She looked up at him, jaw tight, a fierce, defiant spark still burning in her eyes despite the shock. “It’s not that bad, just… get Kessler. He’s the key.”
“Fuck the key.”
Dalton and Bodie wrangled Kessler as Nick darted around the room, gathering supplies before racing back over. He ripped her vest apart, lifting her shirt, her skin already drenched with blood. “Jesus, the blade caught you right outside the damn edge.”
She snorted, eyes rolling back as he poured on clotting powder, then packed the wound, wrapping it all beneath an insanely tight pressure dressing.
He lingered for a moment, his fingers brushing her skin, all that blood mocking him. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Her chin quivered, her skin a deathly white, as she smiled at him. “You’re not the only one who’s got something to lose… Someone worth dying for.”
“Dying’s not an option, sweetheart.”
She nodded, the small movement draining more color from her face before she levered up, rose onto shaky legs.
He snaked his arm around her, a thousand different scenarios all flashing through his head at once — none of them ending well. “Are you nuts, just… stay down. We’ll work…”
A blast of static drowned him out, all the monitors in the wing crackling before the Reaper’s face filled the screen, those same piercing eyes staring through Nick.
The man grinned, tipping his head to the side as if admiring his work. “I see you reached your prize. But the mission’s not over until you get him out.”
The image cut off, replaced by a familiar click as a timer appeared on the screen, the numbers counting down.
Dalton looked around, mouth pinched tight. “What the hell did he do?”
Nick gathered Sloane in his arms, bracing her weight. “I have no idea, but I don’t think we want to be inside when that clock reaches zero.”
Sloane hissed, shoved off his arm. “I need my tablet.”
Bodie grabbed it off the floor. “It’s chipped.”
She wiped off the surface, booted it. “As long as it works…” She tapped through a few folders, expanding a diagram before she cursed. “Damn it.”
Nick moved in close, ignoring the way she tried to own her space. “Might as well spell it out.”
“The Reaper’s hacked into the doomsday protocols.”
“Doomsday?”
“It’s just a code word for any kind of catastrophic hazardous event. He’s tricked the system into thinking there’s a level one containment breech involving a deadly pathogen. The entire building’s going to vent oxygen, release gases, and likely initiate explosions in an effort to prevent it from breaking containment.”
Nick arched a brow. “So, this place is going to keep trying to kill us?”
“Only on a much broader and deadlier scale. Nick’s right. We don’t want to be inside when that timer hits zero.”
“Then, we move.” Nick shouldered most of Sloane’s weight, carrying her back through the broken window and down the corridor. He didn’t know if the damn ward was still on lockdown, but one way or another, he’d get her clear.
His comms buzzed a moment later, Avery’s voice crackling over the line. “Nick? We’ve got a problem. The monitors in here just turned on. I’m staring at a second squad of men dressed to kill infiltrating the lobby. We’ve either got a legit, federal security force coming for us, or it’s Hill’s cleanup crew. Either way, they just went live.”
Nick hit his mic. “I swear we can’t catch a break. Not that it matters. We’ve got bigger issues.” He paused, shuffled sideways to get them through a narrow door. “We’re on our way back. We’ve got Kessler, but Sloane’s hit. Bad. Radio Rowan and Foster. She’s gonna need a shit ton of blood, and tell Foster we’ll need a roof pickup. Preferably in less than twelve minutes.”
He stopped at the first set of suppression doors, stared at the gauntlet run they’d already faced once. “And Avery? Tell Buck to get those charges ready. We don’t have much time.”
