Chapter 33 #2
Lab A’s door came into view, its glass shattered. He ducked through the door and did a quick sweep as the others waited in the hall. Equipment lay overturned, papers scattered across the floor like confetti.
He re-emerged and shook his head at their questioning looks.
No Keene.
They continued down the hall and heard a commotion ahead—shouted commands, the shuffle of boots on concrete, and the unmistakable sound of a standoff. Elliot held up his fist, signaling the others to halt. Pressing his back against the wall, he inched forward until he could peer around the corner.
His heart leapt. There, in the wide loading bay that led to the east garage, stood Dom, Griffin, Sabin, and at least six other WSW operatives in full tactical gear, weapons trained on a cluster of Praetorian guards.
The guards had formed a protective circle around someone—Keene, no doubt—backing slowly toward the garage doors.
And standing at the front of the Praetorian formation, barking orders in that familiar commanding tone, was a figure Elliot would recognize anywhere.
Cade.
His cousin’s face was covered, his navy blue eyes cold as he faced down Dom and the WSW team. The tactical vest he wore bore Praetorian’s insignia instead of Wilde Security’s, and the sight of it hit Elliot like a gut punch.
“Last chance,” Dom called out, his rifle trained steadily on Cade’s chest. “Stand down or we start putting holes in people.”
“You’re outgunned!” Keene shouted from the middle of his protective circle. “Let us pass, and no one else has to die today.”
Elliot’s mind raced. Dom didn’t know—couldn’t know—that the man he was about to shoot was their cousin. The mask, tactical helmet, and dim emergency lighting obscured Cade’s features enough that Dom wouldn’t recognize him at this distance.
“Dom, no!” Elliot shouted as he saw his younger brother’s finger tighten on the trigger. He lunged forward, throwing himself between the two groups. “It’s Cade!”
Dom’s eyes widened in shock, his aim wavering. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t shoot!” Elliot kept his hands raised, heart hammering against his ribs. “That’s Cade.”
The moment stretched, taut as a wire. Dom’s face contorted with disbelief, then rage, then confusion as he processed what Elliot had said. Behind him, Griffin and Sabin exchanged shocked glances but kept their weapons trained on the Praetorian guards.
“Fuck,” Sabin muttered. “Leave it to y’all Wildes to turn family reunion into a firefight.”
“Elliot,” Cade said, his voice oddly calm. “You should have stayed in the lab. You would’ve been safe. I made sure of it.”
“And you should have stayed retired,” Elliot shot back.
“What the hell are you doing, Cade?” Dom shouted.
Cade’s gaze flicked to him. “My job.”
“Your job?” Dom’s voice cracked with disbelief. “Your job is with us!”
“Not anymore.”
“I had your fucking back with the family,” Griffin seethed, “and the whole time you were working with the enemy?”
Something flickered across Cade’s face—doubt, maybe, or guilt—before the mask of indifference slipped back into place. “We’re leaving with Dr. Keene now. Step back or I will order my team to shoot.”
“Do you even know what they’re doing?” Elliot gestured toward Keene, who was clutching a metal case to his chest like it contained the crown jewels.
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.” Elliot lowered his voice, speaking directly to his cousin now. “We found Takahe Station. We saw what happened there. Dozens dead, Cade. All of them infected with the same thing that’s killing Tyler Grant right now.”
Cade’s eyes narrowed slightly. The only indication that Elliot’s words had hit their mark.
“Don’t listen to him,” Keene called from behind the protective circle. “He’s trying to manipulate you. We’re developing a cure, not a weapon.”
“Bullshit,” Rue spat, stepping up beside Elliot. “I found my friend’s body at Takahe. Maren Portillo. Remember her, Keene? The expedition leader you left to die when your first little experiment got out of control?”
Keene’s face twisted with irritation. “Unfortunate casualties in pursuit of scientific advancement.”
“Scientific advancement?” Noah scoffed. “You’re weaponizing an ancient pathogen that could wipe out half the planet.”
“Fuck,” Sabin muttered under his breath.
Elliot kept his eyes on Cade, searching for any sign that his words were getting through. “You’re not a killer, Cade. Not like this.”
For a heartbeat, it seemed like Cade might waver. His eyes locked with Elliot’s, and in them, Elliot saw the shadow of the boy who’d followed him around all summer when they were kids, the teenager who’d backed him up in every fight, the man who’d had his six in a dozen war zones.
Then Cade looked away.
“Stand down,” he ordered his men. “Let them pass.”
“What?” Keene sputtered. “You can’t?—”
“I said stand down!” Cade’s voice cracked like a whip. “I won’t fire on my family. Not even for Praetorian.”
The Praetorian guards hesitated, weapons still raised.
“No,” Keene snarled, his face contorting with rage. He lunged toward one of the distracted guards, yanking the sidearm from the man’s holster.
Time slowed to a crawl. Elliot saw the weapon come up and point at his chest, saw Keene’s finger close around the trigger.
Rue jumped in front of him.
And his heart fucking stopped.
The gunshot cracked through the loading bay, drowning out his shout. Rue jerked backward, a look of surprise crossing her face as crimson bloomed across her abdomen. She staggered, her hand instinctively pressing against the wound, then her knees buckled.
“Rue!” Elliot lunged for her, catching her before she hit the ground. The world around him exploded into chaos—shouting, gunfire, the thunder of boots on concrete—but all he could focus on was her face, the color draining from it with terrifying speed.
“No, Trouble. Stay with me.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears, distant and hollow as he dragged her behind a row of overturned equipment.
She gasped, each breath a wet, rasping sound that turned his blood to ice. He pressed his palm hard against the wound, feeling the hot rush of blood between his fingers. Too much blood. It soaked through her shirt, coating his hands in slick crimson.
“El,” she whispered, her golden eyes finding his. “Get Keene. Don’t let him—” She broke off, teeth gritted against a wave of pain. When she spoke again, her voice was thin but firm. “Go. Stop him.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
Her fingers closed around his wrist with surprising strength. “Yes, you are. Or this was all for nothing.” She forced a smile that was more grimace than grin. “I refuse to die as a fake fiancée, Wilde.”
“That’s not funny.” Over the top of the equipment, he could see Keene breaking away from the firefight, clutching his precious case as he disappeared down a side corridor.
Shit. If he reached the garage...
“Dom!” Elliot shouted. His brother’s head snapped toward him, eyes widening as he took in the blood. “Keene’s escaping and Rue’s hit!”
Noah appeared at his side. “What can I do?”
“Go get Irina.”
Noah nodded and sprinted toward the lab.
“Go,” Rue whispered again, her grip on his wrist loosening. “I’m not dying today. But a lot of people will if he gets away with that sample.”
Elliot looked down at her—at the woman who’d never backed down from a fight, who’d dragged herself up a hundred-foot ice chimney on a sprained ankle, who’d held him through the night like she was afraid he might disappear—and made his decision.
“I love you.” He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Don’t you dare die on me, Trouble.”