Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Rowan’s world narrowed into the blinding white spotlight sweeping toward Dalton as he tried to twist his leg free, the beam seconds away from pinning him in the center of the light. Ruining any chance of finding her father before they’d even accessed the building.
She didn’t think, just took off, dove back through the fence and over to Dalton. Tierney appeared a heartbeat later, helped her heave the man up, half-dragging him to the fence line as the light panned through the spot, continued moving for a few feet, then stopped.
Rowan held her breath, chest plastered to a pole, every muscle tensed as the circular beam backtracked — paused over the hole in the ground.
They held still, Bodie and the others fanned out on the other side, weapons aimed at the voices slowly getting closer, looking ready to take on all of Holt Graves’ forces if necessary. No doubts. No hesitations. Just their unwavering courage. Unyielding loyalty.
Time ticked in the background, the men moments away from rounding the tower’s base, catching them all stuck against the fence, when the spotlight moved off, quietly resuming its pattern.
Tierney tugged on Dalton’s arm, helped him limp through the fence — race for deeper shadows — when the guards appeared on their right, flashlight beams brightening the rain and the mist. Rowan and her team hit the ground, prayed they looked like dark lumps amidst the shadows.
The guards ambled over, guns still slung over their shoulders, the lights bouncing haphazardly along the ground when the sensors ticked over, that annoying hum rumbling back to life. The men stopped, muttered something about the damn power, then turned and headed back.
Rowan popped up, hoofed it with the others to the side of the building, Dalton shaking off the limp by the time they reached the facility, made their way down a slight rise to a service tunnel.
They plunged into the dim, dank maintenance corridor, breath clouding around their faces, the cold air thick with the scent of old concrete and ozone.
Dull utility bulbs brightened the shadows every fifteen feet, the glow just enough to outline the tunnel’s boundaries.
They quickstepped along the corridor, listening for more guards, heads on a swivel.
A lone, insulated metal door appeared at the end, the words “Sub-Level Engineering” stamped on a plate.
Avery pulled on the handle. “Locked. Deadbolt and an electronic pad. I can try and pry off the faceplate, bypass the power.”
Buck stepped forward, a small container in his hand. “No time. I’ll take care of it.”
Rowan winced. For Buck, taking care of a situation usually involved explosives. She wasn’t disappointed when he shoved a bit of C4 between the locks and the frame, motioned everyone to move back.
A short countdown, then the putty flashed, a dull whoosh filling the tunnel. The door yawned open, tendrils of smoke curling off the surface.
Bodie clapped Buck on the shoulder. “Nice work. Let’s just hope no one inside heard.”
Bodie eased the door open, and they slipped into a brightly lit, sterile hallway. Stainless steel fixtures gleamed in the harsh light, bleach and something vaguely metallic saturating the air. Polished concrete floors stretched out in front of them, disappearing around a far bend.
Buck took point, Tierney, Nick, and Avery falling in behind him as Rowan shadowed Bodie, Dalton still guarding their six.
The hallway snaked through the facility, continued through a set of automatic doors, then into an adjoining wing.
The air seemed colder, with hints of bleach and lemon-scented cleaner.
Tierney grabbed Buck’s arm when footsteps echoed in front of them, corralling them all into a dark alcove behind a couple rolling carts.
Dalton stood at the ready, weapon trained on the hallway when voices cut through the stillness, the mumbled syllables gradually becoming clearer until the speakers on the wall crackled.
Code Black, Ward-C.
The footsteps stopped for a moment, the announcement still hanging in the air before they started up again. Faster. Heavier.
“What the hell’s going on in Ward-C?” Male, deep, with a slight southern drawl. “That’s the third code today?”
“It’s Graves. That guy’s unhinged. Calls for a black code if any of the subjects so much as twitch.
” His partner huffed as the two men came into view, dressed in blue scrubs and sneakers.
“He’s been an ass for the past few days.
” The orderly hooked his colleague’s elbow, stopped him right in front of the alcove.
“I heard they’re cleaning house. Something about a security problem.
An issue they had with their supply depot.
And I heard Walsh might be coming here, tonight. ”
The other guy snorted. “Great, a new batch we’ll have to babysit.” He started walking again. “I need a drink…”
Their voices faded, the soft treads from their shoes finally cutting off when they walked through another set of doors.
Rowan darted out, heart pounding, blood like ice. “We need to get to Ward-C. Now.”
Nick pointed to her, Bodie, Tierney, and Dalton.
“You four head for the stairwell. There should be one along this corridor. Those lit windows were three stories up and off to our right. The rest of us will find the security nexus. In a lot of these old, cold-war facilities, the nerve center was a separate bunker. Probably around back. We’ll gain access, see if we can bypass any locks.
Secure an exfil route. Go dark on comms until I call. And if things go sideways, run.”
Bodie snorted. “Fat fucking chance on that, so don’t make us come looking for you.”
Nick smiled, took off back the way they’d come. Rowan’s stomach sank. Something about the way they disappeared through that set of doors ate at her gut. The same feeling she’d gotten when she’d stood on the cliff where her father had apparently fallen and stared into the abyss.
Bodie squeezed her shoulder, the warmth from his touch grounding her as he nudged her ahead.
She gave herself one selfish moment to savor the weight of his hand — how it calmed the jumpy feeling in her gut — then took off, not quite running but not walking, either.
More like a slow jog, her weight on her toes, ready to react to a dynamic situation.
They found a stairwell two sections over, the heavy metal door creaking open.
Dull lighting illuminated the concrete steps, as if the power had been cut in half.
She took point, kept her body close to the wall, as she started up, planting each foot as quietly as possible.
Bodie and Dalton were silent. As if they weren’t even putting their boots on the stairs.
Not that she or Tierney were loud, but there was a soft footfall every time one of them placed a foot — a telltale press.
It hit her, then. How lucky she was having Bodie as a partner. That he’d jumped in without thinking.
She still wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve his loyalty, what was looking a lot like love. Sure, he’d vowed to bring down the men responsible for Evan’s death, but she knew he was there for her. To save her father — put her world back together. If anything happened to him or his teammates…
She’d never be whole.
Rowan shoved aside thoughts as they bypassed the second floor and continued to the third, the light above the exit flickering, giving the landing a strobe effect.
Dalton tried the door, shook his head. “Magnetic.”
Bodie tapped his comm unit. “Nick? We could use a hand, brother. Third floor stairwell, two sections over. Magnetic seal.”
Silent stretched across the airwaves, the unanswered call jacking up the tension. Bodie shifted on his feet, flashed Dalton a hand signal, when the comms crackled.
Nick breathed across the line, a dull thud echoing through. “Not sure what part of stay dark was confusing, but… give me a second. Avery’s trying to override all the doors in all the stairwells.”
Bodie rolled his eyes, Dalton and Tierney each taking point — watching the upper and lower floors for any hint of movement.
The silence dragged on, nothing but their combined breathing echoed around them until a whoosh sounded above them, two sets of footsteps heading their way.
Dalton held up two fingers as he moved into position, rifle at his shoulder. Muffled voices carried down the stairs, the words all melding into one.
The lock clicked, but the door didn’t budge when Bodie tried it again.
Nick’s voice rasped in their ears. “Well?”
“Still locked, and we’ve got company a couple flights up…” Bodie cursed when another door opened below them, quick taps moving toward them. “Make that above and below.”
Nick cursed. “On it.”
Tierney raised her weapon, hands shaking slightly before she settled, looking as battle hardened as Dalton was. Bodie tapped Rowan’s arm, motioned to the door, then joined Dalton and Tierney, rifle notched, ready to make the tough decisions if Nick couldn’t open the door in time.
The seconds drew on, those footsteps getting closer, voices louder. Rowan readied her stance, mentally noting to shoot high in the shoulder, outside any possible body armor, when the seal around the door popped, cracking it open an inch.
She palmed the handle, waved everyone through as a hand appeared on the railing above them, a shadow bouncing off the wall below.
Bodie and Dalton rushed through, Tierney close behind.
Rowan didn’t know if the corridor was clear or if she’d just sent them headlong into another ambush.
Didn’t care when the only other option was opening fire — alerting Graves’ forces they’d been compromised.
She darted in behind Bodie, swept the left side. Strip lights glowed along the floor, stall numbers on cards at eye level. A row of beds lined the far wall, an eerie sense of Déjà Vu washing over her.