Page 3 of Breaking Danger (Ghost Ops #3)

She’d been kidnapped by the goons of the company that had unleashed this virus, Arka Pharmaceuticals.

Before being caught, she’d had the presence of mind and the courage to take a few moments to warn Elle.

Elle had escaped, rescued by Nick, but Sophie had been caught.

Maybe those moments had been just enough to have her fall into the hands of the fuckers who wanted to test her like an animal.

Elle had been scared sick for her friend.

The three of them—Mac, Nick and Jon—had gone to Arka’s headquarters to free the people being tested, including Sophie, but she’d gone by then.

By some miracle, Sophie had escaped from the prison lab in the chaos of the infection and instead of immediately getting the hell out, she’d gone back into the offices of a building full of monsters to hunt down and steal the vaccine. On the off chance that her bravery would give humanity a chance.

It was very likely that the fate of humanity rested with one lone, brave scientist trapped on Beach Street.

He looked west, to where Beach street began. It was clogged with infected, looking like crazed cockroaches from his vantage point high on the roof of the Ghirardelli Building.

The salvation of humanity might be on that street.

Jon wasn’t too fond of humanity. To his mind, it was already barreling toward disaster before the infection exploded. Most humans were petty and mean, with streaks of greed and cruelty running through them.

But there were exceptions. To his vast surprise, he’d found out that there were many who were good and brave, talented and selfless. Haven was full of people like that. People who deserved saving.

Okay.

He looked down from the parapet of the rooftop, checking his scanner, checking the writhing masses of red and yellow that appeared on his monitor.

They were everywhere. There was never going to be a break.

San Francisco was a city of 800,000 people and he had to assume that something like 80%-90% were infected.

Maybe more. The city was teeming with infected.

He had to go.

Now.

This was not going to get any better.

Without a second thought, he anchored two steel ropes, threw them over the side, grabbed one and rappelled down the building fast, kicking away a snarling infected before landing lightly onto the paving stones and then taking off at a run for Sophie Daniels.

It was going to be a run for his life. On his side, Jon was a highly trained warrior and bristling with weapons.

But he was one man in an area bristling with…

meat . Tons of it. Looking down Beach Street he could see at least a hundred people.

Say an average of 80 kg a head, he was looking right now at 8,000 kg of lethally deranged humanity that could overwhelm him in an instant.

The only thing that was going to save him was speed.

At first, it was basically a slalom around the infected, at top speed.

By the time one of the fuckers realized he was coming, he was past them.

He was at the corner of Beach and Jones, sorry to see the Buena Vista Café torched and charred, when he had the first problem.

A big motherfucker, watching him coming, light blue eyes filled with empty madness.

Dressed like a chef, bloody toque and all.

The guy reached out with a blood-flecked hand as Jon raced past and the hand bounced off Jon’s shoulder. He gave a huge yowl that lifted the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck and then the creature launched after Jon.

This seemed to stir some kind of primitive pack instinct. Soon ten creatures started running after Jon. They might have lost their intelligence and humanity but their muscles worked just fine. They were fucking fast .

Jon turned, gave a wide blast of his stunner set to lethal, saw the big guy and four others fall dead. The pack instinct didn’t run to helping one’s fellow monsters. The fuckers behind just vaulted over the dead bodies and came after him.

The lethal stunner worked. It worked real well. It’s just that there were so goddamned many of them. One of them reached out, hand sliding over the tough material of his armored suit.

Damn.

He was close now. Sophie Daniel’s apartment building was across the street and ten meters down.

Without looking, Jon tossed a grenade behind him, sprinted across the street to the apartment building, slamming open the street doors, pulling them together and throwing the bolt. It held against the dozens of bodies that piled up against the glass doors.

Most buildings had shatter-proof glass in the doors and Jon sure hoped the building was up to code because the motherfuckers kept slamming against the now blood-smeared glass of the doors, bodies thumping, fists pounding, mouths gaping open, unearthly howls coming out of them.

They looked…astonished. They could see him but not touch him. One man bashed his face against the glass doors so hard his teeth flew out of his mouth.

They’d lost the notion of glass.

His skin crawled.

He was now locked in a building with who knew how many creatures, with no idea whether Sophie Daniels was alive or dead or even in the building.

A snarl from the darkness of the lobby and another monster came running full speed at him.

Jesus. A kid. A Chinese kid who weighed maybe 100 lbs, and who had a broken arm.

A split second of hesitation and the boy leaped, screaming, hands furled into claws, aiming for his eyes.

He didn’t even have time to bring up the stunner.

It hurt his heart, but he did it. A sharp blow from his elbow to his temple and the boy went down and stayed down.

Christ. Jon stared at him on the floor, a small broken being, unmistakably dead. A kid , for fuck’s sake. And he was the one who’d killed him. It unnerved him, left him shaken where the battlefield didn’t.

Jon didn’t do this. He’d spent his entire childhood watching the weak being destroyed by the strong. No matter how good and kind you were, if you fell into the wrong hands you were prey, and you were broken.

He’d spent his entire life trying to rectify that equation. That he was the strong one who’d killed a boy shook him down to his core.

He had to get out of here.

Sophie Daniels lived on the third floor. Jon moved fast, taking the stairs three at a time, grimly resolved. The stairs were slick with blood.

The third floor was miraculously clear. The building was a big one, and the corridor went right and left at the end. Jon rushed down, leaping over the corpses, counting doors. 312, 313, 314…315!

He looked at the lock. Oddly enough it was a pretty good one. One it would take even him a minute to pick. He was vulnerable out here, goddammit.

He knocked softly on the door. Put his mouth close. “Dr. Daniels? Dr. Sophie Daniels?”

Silence.

He pressed against it, knocking softly again. “Sophie? Elle sends me. It’s Jon Ryan, she said she sent you an email?—”

Oh Christ. A loud sound around the corner at the end. A blood-flecked face peeked around the corner. A big guy, dressed in a suit now torn in tatters. When he saw Jon he lifted his head and howled. Like a wolf.

Goose bumps broke out all over Jon’s body.

The guy started coming at him at a run.

“Sophie!” The rap was harder this time, still met by silence.

Jon put his back to the door, took aim with his Glock 310, finger on the trigger tightening, aiming at the neocortex because he wanted the fucker to go down and stay down, tunnel visioning, finger tightening, the infected barreling down the corridor screaming…

The door at his back opened, a hand grabbed him around the throat from behind and pulled.

Taken off balance, still concentrated on the shot, Jon stumbled into the room, his shot gouging a hole in the wall next to the infected, who kept on coming. He fell down onto something soft, warm, fragrant.

Jon slammed his booted foot forward, slamming the door closed. The snick of the automatic lock sounded just as he heard a heavy body hitting the door.

Safe.

Safe in some soft, aromatic place.

With a beautiful woman.

He turned over.

He found himself on top of a woman with a heart shaped face surrounded by a cloud of dark hair. The room was dark and her pale skin glowed in the dim light. Dark blue eyes, a small, straight nose, soft pillowy lips.

A face that was etched in his mind since he’d seen her photograph back in Haven among a list of scientists and test subjects who’d been kidnapped. The idea of her in the hands of Arka Pharmaceutical, who had tried to have him, Mac, Nick, Catherine and Elle killed, had haunted his thoughts.

“Sophie Daniels,” he said to the woman underneath him.

She was pale but all of a sudden her face turned rosy with a blush.

Because something else was happening. Totally out of his control. The adrenaline of the chase and the hunt had given him a hard-on. A combat boner big as a house.

And she could feel every inch of it.