48. Evie
EVIE
Every shot behind us pulls at Rook.
I see it in the way his shoulders tighten.
He keeps climbing.
That may be the hardest order he’s ever given himself.
The construction shaft grows steeper. I use both hands to pull myself over exposed stone while the Chairman’s journal presses against my ribs beneath my jacket.
Caleb stays directly below me.
“If I fall, I’ll crush you.”
“You won’t fall.”
“You can’t know that.”
“No.”
I look down.
Dust streaks his face. Blood darkens his clothes, and the bullet that struck his armor has left him moving carefully.
Still, his eyes remain on me.
“But I’ll catch you if you do.”
My chest tightens.
“After this, you’re going to sleep for a week.”
“I don’t sleep much.”
“You do now.”
A faint smile appears.
“Bossy.”
“I warned you.”
Fresh air moves through the shaft.
Pine.
Rain.
Freedom.
“We’re close,” Reef calls.
Hope changes everyone’s pace.
The passage curves upward.
A thin line of daylight appears.
Then the mountain shakes again.
Rocks fall across the exit.
Maverick and Reef push against the largest one.
It doesn’t move.
Cobra squeezes forward.
“My turn.”
Falcon leans against the wall, pale beneath the dust.
“Try not to lift the whole mountain.”
Cobra looks offended.
“I only need the boulder.”
Even Rook laughs once.
Cobra braces both boots and pushes.
The rock shifts.
Rogue joins him.
Then Maverick.
Together, they roll it free.
Daylight pours into the shaft.
Not one man lifting a mountain.
Three very determined men moving one loose boulder.
Cold air washes over my face.
Reef climbs out and sweeps the hillside.
“Clear.”
One by one, we emerge.
The mountainside is breaking apart below us. Trees lean at impossible angles. Cracks split the ground, and dust pours from openings that weren’t there minutes ago.
Maverick removes a signal device from his pack.
“Extraction birds are twelve minutes away.”
“Whose aircraft?” Rook asks.
“Private rescue helicopters. Pilots owed Cutter a favor and didn’t ask questions.”
Twelve minutes feels like a lifetime.
Rogue and Reef establish a perimeter.
Cobra sets down the evidence case while Fathom checks its seals.
Everything we brought from the bunker remains intact.
Except Mac.
Rook keys his radio.
“Mac.”
Static answers.
“Mac, report.”
A burst of gunfire comes from inside the mountain.
Then silence.
Rook tries again.
“Mac.”
His voice returns.
Weak.
Broken by static.
“…found…”
“What?” Rook demands.
“…Whitmore’s final…”
The transmission disappears.
“What did you find?”
Only static.
Then:
“…not finished…”
The mountain explodes beneath us.
The ground throws me to my knees.
Caleb covers me as part of the slope collapses into the valley.
Dust rolls over the trees.
Everyone stares at the second emergency opening a hundred yards away.
A figure emerges.
He stumbles into the daylight and falls to one knee.
Mac.
Relief rushes through me.
Then Victor steps out behind him.
His armor is torn. Blood covers one side of his body.
But his pistol is raised.
Pointed at Mac’s back.