Chapter 70 – thiago
Seventy
thiago
Bullets pierce the wall behind me as I race down the corridor, the tactical team closing in fast. Adrenaline blunts the pain enough to allow speed and agility I shouldn’t still have. Ahead, a chime sounds as the elevator doors begin to close.
I push myself harder, and pain sears through my abdomen with every stride, but I force myself to keep moving. By the time I reach the elevator and wedge my arm between the doors, fresh blood is already soaking through the bandage beneath my shirt.
They bounce open, and I stumble inside, pressing the lobby button as voices draw closer in behind me.
“Stop!”
One of the agents lunges for the elevator just as the doors close, his hand reaching through the narrowing gap, but they seal before he can grab hold.
The car starts its descent, and I brace my back against the side panel, my weapon trained on the doors. My free hand presses against my side. When I pull it away, my palm is slick with blood, some of it already soaking through the bandages around my fingers.
Fuck.
The stitches are open.
I bear down on the wound, but the pressure sends a sharp bolt of pain through my body and forces the air from my lungs. I grit my teeth until it passes.
They’ll lock down the lobby before I even reach it. Every exit, stairwell, and vehicle will be covered, and in my condition, I won’t make it past a tactical team waiting for me when these doors open.
I close my eyes for a second and see Remi standing on the terrace.
“Minha chama…”
I’m sick at the thought of them reaching her before I do.
I’m not dying here before I know she’s safe.
My hand leaves my abdomen long enough to hit the buttons for several floors.
The elevator stops at the next one, opening onto an administrative level lined with offices and conference rooms. I slip into the hallway, leaving the remaining buttons lit as the doors close behind me and the car continues toward the lobby.
Each movement tugs at my wound, and the dark stain spreads across the front of my shirt. I button my jacket and keep my pace steady. Running will draw attention, and right now, blending in is my only advantage left.
A woman hurries past me with a tablet tucked against her chest, too focused on the overhead alarm to spare me more than a passing glance, while another man barks into his radio as he rushes toward the stairwell.
“All tactical units to the lobby. Suspect is descending.”
They took the bait.
I turn down a side corridor and push through a door marked AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
The mechanical room beyond hums with generators and air handlers. I move between the pipes, keeping one hand pressed against my abdomen until I reach the opposite exit. My fingers are starting to feel clumsy around the grip of my weapon. I flex them once before cracking the door.
No one’s there, so I push through.
The hallway is empty, and the security office sits at the end. I punch in the code I memorized weeks ago. When the lock clicks, two analysts spin toward me, surprise written on their faces. One reaches for the panic button, but I’m across the room before he can.
I strike him across the temple with the handle of my gun before driving my shoulder into his partner. Pain tears through my side on impact, but I use my momentum to send him sprawling over his chair. His head slams against the console, and his body goes limp.
I straighten with a grimace as the monitors continue cycling through camera feeds from every floor.
This is exactly what I need.
Moving toward the console, I begin working through the building’s security systems, triggering fire alarms, unlocking emergency exits, rerouting cameras, and overriding the elevators.
Within seconds, the building erupts into chaos.
Red strobes flash across the security feeds as emergency protocols clash with tactical commands.
Agents converging on the lobby veer off course, some heading toward evacuation routes while others respond to alarms on opposite ends of the building.
The confusion buys me one thing bullets can’t: time to get the fuck out of here and warn Remi. I don’t know if she’ll ever forgive me or let me get close enough to touch her again, but none of that matters if Helios gets to her first.
I exit through a rear door and follow a narrow maintenance corridor behind the elevator shafts until I reach a concrete stairwell few people outside Helios even know exists.
Elena made sure I knew every inch of this building during my training, and now I’m using everything she taught me against the organization she trained me to serve.
The stairs open into the underground parking garage, where engines roar to life as response teams flood in through the vehicle entrance. A black SUV swings around the corner, and the driver reaches for the radio mounted on the dash, but he spots me a second too late.
I yank open his door and drag him from the seat. Another burst of pain sears through my wound, but I drive my elbow into his jaw before he can draw the pistol at his hip. He collapses onto the pavement with a groan.
“Come on, Braga. Almost there,” I mutter as I climb into the driver’s seat and slam the door.
Because apparently getting out of this building wasn’t going to be that fucking easy.
I floor the accelerator, but I’m not fast enough to clear the gate.
The reinforced arm crashes into the windshield with a deafening crack, then snaps off its hinges as glass explodes through the cabin.
I throw an arm over my face and keep my foot down, driving the SUV through what’s left of the barrier and into the street.
Sirens erupt behind me, but Philadelphia keeps moving ahead, completely unaware that the woman I love has just become a target of one of the most powerful organizations in the country.
I grit my teeth. They’ll have to kill me before they ever lay a hand on her.
Once I’ve put three blocks between myself and the Helios building, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial the only person who might listen long enough to warn them.
He answers on the third ring.
“Matteo.” My voice comes out rough. “Please don’t hang up.”
“I only answered to tell you what a piece of shit you are and that if I ever see you again—”
“Yeah, I know.” I glance in the rearview mirror as I weave around a delivery truck. “Maybe I am, but there’s no time for that. You all need to leave. Right now. They’re coming for you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Your people?”
“They’re not my—” I stop myself because none of that matters. “Yes. They’re assembling containment teams as we speak, and they could already be on their way.”
“What the fuck did you do?”
“I tried to stop it.” The admission burns on the way out. “I made it worse.” I bury the gas. “Get Remi. Get your parents. Everyone. And don’t let Zara out of your sight.”
The line goes quiet.
“Braga...”
“She isn’t safe. None of you are.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain.”
A black SUV appears in my rearview and cuts through traffic behind me.
“Fuck. They found me.”
“What?”
“They found me.” I floor it as they close in.
“Matteo, listen to me. If I don’t make it to her, I need you to tell Remi I love her.
” My voice breaks, but I keep going because this might be the last chance I ever get to make sure she knows.
“Tell her everything we had was real, every smile, every kiss, every time I looked at her, I meant it.” Tears blur my eyes, and I blink hard to clear it.
“Tell her I’m sorry, that I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell her the truth before it was too late. ”
“Braga—”
Headlights fill my peripheral vision before I can react.
Metal slams into the driver’s side, lifting the SUV off the pavement. The impact throws me against the door, and white-hot pain rips through my wound as the world dissolves beneath the violent shriek of twisting steel.