shoulder. That’s not down.”
“I doubt he’s as stubborn as you, because a lesser man would still be on his ass at the top of the stairs.”
Nick tripped along beside her, doing his best to carry most of his weight. “If there’re more…”
“Then, I’ll deal with them. But we can’t afford a direct confrontation, and you know it.”
They hit the doorway, Sloane still shouldering half his weight, her carbine sweeping the area as she helped him across to the far side, glanced over the edge.
“It’s a floor down. We’ll have to drop onto it.” She waved Kessler over. “You first.”
He shook his head, tried to back away, but she simply grabbed his arm, manhandled him to the edge. He whined about missing the rig, dying, as Sloane eased him down, holding his weight before letting him fall. The unit rocked, ropes creaking from the sudden strain, but it held, swinging in the breeze as Kessler cowered near the end.
Sloane motioned to Nick. “You’re next, sunshine.”
He shook his head. “You go. In case I need you to stop me from continuing down.”
She eyed him, cursed. “I knew you were hurt worse than you were letting on. Fine, just, don’t screw me over by staying on the roof.”
“Do you seriously think I’d leave you alone to face this?”
“No. But you’d definitely stay up here if you thought it was the only way to keep everyone else alive.”
He waved her on, watching as she dropped gracefully to the narrow ledge, barely making the rig shake. He waited until she’d shifted to the right, then climbed over the edge, holding on with his good arm before letting go — crashing onto the surface below.
He hit hard, breath wheezing out, everything burning bright as the scenery swam, the distant lights blurring into a yellow smear.
Sloane didn’t waste any time coddling him, just grabbed the line, got the whole rig screaming down. Shouts rose above them, the wind swinging the scaffolding sideways as they hit the halfway point, kept going.
Nick stared at the roofline, rifle at the ready, stomach roiling from the motion. Kessler squatted beside him, fingers white knuckled around the metal rails, chanting something under his breath.
The ropes creaked as the rig shuddered to a halt, one side slightly lower. Sloane crouched beside him, gaze scanning the area before centering on him.
She sighed. “This is as far as the rig goes. We’ll have to rope down the last two flights.”
Nick chuckled. “Of course, we do… shit, get down.”
He rolled to get a clear sightline as heads popped out along the roofline, their silhouettes black against the indigo sky. He didn’t wait, just ran through a full magazine as he sprayed the ledge, kept the men back while Sloane readied a line.
Nick stumbled to his feet, changed the magazine, then unleashed a few more trigger pulls before leaning in close to Sloane. “You both go together. I’ll be right behind you.”
Sloane scoffed. “How the hell are you gonna rope down with only one good arm?”
“I’ll be fine, but we can’t leave Kessler alone, and as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t hold him and the rope.”
She huffed, fired off a few rounds when more heads appeared above them before grunting. “I swear to god, Nick, if you get yourself killed, I’ll climb back up and kill you all over again.”
He smiled. “Deal.”
Sloane grumbled under her breath, readied the rope, then swung over the rail, Kessler holding onto her with a death grip. She coughed, repositioned one arm, then started down, slipping the last several feet. She shifted over, covered the roofline while Nick retrieved the rope, wrapped one arm around it.
Easing off the edge without crashing all the way to the alleyway damn near killed him, until his strength waned and he hit the cobblestone with a resounding thud. Pain flared through his chest, more blood washing down his back.
