“What about Michaels and Vanderpol?” Zack asked, referring to the undercover agents MIDNIGHT had sent to the prison with him. “Are you going to kill them, too?”
“They’re in holding cells in the receiving area.” Shaw grimaced. “You see, we’re going to cover this up with a prison riot, Zack. Burn the bodies and the evidence. Truck the RZ-902 into Canada. And let the prisoners take care of the rest.”
“Pretty clever for a psychopath.” Zack watched him walk to the desk and pick up the set of handcuffs the security personnel had left behind.
“I think I’ll just put these on you until they come back for you,” Shaw said.
“I’m not going to do squat,” Zack said, purposefully making his voice sound even weaker. “I’m bleeding out. Why don’t you just sit back and enjoy the show?”
Shaw smiled, but his expression remained bitter. “Maybe I will. After I cuff you.” He walked over to Zack and squatted. “Turn over on your stomach and give me your hands.”
“Okay, just…” Zack groaned, let his voice trail. “Give me a minute, will you?”
“Not a chance.” Roughly, enjoying Zack’s pain a little too much, Shaw forced him onto his stomach.
Zack used the momentum to roll. Before Shaw could respond, Zack brought up both legs and plowed his feet into the other man’s chest. Shaw reeled backward. Zack leaped to his feet. Dizziness stole through him, but he quickly shook it off. Before Shaw could rise, Zack landed another kick to the other man’s chin. Shaw’s head snapped back. Another punch to his jaw sent him sprawling to the floor. Snatching up the handcuffs, Zack closed one end around Shaw’s wrist, the other end to the file cabinet drawer pull.
“That ought to keep you for a while,” Zack muttered as he started toward the door.
Hatred seethed in the other man’s eyes. “You’ll never get out of here alive.”
“Maybe not,” he said, “but at least I’ll have my soul.”
Chapter Eighteen
Emily tried every self-defense tactic she’d learned in the course of her training, but she was no match for the two large men dragging her toward the gurney.
“Get her onto the gurney!” Marcus Underwood ordered from his position near the door. “Strap her in.”
Strong arms wrapped around her forearms from behind. Another set of arms closed around her calves. Emily twisted and tried to lash out with her feet, but the two men were well trained and amazingly strong. The next thing she knew, she was being lifted and placed on the gurney.
“Help me!” She screamed as one of the men began securing the straps. Thick nylon restraints were stretched taut over her legs. Two over her torso. Another around her neck. Two more for each arm. She was totally immobilized.
She didn’t want to think about what would happen next.
Marcus Underwood looked down at her and shook his head. “You should have minded your own business, Emily.”
“Don’t do this, Marcus,” she pleaded. “It’s not too late to stop this.”
The other man’s expression was strained. But there was no comfort in knowing he wasn’t enjoying this. “Wheel her into the testing chamber,” he said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Emily threw her head back and screamed. She cried out Zack’s name as one of the men pushed the gurney into a stark, windowless room tiled from ceiling to floor. The sandy-haired man kicked down the brake on the gurney so it would stand in place. Then he left the room.
Emily stared up at the ceiling. She could feel the panic pulsing inside her. A scream building in her chest. Tears stung her eyes when she thought of Zack. He’d been shot. Trying to save her. Oh, please, God, let him be all right….
“That will be all,” she heard Underwood say. Then he was standing over her. Terror spread through her when she saw the tiny vial in his hand. “Do you want me to explain to you what’s going to happen?” he asked.
“I want you to let me go.”
He pursed his lips. “I’m going to leave this vial in the room with you. The waxy outer core will begin to melt when the room temperature reaches eighty degrees. It will take the wax approximately four minutes to melt. Once that happens, two billion particles of RZ-902 will be released into the air. Within seconds you will ingest enough into your lungs to shut down your central nervous system. Your mucous membranes will bleed. There will be some skin irritation. Headache. Abdominal pain.”
“Don’t do this.” Emily panted with fear.
“I don’t have a choice.” He dropped his gaze, then crossed the room to a small tiled table and set down the vial. “I’m sorry, Emily,” he said. “I’m very, very sorry.”
“No!” she screamed. “You can’t do this!”
The door slammed. The lock turned.
“Oh, God. Oh, God!” She struggled against the straps binding her, her body bucking, but her efforts were futile. She thought about Zack and her heart broke.
“Please be all right,” she choked. “Help me.”