Chapter 61

The door swings open—one device soars in the air, followed by another.

"GRENADE!"

A blinding thunderflash ensues an ear-shattering bang. I'm on the floor, hearing held hostage by a constant ringing. My sight blurred, flitting in and out, disoriented. The siren goes off only adding to the dissonance. Panic rousing fear. I scramble for the rifle, rising to see the entire penthouse flooded with a grey smog like a thunderstorm erupted within the tall walls.

Sporadic flashes of white and a barrage of flying bullets.

Coughs claw out of my gas-clogged throat, sobering fast, lending me better vision.

I look into the precision lens with optical, infrared thermal imaging. I can see the heat signatures of both friendlies and hostiles, but I can't tell the difference until the gas from the smoke grenade clears. A staccato of stomping from my right. More than one, but less than four, make their way up the staircase. I hunker down into a crouched position. One shot to the chest—stupid, they're wearing body armour. A blaze of pain tears through my arm, knocking me back and sending me to one knee. One of them gets past me and down the passage. The other three are not so lucky, all three are spawled on the steps with blood fountaining from their foreheads.

*Calum.*

I drag myself down, accelerating to a jog. I check the injury—flesh wound, I'll live.

A bolt of panic. Calum's dread-drenched voice. Urgency mutes my pain, infusing me with vigour as I come into the open room with Calum standing in front of his desk, a splay of damaged computer screens behind him, riddled with bullet holes. He catches a glimpse of me but maintains his cool the best he can to not alert the combatant who has a weapon in his hands.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

Calum raises his hands well above his head, his palms exposed.

"The hack came from this terminal. You did a good job masking the IP address with false proxies, but every covert file above a certain clearance level has an embedded malware. The moment you opened it, you were compromised."

Calum keeps his gaze low. "I don't know what you want from me, man. This was just a job. If you want to kill me for wanting to pay my rent, do what you have to."

"Those aren't my orders." He lowers his rifle to take out a stun gun. "Orian Moon sends his regards."

I raise my weapon. "Drop it."

He freezes, then slowly revolves to look at me. He breaks into an ominous smile. "You're her."

I aim the barrel at his forehead. "Congrats. Want a stuffed bear or something?"

On the verge of retort, Calum goes for the stun gun and brings it to his neck so the electrical pulse from the voltage can render him unconscious. But it doesn't. With superluminal speed, he manoeuvres to hold Calum in front of him, using him has a body shield, his rifle is still secured to him, dangling from the straps. He takes out his sidepiece and holds the barrel of the gun to my best friend's temple. Calum's eyes clamp shut for a moment.

"You drop it," he orders me.

"Don't do it," Calum begs. "You know he'll kill us both."

I keep my barrel trained on him. Calum signals to something with his eyes. I glance at the computer behind him with the bullet-ridden monitors. I edge closer. The assailant retreats.

"Stop."

I dare to make one last advance until he's just at the edge of the desk and Calum is in range.

"Stop or I'll empty my clip in his head."

I stop. I lower the rifle to the floor and I kick it aside.

"Interlock your fingers."

Calum's hand slithers out, seconds out from the keyboard.

I place my hands behind my head, cracking into a smile. He frowns.

Calum hits the spacebar and all the lights go out in a blink. I charge at him, ramming my knee into him and knocking the gun out of his hand. He goes low to capture me and drives me back into the adjacent wall. He hurls a gut-wrenching punch—vanqishing the air in my lungs and I nearly drop. A metallic glint. I spot a switchblade strapped to his cargo pants. I unsheathe it swiftly, then I plunge it into his thigh, squirting out blood and squeezing out a pained groan from him. I spring back, creating wary distance between us.

"Calum. Lights!"

A rustle of movement in the dark. He grumbles then fumbles for me. Seconds later, the lights go on and he bullrushes me to the floor, sending us both to the ground with a hard thud. He reclaims his blade and thrusts it up high and brings it down with formidable force but I intercept. His strength exceeds mine tenfold—the blade inches from my neck. A gunshot—blood bursts from his head, splattering on my face. I push his deadweight off, heaving myself from out beneath him.

I look at Calum with the trembling gun in his hand. His eyes struck wide.

"I just—I just."

"You didn't have a choice." Cold comfort.

He darts back and fresh fear creeps up my spine as I realise what we have all done. Calum points frantically at it written in bold.** S.W. A.T.** He backs away, terror rearing up within him.

"This is bad."

"You think?" he screams back. "Orian's got plants in the bureau? The CIA knows I hacked them." He goes off om a tangent, fear flooding his eyes. "They're gonna brand me a terrorist, claim that I'm threatening national security and I'm going to sell state secrets to foreign agencies or criminals." His chest heaves and he clutches his top. "Oh god, it doesn't help that I killed a federal agent." He looks back at me, his eyes zip to my arm. "You've been shot!"

"I'm fine."

"Not anymore—duck!"

We both dive to the floor and I jerk out of the way. When they're close enough, I cut their legs from underneath them with a quick swipe. The side of her head smacks against the floor and she glares back at me. I launch a brutal kick at her face and it whips in the opposite direction. I hurry to Calum, helping him back up as I take the gun from his hand.

The girl gets back up. The rifle is strapped around her, but the safety is engaged.

She dabs a gloved hand beneath her nose, then her mouth, checking for blood. "If that's how you welcome guests, I'd hate to see how you treat your enemies."

I point the gun at her. "I don't remember sending an invite."

"I'm here to help. From where I stand, you don't have a choice," she says with a regal English accent. "The building has been breached and is surrounded. I'm not threatening you; I'm warning you. I know everything about you, Hadassah Moor. The elite private investigator caught between the jaws of two major crime syndicates. You were investigating Orian Moon's alleged criminal affiliations. Next, you were seen arm-in-arm attending a high-profile event togther. I didn't find it a coincidence."

"Yeah?"

She nods eagerly. "The agency has a complete dossier of you and the work you have done, and the criminals that got persecuted and locked away because of your intel. You got in deep with one of the most dangerous, better than any undercover operative. Believe me when I say. I'm here to help."

"That's all well on good, beach-blondie," Calum says and gestures to the unconscious one. "One of the members of your tactical team works for Orian. You have moles, therefore we can't trust anyone just cause they got a badge and credentials."

Her eyes skim over him, and by the mounting horror on her face, she knows him.

"Hadassah!" Torin. "Calum!"

"I can personally see to your protection with a detail of men that I can personally vett myself."

"Only one problem." I glance up. "I don't trust you either."

I aim at the lights and shoot. The glass explodes and showers her with sparks and fragments. She ducks, covering her head. Calum and I sprint to the door. Calum makes it out, but she latches onto me and throws me against the wall, then pins me against the surface with her forearm pressed against my throat. The gun still in my hand. Her gaze slips to look at it.

"I know you're not going to shoot me," she says with certainty. "Because you're a good person and I know you're trapped. I'm offering you a way out."

My breathing laboured, I find myself deliberating. The idea is realistic as a dream, she doesn't comprehend how beholden I am to the Moons. Torin appears in my periphery. She looks away and I pistol whip her. She falls on the ground, unconscious. Torin nods me over and I run out with him. He runs ahead and Calum joins my side.

"Did you kill her?"

"Knocked her out so Torin wouldn't."

Calum's face is blanched, draining of colour and clearly sick to his stomach.

Corpses of dead operatives scattered everywhere, red decorating the window with a grisy spray of blood. Most, if not all of Torin's men survived. I mean, they are veterans with years of lethal skill and instinct integrated within them. We descend the staircase, running past dead men with halos of blood above their heads. One of them twitches. Torin's man ends him with a bullet to the brain.

"Two units secured the rooftop," one of them informs. "More feds on route."

"They're too late," Torin mutters.

We all clump into the elevator. The doors close, sealing us inside with the pungent odour of sweat and blood mixing. The elevator ascends and when it stops; the men hold their weapons ready. They exit in tactical formation. A black helicopter already waits on the landing pad and two more are flying southbound. The rooftop is overrun with Torin's men. He makes Calum and I go ahead of him and we both file inside and Torin slides in after us.

"We'll rendezvous back at the villa," he yells over the whooshing noise of the rotary blades.

The man backs away, hunched over, and the helicopter is swept into the night. The two other choppers are inbound to extract the rest of them.

Calum's head lolls, then he lifts it sharply like he's fighting to stay awake. And he's paler than before, life leaking with his breaths. I examine him and only now I notice the growing stain in his top.