Chapter 12 Lantern Protocol, No Safe Exit #2
Ava followed, but her movements weren’t fully under her control. Her hand kept tugging at the tablet case, as if she could reach into it and pull out an answer. Roman caught it - caught the way her fingers hesitated at the edge of the evidence.
He wanted to rip the folder away from her and lock it in his own body. He didn’t. He couldn’t. Ava wasn’t a possession. She was a weapon and a mind and a heartbeat all wrapped into one stubborn woman who’d spent her life proving the law could be used like a hammer.
But right now the facility didn’t care about law.
It cared about sequences.
They reached another intersection. This one had no opening doors, only a central corridor that led to a blank wall with a single access panel and a slot identical to the one holding the ledger.
Roman tightened his grip on the wrapped polymer, feeling the weight of it - real paper somewhere inside, real names, real payments, real proof that the syndicate had been paying people for years.
At the far end of the central corridor, a panel slid open just enough to reveal a cart. The cart held two items: restraints - clean, padded straps - and a canister with a warning label too small to read from here.
Ava’s gaze fixed on the canister. “Gas.”
Roman’s spine went rigid. “Don’t breathe deep.”
Ava’s laugh was sharp and humorless. “You think I don’t know how gas works?”
Roman didn’t answer with words. He moved, stepping between her and the cart, using his body like a shield the facility couldn’t account for. His gun tracked the canister. His free hand reached for the ledger again, not to open it - just to keep it from being the only prize the building had planned.
Ava’s voice turned softer, dangerous in its honesty. “You’re scared.”
Roman stared at the canister. “I’m not.”
“You are.” She sounded angry that he’d been caught, not angry that she’d noticed. “You’re afraid they’ll get me away from you. Afraid you’ll fail.”
Roman’s throat tightened. He hated that she could see him. He hated that she was right. “I’m afraid you’ll do something reckless to keep control of the evidence.”
Ava’s eyes flashed. “And you think you can stop me.”
Roman leaned closer, enough that her breath warmed his jaw. “I think you’ll listen to me when it matters.”
Ava’s mouth parted as if she wanted to argue again - until the facility released the gas.
It didn’t hiss. It didn’t roar. It simply exhaled, a measured release from the canister into the air like a promise. The smell hit Roman first - sweet and medicinal, the kind designed to slip past instinct.
Ava’s eyes widened. She took one sharp inhale anyway, as if her body refused to believe a threat could be real until it was too late.
Roman lunged. He caught her by the waist, gun pressed against his own thigh, ledger still clenched in his fist. “Ava - stay with me.”
She blinked hard, pupils tightening, then turning sluggish. Her voice came out strained, like her tongue was fighting her. “Don’t - ” She swallowed, and the movement looked wrong. “The ledger.”
Roman adjusted his hold, trying to reposition her without letting her stumble. “I have it.”
Her head tilted, slow. “Then… they can’t - ”
The facility’s automated lockdown clicked into full effect. The corridor doors sealed behind them with synchronized finality. The grid lights shifted from blue to a dim red that made everything look like it was already bleeding.
Ava tried to step forward, then her knees buckled. Roman steadied her, feeling her weight suddenly too heavy, her muscles turning slack in a way that made his blood go colder than the air.
“Stay awake,” he ordered, voice rough. “Look at me.”
Ava’s gaze slid over his face, caught on his mouth like it was searching for something it couldn’t find. “Roman…” Her breath hitched, then slowed. “You’re not supposed to have to carry me.”
He wanted to tell her he didn’t mind. Wanted to tell her he’d carry the weight of the world if it kept her alive. But the sedative stole words from her mouth before he could offer them.
The cart at the far end rolled forward on silent wheels, stopping with a soft mechanical stop. Restraints unfolded like obedient restraints awaiting a command.
Roman’s grip tightened around her, instinct screaming that if he let go for even a second, they’d take her.
He backed toward the central wall, scanning for some hidden override. The access panel beside the blank wall blinked once, then displayed a new prompt - no safe exit, no override, only a single route forward that led deeper into the grid.
Roman’s fingers dug into Ava’s jacket. He could feel her pulse slowing under his palm.
“No,” he said, and the word wasn’t directed at the facility. It was directed at the part of himself that had believed he could keep her whole.
Ava’s eyelids fluttered. Her hand lifted weakly, searching for his wrist, not the ledger, not her own evidence - Roman. “Don’t… let them - ”
A sharp tone cut through the corridor, a system acknowledging compliance. The restraints on the cart snapped into place, extending toward Ava with mechanical certainty.
Roman moved in time to shove the cart back with his shoulder, but the restraints didn’t stop. They pivoted, reaching around his body like the facility had accounted for him.
Ava’s head lolled against his chest. Her lips parted on a breath that didn’t fully arrive.
Roman forced himself to breathe anyway, forced his mind to stay sharp as the sedative thickened around them.
He looked down at the wrapped ledger in his fist, at the stamp that promised names were inside - proof that could save her life later, if later still existed.
Then the restraints tightened around Ava’s arms, and her eyes rolled back just enough to show him she was slipping away.
Roman’s gun rose.
He didn’t shoot the restraints. Not yet.
He slammed his fist into the access panel beside the wall, searching for any physical override the corridor hadn’t anticipated - anything that would keep her from being strapped down and carried deeper.
The panel didn’t respond.
Instead, the wall slid open to reveal a narrow medical bay beyond - sterile white, too bright, too clean. A gurney waited in the center, already aligned, already waiting for her.
Roman heard Ava make a sound that wasn’t a word.
And then the facility’s voice, calm as a judge, declared: Lantern Protocol activation - medical transfer confirmed.
Roman stood over Ava with the ledger in his grasp and watched the doors seal behind her as if closing around a body that wasn’t his to protect anymore.