45. Forty-Five
We’re moving within seconds of the hatch closing, stalking after whoever the hell found us. Whoever the hell has not only made it past the cameras without tripping any alarm, but also found and entered the most secure place we have.
It’s one of Giordano’s guys, or a team of them. They’ve been sent to hunt us down and retrieve the hard drive we’ve stolen before we can decrypt any of the information locked away inside of it.
Fucking Dane.
Tucker almost died, and now we’re going to have to take down more of these assholes on our own turf.
They were likely sent with a no questions asked kill order. It’s what I would do.
They won’t leave this place alive.
I was so fucking careful. So cautious while driving us back. I may have been distracted, but I know there was no one on our tail.
So how the hell did they find us?
I can still hear Madeline and Tucker stumbling through the halls desperate to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to keep themselves away from the fuckers that followed us back.
They need to move more quietly.
I’m glad Tucker is moving at all at this point. I was half expecting him to be unconscious by now, so movement is good, even if it’s far too loud for my liking.
Ray signals he hears movement coming from the West side of the bunker. We tighten our formation and stalk after them, falling into a rhythm that feels almost second nature by now.
Our steps aren’t silent, but they don’t need to be.
We aren’t hiding. We’re taking this head on. After today, and with all the swirling, roiling rage building in my chest, I’m ready for another fight.
Finally, I can hear them too. At least three hunting. Looking for us. Looking for the drive.
“Keep one,” Dane orders, his voice just loud enough for us to hear over the silent hum building in the air, the frenetic energy surrounding us whenever things are about to get a little dicey.
Ray nods once, and I click the safety on my gun, confirming my understanding from behind Dane.
Keep one? Fine, I can do that. Leaves at least two to kill.
Speech floats down the halls, too far and too distorted to be understood, but I launch myself towards it, abandoning our formation and passing them both.
I’ve been ready since Ray directed us towards the West end, and now I’m itching to pull the trigger.
A sliver of a bulletproof vest is visible when we turn a corner. It’s enough to narrow down on a target and charge after it. He isn’t getting anywhere near that drive.
My gun is raised when I turn the corner, but they’re so blatantly unaware of their surroundings that none of the three men so much as tense by the time I’m on top of them.
The first one goes down easily, a single shot to the back of his neck, left vulnerable by the gaps in his ill-fitting tactical gear.
One alive. Keep one alive.
I don’t have the presence of mind to question their clothing, their gear, or their lack of preparedness by the time Dane and Ray fall in next to me. They both took the time to properly scope out our surroundings before charging into what very well could have been a trap if this team were better prepared.
The other two seem to be at least conscious on their feet. They turn to find the three of us standing, and their comrade falling to the floor in a lifeless heap.
Ray is quick, his movements far outmatching the speed of the shorter man. His gun is barely raised by the time Ray knocks him to the ground with the butt of his gun. A pained shriek cuts through the air as the man writhes and whines about his nose being broken.
Some fucking tactical team.
“How many more?” Dane growls, his voice pulling me back into the moment, away from the churning current of rage and violence.
Dane shoves the last man against the wall. His hands are up, but they’re steady. He’s not as afraid as he should be. His face twists in disgust while he stares Dane down, matching his intensity and refusing to give him anything.
Dane takes his eyes off him, only to look from me to the man still groaning on the floor. An unspoken command, and one I’m more than willing to comply with.
Ray won’t do it. He won’t shoot the man who’s down and unlikely to overpower any one of us. Maybe that’s a good thing. His morality, his mercy, are still intact for Madeline. But it needs to be done, we can’t let people survive when it’s clear they mean to do us harm.
A single shot is all it takes to render him completely and utterly empty of all life. His head is no longer a neat and self-contained little machine, now an open crater. Everything that made him who he was is leaking onto the concrete below him.
That seems to finally kick our lone survivor into gear, the tremble I was missing now starting to show.
Dane sees it too, the right side of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “Are you going to make me ask again?”
This man, this insane man, who’s entirely at our mercy, pulls his lips back into a sneer. “All this for her?”
There’s a brief moment of confusion before everything comes crashing down around me. Everything is hot. Too hot. The roaring in my ears is nearly unbearable. I don’t wait to hear the response. My body moves long before I have the thought to direct it.
She’s hiding somewhere in here, protecting one of us who can’t protect himself, and who knows how many people are in these godforsaken halls trying to find her.
There’s commotion behind me, just barely audible over my own torrent of thoughts, before another shot rings out, and two sets of boots run after me.