Page 100 of Broken Sentinel

"The facility has three extraction points," our guide explains as we navigate the dimly lit passages. "Teams are converging on containment level three for your companion. We'll rendezvous at extraction point two."

As we round a corner, alarms suddenly blare through the complex. Red emergency lights activate, bathing the corridor in crimson.

"They've discovered the breach," the second sympathizer says grimly. "Security protocols engaging."

"How much farther?" Trent asks, shifting to support more of my weight as my steps falter.

"Two levels down, east quadrant."

We reach a maintenance shaft with a ladder descending into darkness. As I peer over the edge, another wave of dizziness hits. The suppression compound is still heavy in my system, making coordination difficult.

"I'll go first," Trent says, reading my condition. "You follow, I'll catch you if necessary."

He descends quickly despite his injuries, moving with Sentinel efficiency. I follow more slowly, each rung requiring frustrating concentration as my body refuses to cooperate properly.

Halfway down, the facility lights flicker—main power resuming. The security systems will be back online within minutes.

"Hurry," the sympathizers urge from above.

I try to move faster, but my hand slips. For a terrifying moment, I'm falling—then strong arms catch me as Trent breaks my descent.

"I've got you," he says, his body solid against mine.

Our faces are suddenly close, his breath warm on my cheek. Even amid danger, my body responds to his proximity—heart racing, skin heating where he touches me. The memory of our kiss flashes vividly despite the suppression drugs.

No time for distractions. We continue through the lower levels, following our guides through increasingly industrial sections of the facility. The alarms continue wailing, accompanied now by announcements of security team deployments.

"Almost there," the lead sympathizer promises as we approach a heavy service door. "Extraction point is just beyond."

The door opens to reveal what appears to be a vehicle bay—small transport crafts designed for terrain navigation. Several people are already there, working quickly to prepare the vehicles.

And among them, looking bruised but very much alive, is Vex.

He spots us immediately, amber eyes fixing on me with relief so palpable it's almost physical. He crosses the bay inseconds, reaching us just as my weakened legs finally give out.

Both men catch me, their hands overlapping as they support my weight between them. For once, there's no tension in their shared purpose—just mutual concern overriding everything else.

"What did they do to her?" Vex demands, noting my condition.

"Suppression compound," Trent explains. "Heavy dose. They were experimenting with controlling her modifications."

Vex's expression darkens with fury. "Can you neutralize it?"

"Not here," the sympathizer answers. "We need to reach the safehouse first."

Security alerts intensify, warning of approaching teams.

"Load up," the extraction leader orders. "We've got two minutes maximum."

They half-carry me to the nearest transport—a rugged vehicle with reinforced exterior and what appear to be weapon mounts. As they settle me in the back section, my fuzzy brain registers the obvious question.

"How are we getting past the facility perimeter?"

The sympathizer driver grins, activating the vehicle's systems. "The fun way."

The bay doors explode outward, blown by charges placed earlier. Through the smoke and debris, our small convoy accelerates into the night, leaving Unity Research Outpost 17 in chaos behind us.

Trent and Vex position themselves protectively on either side of me as the vehicle bounces over rough terrain. Unity pursuit crafts would be launching within minutes.

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