Page 95 of Iron Willed Warrior

The gag that had been in my mouth was on the floor. I shoved it past Westwick’s lips, securing the gag with some duct tape that I found in a kitchen drawer. It really did seem like somebody lived here. The cabinets were full of all kinds of supplies, like dishes and non-perishable food.

A chest of drawers near the bathroom held clothing. Men’s clothing.

I also found my purse lying on the ground. My phone was missing, probably cracked into pieces and scattered in the desert. But River’s flash drive was still here. Somebody had found it inside the lining and probably taken a look at the drive. But they’d left it alone, likely believing it was just a tube of lipstick. Score one for the Protectors.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t found a phone in Westwick’s pockets, so I couldn’t upload the virus just yet.

I tied up Westwick’s wrists behind his back, flopping him facedown on the cot. I turned his head so that he would be able to breathe through his nose. I was merciful like that.

I had to get out of this room and figure out where exactly I was. Maybe I would find a computer or something. Means of communication, so I could send out a call to the Protectors for help.

But that meant dealing with the armed guard outside the room.

After going through the kitchen and finding only sad, dull knives, I decided to use the folding one I had taken from Westwick. I opened the blade, weighing it in my hand and getting ready.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

With quick, decisive moves, I yanked open the door, keeping the knife out of sight at my side. The Stillwater guard glanced at me, barely moving his head.

“It’s Garon,” I said. “I think he’s sick. Please help!”

The guard’s thick brows knit. He looked past me into the room. I brought the knife up and drove it into his jugular. He started to fall, and I eased his hand away from the trigger of his weapon.

It had taken three seconds, maybe four.

I took another breath.

The dead guard was heavy. I dragged him into the room and laid him on the floor beside the cot. After using a towel to wipe the blood the best I could, I went back inside and shut the door.

A check of the many pockets of the guard’s uniform revealed a keycard and radio, which I stuck into my purse with the knife. I pulled the strap of the rifle over his head and set the weapon aside.

I needed some new clothes. My sundress was ripped, drenched in sweat, and now spattered with the guard’s blood.

I put on a pair of sweats and a tee I found in the chest of drawers. Whoever normally lived in this room wasn’t a big guy, since the clothes were only a little baggy on me. Sadly, his sneakers were huge. Those weren’t going to work. I didn’t want to wear my wedge sandals either. Why couldn’t Brianna have worn flats?

No time to worry about that. I slung my purse over my arm, followed by the gun. Time to find out where exactly I was and how to get out.

Silently, I made my way down the cinderblock hallway, gun aimed ahead of me. The concrete floor was cool against my bare feet. A ventilation system whooshed, circulating air that smelled of dust and something metallic. There were no windows.

The solar plant. That was where they’d taken me, which made sense. This was a secure Stillwater facility. Westwick had mentioned a ride coming for us in the morning. Ryker was supposed to go check on it. He could be anywhere.

After a few yards, I passed a set of elevator doors. One button with an arrow pointing up. I considered pressing it, but what if this elevator took me straight to a bunch more Stillwater guards? I could handle one at a time, but no more than that, even with an automatic weapon in my hands.

My best hope was that they had no clue I’d gotten free.

I came to a corner. Carefully glanced around it. Sucked in a breath at what I saw.

It was a massive, open room, so large I couldn’t make out the far walls to the left and right. The place looked like one of those enormous storage archives the FBI maintained for old cases. Rows and rows going almost to the ceiling. Except instead of cabinets or shelves holding boxes, it was allelectronics. Stacks and stacks of black plastic and metal and blinking lights. Wires.

These were servers. It was some kind of data center.

In my direct line of sight, a glass door revealed a man at a desk with multiple computer screens. He typed away at a keyboard. Then rolled his chair to grab something, and I ducked back to hide.

If there were computers, I had to assume there would be some way to reach the outside world. I hadn’t seen Ryker or any other guards yet. The guy sitting at the desk had looked more like an IT expert than a mercenary.

The man in the office swiveled away, turning his back to the glass door. I dashed forward. Hid between the rows of servers. Then made the same move again.

Once I’d made my way across, I snuck a better look at the door to the office. There was a keycard reader. Nothing else. No fancy biometrics like what Cole and I had seen on the exterior door, but that made sense. I was already inside.

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