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The hall Bast leads us to is quiet, eerily so. I feel as though I’m being watched, which I know is ridiculous, but I can’t shake it off.
“This place gives me the creeps,” I say.
“I know what you mean,” Bast agrees. “Something feels off. That’s why I came to get you guys instead of investigating on my own. It seemed like a recipe for disaster, and a slow death, if I went solo.”
“You’re probably right,” Jax says, assuring him of his decision. It’s times like these that I see their friendship, their brotherhood. It’s not shown in big deeds, but in small ones, though the support is always there.
“Here,” Bast says, pointing to a door at our left. “This is it, and as you can see, the floor from this door all the way down from where we came is shinier.”
My brain gears start turning.
Why would someone clean the floor from this door back? The hall keeps going. It’s like they’ve made a path or covered one up...
“Someone was dragged here.”
“What?” Bast says.
“How do you know?” Jax asks.
“They were injured,” I go on, “and left a trail of blood that had to be wiped away. That’s why the floor is only cleaned up to this door. The victim must still be inside.”
“And whoever did it,” Jax finishes for me, “doesn’t want that person to be found.”
Bast looks at me in awe. “Holy shit, you’re good.”
I shrug. “I know from experience, except I would’ve cleaned the entire hall and I wouldn’t have been so stupid as to leave blood on the door after all that work.”
“Maybe it’s a trap,” Bast suggests.
“What?”
“All the leftover evidence,” he says. “Maybe they did want it to be found.”
I frown. “I guess that’s possible.”
“Well,” Jax says, “there’s only one way to find out.” He backs up to the wall, and then rushes forward, slamming the side of his body against the door. The lock snaps. The door swings open, hits the inside wall, and swings back. It stays ajar about an inch.
I look at Jax. “You’re lucky that worked.”
He rolls his shoulder. “Storage room doors and locks are flimsy, everyone knows that.”
I roll my eyes in return. “Come on; let’s see if it’s a trap or a person.”
“Uh, guys...?” Bast says. “It’s a person. At least, I think.”
What?
I turn around and see Bast with one foot already in the storage room. The door is wide open and I catch a glimpse of what he’s seeing.
Assassins below...
I step forward, as if in a trance, and push past Bast for a better look. Then I wish I hadn’t. I understand now why Bast said he thought it was a person. The woman—and I know it’s a woman only from the long hair—has clearly been tortured to within an inch of her life.
Her face is covered in lacerations and burns. Her nose is broken, the blood still on her face, though long dried now. From the way she’s slumped against the wall, I can tell one arm is broken and the other one is hanging from a dislocated shoulder. Her neck is painted with small cuts, enough to sting while not puncturing her main arteries. I sense that she likely has several broken ribs and hasn’t eaten or had water in days. She has no shoes and her feet are a crimson disaster. She might never walk comfortably again. I can’t see her legs, but judging from the amount of blood on her pants, they have similar injuries to the rest of her body.
The worst part is that if it hadn’t been for the black uniform and red cape that now lie in tatters, I never would’ve recognized her.
“Holy Gods above,” I breathe. “Trey?”
Behind me, Jax swears, but I’m hardly listening.
Trey moans at the sound of her name and tries to sit up.
I fall to my knees in front of her. “No, no. Lie down,” I tell her, “you’ll only make it worse.” I flash back to a similar scene when it was her telling me to lie down. That was after she and Kuen had saved Jax and I from drowning in that tank. Our roles weren’t supposed to be reversed.
Silent tears fall fast and furious down my cheeks.
“Trey, what happened? How did you get here? Who did this to you?” My voice is frantic and enraged. This isn’t happening. She shouldn’t have had to endure...
“Quinn,” she croaks, through her ravaged throat, likely rubbed raw from screaming.
I can barely hear her, but I bring my head closer. “What? Tell me what I can do. Please...”
“They’re inside...the walls.”
“What? Who?”
“The enemy,” she gasps. Then she slumps back again, unconscious.
I try to piece together what she said. The enemy is inside the walls. The enemy...
I thought I knew fear, thought I’d conquered it long ago, but I’ve never felt so cold.
“Oh God,” I gasp, “the assassins are here.”
“What?” Jax gasps. “How?”
“I don’t know, but if she’s right, we’re in serious trouble. We need—” I stop my sentence in my tracks as I hear a distant crack, almost as if...
“Was that a gunshot?” Jax asks.
“I desperately want to say no, but I’d be lying,” I reply.
“So this is really happening?” Bast asks. “The assassins are here, in the base?” Somewhere, someone starts screaming and a shiver runs down my spine.
“It would seem so, and with the Warehouse on lockdown, we’re all sitting ducks. We have to move. Trey needs to get to the hospital and then we have to find out for sure what’s going on—” My words are interrupted again, this time by the screeching of the PA system followed by an eruption of loud gunfire.
Jenson's voice attempts to ring out through the static in the lines. “All agents to their posts. There has been a security breach. I repeat, everyone to arms. We are under attack. I repeat—” His voice cuts off, but we’ve heard everything we need to hear, at least for the moment. Jax, Bast, and I share a look.
Then Bast says, “I have to find Blake.” He starts down the hall and I follow him out of the room.
“You can’t go by yourself!” I call after him. “It’s not safe!”
He gives me a look. “She’s out there all alone. I promised her I wouldn’t leave her by herself again. One of us needs to find her. You and Jax have your hands full.”
“Okay, you’re right, but please be careful.”
He grins like a maniac. “Careful is my middle name.” Then he races off without a backward glance.
Jax calls my name.
I turn to see him standing in the storage room’s doorway, Trey’s broken frame cradled in his arms. She looks so fragile.
“I’ve got her,” Jax assures me. “Your job will be to keep the assassins off us until we reach the hospital.”
I nod and draw my guns. “It would be my pleasure,” I reply.
“Then lead the way.”