Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The green glow from Sloane’s tablet cut through the night as Nick stared at the feed playing across the screen. She hadn’t been exaggerating.
No staff.
No movement.
Just that bloody handprint glaring up at them.
Sloane flipped through more screens, accessing something that looked administrative. “Shit.”
Nick groaned. “Didn’t we just go through this? And I assume more bad news.”
“It’s mixed. First, we don’t have to worry about additional civilian causalities.
The site was temporarily shut down six hours ago due to a possible gas leak.
Everyone except Kessler was moved into the main hospital until they cleared the building.
The whole place is running on a skeleton crew, which, judging by the live stream, the Reaper’s already dispatched. ”
“So, what else?”
“It’s all a ruse. This isn’t just a medical facility. It doubles as a damn CIA black site, and Hill just manufactured his own deniable failsafe.”
Bodie huffed. “Which means, this isn’t a stealth mission, anymore. It’s a damn gauntlet run to reach Kessler before the Reaper kills him.”
Nick nodded, patting down his vest one last time — mags, frags, night vision, blades, comms — before he pointed to the tablet. “Sloane, we need the fastest route to Kessler’s wing.”
Her fingers flew over the screen. “Already checking… Got it. West service corridor to the loading bay.”
“Let’s go.”
They fanned out, moving in sync to the rear fence line.
Dalton and Bodie took a knee, carbines tracing the open field and walkways as Buck darted forward, bolt cutters working through the chain link.
The sides curled outward as Buck sliced a line large enough for them to wedge through before he grabbed the edges, held them apart.
Nick darted ahead first, taking up point as the rest of the crew slipped through.
Dalton tapped Nick on the shoulder as he moved past, Bodie falling in sync on the other side, Sloane and Avery hot on Bodie’s heels.
They stayed in a distorted diamond formation, boots skimming across the wet grass, Buck and Tierney bringing up the rear.
They hit the first walkway moving fast, silent, when footsteps tapped the pavement off to their right.
They spread out, melting into the shadows lining the paved sidewalk surrounding the building as that lone guard ambled out from behind the corner, flashlight bouncing lazily across the landscape.
He swept the far fence they’d just breeched, pausing for a moment, head bent forward as if the added inch would help him see through the fog and the darkness before he shrugged, continued on, whistling softly to himself.
Nick waited until the guy rounded the far bend before signaling his teammates ahead.
They ghosted out of the night, following the paving stones down the side, around the back, then over to the west service corridor.
A bank of rolling doors covered part of the wall, a lone entrance pushed into the stonework.
Buck edged ahead, shouldering the door before planting a small charge over the lock. He twirled his finger, took cover behind the corner as the explosive popped, nothing more than a hushed whoosh sounding from the doorway.
Nick clapped the man on the back, then darted forward, showing the countdown on one hand before yanking the door wide, waving his buddies through. Dalton and Bodie went in first, each sweeping a different direction before the others followed, the door hanging slightly ajar behind them.
A sharp, medicinal odor permeated the air, notes of copper and ozone layered underneath. Emergency lighting clawed at the darkness, the dull glow barely touching the deep shadows laced along the corridor. A rolling linen cart teetered against an overturned chair, one wheel still slowly spinning.
They hit the first opening moving in pairs, Bodie and Dalton branching off to opposite sides as Avery and Sloane headed for the security desk positioned on the far wall. A dark silhouette slumped behind the counter, blood dripping onto the linoleum.
Sloane placed her fingers on the guard’s neck, waited, then shook her head. “Feels like someone crushed his trachea.”
Nick gestured at the uncluttered space. “No casings, no mess. They’re keeping it clean and quiet.” He pointed at the guard’s chest. “Grab his access card, just in case.”
She yanked it free, then continued down the adjoining hallway, rifle at the ready, all their heads on a swivel. They reached a locked access door, the keypad on the right glowing a steady red.
She ran the strip down the slot, frowned when it beeped, that crimson light still glaring up at them.
She wiped the badge off on her sweater, tried again.
The unit whirled, a few of the keys lighting up before the light blinked green.
The lock disengaged with an audible click, the glass doors sliding open on a breath of air.
She glanced back at him, her furrowed brow confirming his thoughts. That someone was playing with them, manipulating the systems, and that it likely wouldn’t go their way in the end.
Bodie went first, checking each door when sets of doors farther up opened, then closed. A soft thunk registered down another corridor, a resulting breeze swirling past their legs. “Is it just me, or does it feel like this bastard’s herding us?”
Dalton grunted. “It’s not just you, brother.”
An alarm sounded in the distance, squawking a few times before cutting off, the low tone echoing off the walls. The overhead sprinklers hissed, several drops splattering on the floor, then nothing.
The group fanned out, taking turns clearing any adjoining hallways as they moved toward the north wing. They passed through another set of locking doors, when the emergency lights winked out, nothing but the faint glow from an exit sign at the end of the hallway casting any light.
Footsteps.
Pounding the floor a moment before two men charged out of a branching passage, rifles notched, muzzles flashing as they lit up the corridor.
Nick returned fire, catching a round in his vest as he lunged in front of Sloane, kept her tucked in behind him.
Pain flared through his ribs, stealing his next breath as they folded into doorways, endless casings clicking off the polished floor.
Dalton picked off one asshole, punching more brass through the walls, before waving them all back.
They retreated toward the last junction when the remaining connecting doors slammed shut, a resounding click sounding in the lull between rounds. More mercenaries closed in along the main corridor, the relentless suppressed fire limiting their options.
Buck popped out, emptied a full mag across the hall, then planted a charge.
No hiding this time, just a quick mag change followed by more rounds until the charge blew, punched a hole through the wall in a spray of drywall and dust. Tierney dove through, the rest following as Buck held the line, looking like a man with little to lose.
He motioned for Nick to move as he grabbed a flash bang, skipped it down the hall.
Nick darted through the jagged opening, Buck rolling in behind him a second before the grenade erupted, reduced the surroundings into a wash of white light.
A shrill screech dropped them to their knees, the lingering whine ringing in his ears.
Nick stumbled to his feet, relying on muscle memory and years of dynamic entries while with Delta to get him moving.
He grabbed Sloane around the waist, hiked her up as Dalton lifted Avery.
Tierney managed to stagger to her feet, Buck shielding her stuttered movements as Bodie swept behind them.
They emerged from the room, stumbled into another hallway, a cloud of dust and debris coughing out with them.
Bodie barred the door, then took point, shepherding them parallel to their previous track.
It took a few minutes to weave back over, but they finally arrived at the deserted nurse’s station, the scene looking just as eerie in person as it had on the screen — the mug, the bloody chart, along with a single latex glove lying on the floor, as if it had been torn off mid-struggle.
Sloane angled over to the station, hovered her hand over the coffee. “It’s had time to cool.”
Nick waved them on. “Which means, we’re already out of time. Which way?”
Sloane checked her tablet, pointed to the hallway on their left. “Down there, then right at the next junction. It’s a straight shot to the north wing from there.”
Bodie headed out, still sweeping every crevice as Dalton moved in behind them. They quickstepped to the next corridor, started picking up speed when the overhead speaker buzzed. Bodie froze, fist raised, head tilted when a single click sounded over the intercom.
All the connecting doors in the hallway whooshed open, the farthest one closing with a resounding clang as the next set shuddered, started sliding together.
Bodie cursed. “He’s closing them in sequence.”
He took off, booking it down the hallway as the lights above the doors flashed green, yellow, then red. They scooted through, the timing between each section narrowing, the last set already closing before they’d cleared the junction.
Dalton raced ahead, arms pumping, his relentless training over the past year paying off.
He slid between the closing doors, wedged his rifle against the metal edges, holding the sides apart with brute strength.
He grunted, waiting until they’d darted through before twisting and slipping free as the glass slammed together, tearing a strip off one sleeve when the fabric caught in the middle.
He fell back on his ass, chest heaving, eyes wild.
Like a man who’d seen a reflection of his shattered past and just now realized he hadn’t silenced it.
Nick offered Dalton his hand, grabbing his wrist after he scrambled to his feet. “Thanks, brother. Who knew a guy your size could run so fast.”