Page 108 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2

I catch Carter’s eye, tip my head slightly. He nods, understanding instantly. We move in perfect sync, hugging the shadows and closing the distance.

Ten yards. Five. Three.

The first guard never sees me. My forearm locks around his throat, cutting off blood flow to the brain. His partner turns just as Carter’s blade finds the soft spot beneath his ear. Both men drop to the concrete without a sound.

Walt and Blake secure the bodies while Rigel keeps watch. Jeb grabs the weapon and examines it.

“Biometric lock,” he murmurs. “Useless to us.”

I nod. Expected as much. Malfor’s tech doesn’t play well with strangers.

We move deeper into the compound. The layout matches Whisper’s schematics. A service door. A maintenance corridor. A security checkpoint.

“Camera,” Gabe warns.

We freeze, pressing against walls. The camera swivels, mechanical eye scanning the empty hallway, then locks suddenly, jerking in place.

“The Trojan horse is working,” Rigel breathes. “Glitching their systems.”

“Thirty seconds,” Ethan cautions.

We slip past in pairs. Gabe limps beside me, teeth clenched against pain. His bandage shows fresh blood. I don’t mention it. He’d tell me to fuck off anyway.

Whisper’s voice crackles through comms. “Charlie team, be advised. Cerberus has breached the server hub. Initiating system override.”

“Copy,” Ethan responds. “Status on subjects?”

“Detecting six female biosignatures. Sublevel B, east quadrant.”

All alive. Relief floods my system, but I don’t let it show.

Another corridor. Another silent takedown. My muscles move through the familiar dance of death, no hesitation, no regret. These men chose their side.

“Contact,” Blake warns suddenly.

A guard rounds the corner ahead, spots Rigel before anyone can react. His hand flies to his sidearm.

Walt moves with startling speed for his size. Three steps and he’s on the guard, massive hand clamping over mouth and nose. The guard’s eyes bulge as Walt’s other arm drives upward, the combat knife finding the soft underside of the jaw. Blood sprays across the wall in an arterial arc.

Too loud. Too messy.

We freeze, waiting for alarms. For shouts. For anything.

Nothing.

“Move the body,” Ethan orders.

Blake and Walt drag the corpse into a maintenance closet. The blood trail remains, dark against white tile.

“Secure the junction,” I tell Carter. “Jeb, watch our six.”

We press deeper into the facility. The sterile corridors give way to a more clinical section. Labs. Testing facilities. The walls here gleam under harsh fluorescent light.

A familiar scent hits me. Floral. Delicate. My heart rate spikes.

“Hold,” I whisper, moving toward a small table against the wall.

A woman’s ID badge lies discarded beside a clipboard. The photo shows a face I don’t recognize. Blood stains one corner of the plastic.