Page 64 of Avenging Jessie
Brewer’s smile widened, predator amused at prey. “You think you’re in time? Oh, Spence. You should know better than anyone—the Cyclones don’t wait around for permission.”
A cold weight dropped in Spence’s gut. “What do you mean?”
“They lifted twenty minutes ago. Low and quiet in stealth mode and headed for Langley as we speak. By the time you two figure out how to work that console, they’ll be circling like sharks over your precious Agency.” Brewer tipped his head, mock thoughtful. “But I’m not without hospitality. I kept a few toys here. Wouldn’t want my guests to get bored.”
As if on cue, a high-pitched whir spun up above the din. Spence’s heart lurched as two Cyclones swept from the shadows of the rafters, payload cylinders gleaming under the work lights.
Jessie muttered, “Son of a?—”
“I’d better run along,” Brewer said, stepping back into the dark as his men raised their rifles. “I’ve got the best seat in the house to watch you both die.”
Twenty-Five
Jessie
The high-pitched whirhit her ears a split second before the shadow dropped from the rafters. Two Cyclones swept into view, cylinders gleaming like loaded revolvers under the work lights.
Jessie’s brain shifted into overdrive. They couldn’t outgun both the drones and Brewer’s men in the open. Spence needed to get to that control hub—the only shot they had at stopping the rest now on their way to Langley — and she needed to buy him that time.
She glanced at the catwalk ladders and the narrow gaps between the crates, mapping them in her head. Cover, height, distraction. There. That’s where she’d station herself. She leaned toward Spence. “Go for the hub. I’ll keep him busy.”
His jaw flexed, eyes locking on hers. “Jess?—”
“Do it,” she cut in, already moving toward a stack of crates to draw fire. “You’re the only one who can shut them down.”
The drones’ rotors screamed to life. Brewer stepped back into the dark, his voice floating after him. “Better hurry. Clock’s ticking.”
The drones split in the air, one veering high toward the control room windows, the other dipping low to lock onto her. Jessie swore under her breath. Brewer was covering both of them.
“Spence!” She ducked as the lower drone’s microdarts chewed into the crate edge. “Incoming!”
“Working on it!” His voice came from behind the reinforced glass, the frantic clacking of keys a counterpoint to the rising pitch of the drones.
She pivoted around the crate, fired a double tap at the low drone, and managed to nick a rotor arm. The thing wobbled but stayed airborne. “Brewer’s in the wind! I can’t find him.”
The high drone scraped across the control room glass, metallic claws sparking as it tried to chew through the pane. “I’ve got the port open,” he called. “I just need thirty seconds.”
Thirty seconds in a firefight might as well be thirty years.
Movement flickered in her periphery.Gotcha.
Brewer was on the catwalk, closing in on the control room with a compact SMG slung at his side. His smile was tight and cold, eyes fixed on Spence’s back.
Not happening.
Jessie popped up and fired at Brewer. He jerked aside, the round grazing the rail instead of his ribs, but it forced him into cover.
The low drone banked again, payload cylinder clicking into thermal charge position. Her stomach clenched. If it fired that in here, half the warehouse would light up like a tinderbox.
But her next thought calmed her worry. Brewer would never do that to his own warehouse. It was just for show, and she knew it.
“Jessie, down!” Spence barked.
On reflex, she dropped as he triggered something on his end. The drone above her seized midair, rotors shrieking, then crashed to the floor in a shower of sparks.
Yes! One down.
Brewer was moving again, using the distraction to close the gap. The second drone had switched to EMP mode and slammed against the control room window. Brewer needed to cut power to Spence’s console before the upload finished.
