Page 44 of Holding the Line

“Same here,” Ezra echoed.

Marsh nodded to himself.“We’re taking control.Everyone hold the line.”

Then—a sudden feeling of dread swept through him.He had no idea where it came from, but he suddenly needed to hear Eli’s voice.

“Eli?”he asked.“Report.”

Silence.

“Ty?Blake?”

Nothing.

His stomach dropped.

“Security at comms lab, check-in.Now.”

Still silence.

“Fuck,” Bateman snapped.“Blake, report.Ty?”

Dale swore, torn.“Oren’s down, I—”

“I’m fine,” Oren cut in.“Go.Go to Ty.”

“I got him, Dale,” Hogan said.

Marsh was already moving, sprinting from cover, lungs pumping fire, legs blurring.The ground vanished beneath his feet.

Don’t be gone.Don’t be hurt.Please, God—

Marsh slammed into the lab door, shoulder-first, breath ragged.Bateman and Dale were right behind him, weapons raised, eyes scanning.The scene that greeted them froze Marsh to the floor.

Ty was crumpled beside the monitoring table, a dart sticking from the side of his neck—and another from his shoulder.Blake was slumped against the opposite wall, pale and unmoving, one hand half-curled around a pistol he’d never gotten the chance to lift.

Bateman cursed and dropped to his knees beside Blake, checking his pulse.“He’s alive.Sedative.Strong one.”

Dale was already at Ty’s side, pressing two fingers to his throat.“Same.Shit.Why two darts?”

“Bigger target, maybe,” Bateman muttered.

Marsh didn’t move.Couldn’t.The lab felt like it tilted beneath him, his vision narrowing.Eli wasn’t there.

He was supposed to be there.

And he wasn’t.

The silence pressed in too tightly.Then—Dev’s voice.And the world snapped back into motion.

“Marsh.Get to the build site.Now.”

“What—”

“He’s coming.Black tactical.Full gear.Moving through the trap corridor like he knows it by heart.And he’s got Eli.Gun to his temple.”

Marsh didn’t answer.

He ran faster.