Komodo stood behind her, watching her every move, a hand placed protectively on the back of her seat. The ex-Delta man had been excited to see Romero and Smyth joining the team, but made it clear he would only socialize with them once a week during downtime, preferring to spend the bulk of his free days with Karin.
The ribbing he had endured only strengthened his resolve. Yes, he enjoyed cooking for her. No, he wasn’t about to sizzle Romero and Smyth up some smokehouse wings.
Hayden surveyed the big screen. “You’re playing Galaga? Seriously, is nothing happening in the world?”
Karin motioned toward her other screens, in between shooting the enemy spacecraft. “Got everything set up. Nada on the agency feeds, the news links, the Web troll bots. Hey, it’s only been four days. Don’t worry, some highborn, arrogant ass will decide he wants to rule the world in the next day or two. Besides—” she nodded at the wall clock, “— shift’s over. T-vor’s going to show me his expertise around the kitchen.”
Hayden had to admit she was right, and the prospect of spending a relaxed night with Mano did sound appealing. “Alright. We’re heading out.” She snaked an arm around her boyfriend’s large, muscle-bound waist and pulled him toward the single lift that led down to the underground parking garage.
“Night,” Karin called.
Hayden leaned in. “What’s new at the movies?”
“There’s this new film playing at Casa Kinimaka. It’s called, Here’s to us.”
Hayden hugged him harder. “Raise a glass… ‘cause the last few weeks have kicked our ass?” she paraphrased. “I know the song.” She reached out to press the lift’s call button, surprised to see it was already lit.
“Must be Romero and Smyth on their way back up. Those boys would—”
The lift dinged and the doors slid open with a whoosh. The small space beyond was jam-packed with men, all wearing black bodysuits, adaptive goggles and carrying Heckler and Kochs. The leader, face as white as a sheet, shouted an order as he saw Hayden and Kinimaka, then the whole world went straight to hell.
Hayden sprang to the side, hitting the wall hard. Kinimaka rolled with her, keeping his immense body between her and the attacking force. Men poured out of the lift. Komodo appeared in the doorway behind, fantastically quick, gun in hand, and sized up the situation in less time than it takes to kill a man with a bullet. He fired at the crowd, sending men sprawling and scrambling for cover. Kinimaka started to drag Hayden back toward Komodo, but already half a dozen gun barrels were drawing a bead on them. They had no time.
The plaster wall beside them exploded outward. Two huge figures stepped into the corridor, Romero and Smyth, already firing. Only the leader stayed upright, maybe sensing that ducking for cover in this situation would get him nowhere and increase his risk. He reached in and calmly sent the lift back down to the parking garage.
Shit, Hayden thought. Did they have more men down there?
Romero grunted as a bullet struck his Kevlar vest. Two of the attackers fell back, painting the corridor walls with their blood. Two more folded over, also hit hard in their bulletproof armor. Kinimaka scrambled back as best he could, pushing Hayden behind him. She was the first to reach Komodo, and he knew her well enough to forget the rescue and hand her a gun.
“How the hell did they get in here?”
But Hayden knew, rather than be worrying about that just yet, Karin would be calling for back up. It should already be on its way — unless something bigger was going on in Washington tonight.
Why that thought crossed her mind, Hayden never knew. It probably had something to do with a sense of foreboding that crept down her spine on spidery feet, but more likely the result of the leader of the group removing his goggles and giving them a big grin.
“The Blood King sends his regards,” he said, and fired at the same time as his men.
Hayden forced the terrifying sight of that crazy white albino face from her mind and tried to scurry away. Bullets whizzed above her head and around Kinimaka’s frame. Romero and Smyth, clad in body armor, leaped in front, taking multiple hits, their bodies jerking like marionettes.
“No!” Was that my own screaming voice? she thought.
Showers of plaster blasted from the walls and cascaded all around. A bullet parted Kinimaka’s hair, so close to killing him that Hayden saw the lock of hair that flew from his skull. It was only a matter of time.
She leaned around him even as he forced her further back, firing over Romero and Smyth, seeing at least two of the attackers convulse. The albino’s hard, battle-worn face stared back at her so fiercely she had to look away. She forced Mano to the side and fired until her clip was empty.
Smyth scrambled on his elbows and back toward her, firing hard, groaning as Romero clambered across his legs. Komodo must have caught a weapon thrown by Karin for he suddenly reappeared, rifle in hand, and began to give their assailants some solid return fire.
Because of his position, Hayden pushed Kinimaka into the ops room first. Her brief view showed Karin on her knees, sliding a second rifle across the floor to the big man.
Fucking A. They had a chance here, a chance made out of nothing by a competent and clever team with crazy skills. Kinimaka spun and added his fire to Komodo’s. Hayden slid through the doorway, Smyth and Romero staggering after her.
“What the fuck!” Smyth yelled.
“I thought you two had left.” Hayden stooped to pick up another rifle.
“Nah. We hit the showers. But I gotta ask, what’s the point of communal showers if there’re no chicks around? Available chicks,” he added.
“Shut it.” Romero slammed Smyth’s shoulder hard, wincing with pain. “Took one in the forearm. Listening to your caterwauling don’t help it much.”
“Shit, are you okay?” Smyth’s tone changed instantly as he bent to examine his team mate’s arm. “You’re bleeding. Fuck!”
“Calm down. It just a bullshit flesh wound.”
“Oh. Ya fuckin’ pussy.”
Komodo was last through the door. Karin rose as he crossed the threshold, relief apparent in her face. The trouble with this team, Hayden thought. Is that we all love each other too fucking much.
“Retreat,” she breathed unnecessarily. They all knew what to do.
Komodo led the way, with Karin, Hayden, and then Kinimaka coming up behind him. Romero and Smyth brought up the rear. Before they had moved three steps, Hayden heard the lift ding again and the soft whispering of orders. Their attackers had just been reinforced.
“Someone planned this,” she said as she walked. “Down to the last detail. But Kovalenko’s still in prison…” she paused as something occurred to her. They all knew it was his prison that had suffered the riot much earlier that day, and no one in law enforcement had so far managed to get near the place. Could some inmates have escaped in the chaos? It didn’t seem likely, but then this was Kovalenko they were dealing with; a man who for many years had convinced the world he was a mere myth.
In that case, everyone needed warning.
She ran harder. Where’s Gates? she wondered. And fuck, even more important than that, where’s the man who signed the order to incarcerate Kovalenko — the President?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Through the ops room they dashed, Karin pulling down a large lever by the side of a junction box, an act that wouldn’t prevent a determined enemy from stealing their hard drives but would at least shut them all down. Komodo dragged her along almost before she could finish, darting through the open door and into the conference room. Behind them the sounds of pursuit intensified.