Chapter 89 Raine
Raine
The glass door gave under Blade’s tool with a soft click, the sound barely louder than a breath. He slipped inside first, his knife glinting once before he melted into the dark. Hawk followed, rifle raised, then Adam pushed me through with one hand firm at my back.
The air inside was colder than outside, too cold for an empty building. It smelled of bleach and metal, sharp and sterile, the kind of smell that clung to your skin no matter how many showers you took.
My boots made no sound on the polished floor, but every step echoed in my head.
The lobby was immaculate. White counters. A row of chairs lined neatly against the wall. A fake plant in the corner. It could have been any office in any city. But under the fluorescent lights, it felt wrong. Too clean. Too staged.
We moved in silence, Russ whispering directions in our ears as he tracked the feeds. “Two heat signatures. West corridor. Stationary. Could be staff. No movement east side. Lab doors locked.”
“Copy,” Adam said, his voice low steel.
I kept close to him, the pistol steady in my grip even though my palms were slick. The memory of the truck pressed against me—those children strapped down, their lips whispering for help—and bile rose sharp in my throat.
This place could hold more.
We passed a wall of framed certificates, glossy and proud, stamped with seals from universities and government agencies. I slowed, scanning the names. Research grants. Clinical trials. Even the Department of Defense.
It wasn’t hiding in shadows. It was wearing a badge of legitimacy.
Adam caught me staring and touched my elbow, pulling me forward. His eyes said what I already knew: don’t get distracted. Focus.
I nodded, forcing my legs to move.
Blade signaled from the far corner, his hand slicing across the air. Door ahead. Restricted access.
We gathered at the lock, Adam’s shoulder brushing mine as he leaned in. His voice was barely a breath. “Ready?”
I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on the pistol.
“Always,” I whispered.
Blade’s tool sparked once, then clicked. The lock gave.
The door swung open with a soft hiss of released air.
Cold. Sterile. Silent.
And waiting in the shadows beyond—rows of stainless steel tables. Machines humming low. The faint, steady beeping of monitors.
I stepped in, my heart pounding, and knew instantly—
We’d just opened another layer of hell.