Page 114 of Claimed
“Hall C. They are in the lab,” he rattles off. “Now please. I have two kids. A mortgage—”
Rolling my eyes, I sock him in the nose and he drops like a stone when I release him. I glance around. But there is no place to put him. Nowhere but …
Grabbing him by the collar, I jump between two of the trucks and ease him in the side door before climbing onto the dock. I open the back panel and peer inside.
The hallway is long and white with no security anywhere.
Leaning back out, I motion and Onyx eases along the wall. I help her onto the platform and we enter the warehouse.
Chapter 42
Onyx
The building is surprisingly bare, but considering what I know of Helios, maybe it isn’t surprising.
We go slow, scouring each hall before ever entering it, but both of us are in solid black in a building that is completely white. White walls, white floors, white ceiling, white lighting. It leaves my temples throbbing from the brightness. The sterility.
And we are like walking fucking targets.
Every corridor is separated depending on purpose it seems. There are blood bags and weaponry behind sliding glass doors with keypads and blinking lights. A whole room is dedicated to what looks like old books.
Caine takes it all in, his jaw growing tighter and tighter with every step we take.
His tension fills my body. Or maybe it’s my own. The place is crawling with guards and lab techs. And despite all of that, they have no camera systems, no security rotations.
It’s like Helios doesn’t care.
Or he doesn’t want a tech trail.
At the end of the hall, a white sign juts from the wall with a large ‘c’ engraved in the plastic. Caine grips my hand tighter and we ease up to the edge.
My heart sinks.
It’s not that Helios doesn’t care, it’s that he has all his people on the one hall we need.
Everywhere I look there are white lab coats and uniformed men with high-powered rifles. They stand in clusters outside the doors as more techs remove ampule after ampule from the cases.
The techs pull the sickly yellow fluid into thin dart style syringes that are loaded into crates of weapons set on the tall tables.
“Fuck,” Caine breathes. His crimson eyes track over the process with a keen focus. “They are weaponizing the shit.”
“How do we stop them?” I whisper.
“If the team was here, I’d say Gage and Horan could just torch the fucking place.” He squeezes my hand. “But that isn’t an option.”
He rolls back beside me, his expression dark. “Azz said bring him the cases, right? That was his exact wording?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
His jaw works. “Okay. They have guards at every door. I can jump into the room with the cases and jump back before they could probably get a shot off.”
“Probably?” I hiss, heart in my throat.
He looks down at me. “It’s the best option we have.”
“And the rest of the Brightex?” I ask. “The stuff already weaponized?”
His lean frame hugs the wall as he peers back down the corridor. When he faces me again, a smile is on his face.
