Page 112 of Duty Devoted

“Hit it harder.”

“I’m a scientist, not a—” The panel gave way with a crash. “Oh.”

“Ten seconds.”

I practically threw her up into the opening, then jumped, catching the edge. My shoulder screamed bloody murder, but I hauled myself up just as boots thundered into the hallway below.

“Tyler Hughes!” The voice had lost its conversational tone. “You’re making a mistake.”

I pulled the panel back into place, plunging us into darkness. Charlotte’s breathing was rapid, scared.

“Hey.” I found her hand in the dark. “You did good.”

“Where are we going?”

Good question. I oriented myself, mental map of the building overlaying with what I knew about standard HVAC design. “These should connect to the maintenance shaft near the east stairwell. From there?—”

The panel below us exploded upward in a spray of automatic weapons fire.

Charlotte screamed. I shoved her forward. “Move! Move!”

We crawled through the darkness, bullets punching through the thin metal beneath us. Left turn. Right turn. Another left. The shooting stopped, but I could hear them below, tracking our movement.

“Here.” I found another access panel, this one opening into a utility closet. I dropped down first, weapon ready. Clear. “Come on.”

Charlotte lowered herself down, and I caught her, trying to ignore how perfectly she fit against me. Not the time, Hughes.

“Now what?” she whispered.

I cracked the door. The hallway beyond was empty, but that wouldn’t last. We were three floors up, multiple hostiles in thebuilding, and Charlotte had the only working Phoenix Protocol antidote in her head.

My phone buzzed. Jace:911 - Your location compromised. Evac now.

Yeah, thanks for the heads up.

“Doc.” I turned to Charlotte. “Remember what I said about trusting me?”

She nodded.

“Good. Because this next part’s going to require a leap of faith.” I pulled her close, whispering the plan in her ear. Her eyes widened with each word.

“That’s insane.”

“That’s Tuesday at Citadel Solutions.” I checked the hallway again. Still clear. “Ready?”

“The statistical probability of this working is?—”

I kissed her. Quick, hard, and completely inappropriate given the circumstances. When I pulled back, her glasses were fogged and her mouth hung open.

“Stop thinking,” I said. “Start running.”

We burst into the hallway just as the elevator dinged.

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