“It means either they’ve corrupted others, or someone at the top is pulling the strings.”
Neither of those sounded good. If they’d turned others, how many were there? Would there ever be a safe place?
The building appeared to be an old factory. On the first floor, though, there was only a few doors. The second and third floors held huge glass windows with many broken panes.
“How many do you think there are?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Let’s find out.”
The metal door was heavy, the screeching of the old, rust covered hinges echoed off the walls. If it wasn’t a call to anyone who was inside, I didn’t know what was. Hopefully, they just thought it was the guys outside coming back in.
“Jesus, Pete,” a voice called out. Footsteps shuffled across the floor and Six lifted his gun. “Would you stop com—“
Bullet to the eye.
He made a gurgling sound, blood streaming from his empty socket before making a thump as he crumbled onto the ground.
Bile churned in my stomach, the gruesome sight almost too much, even after everything I’d seen.
We moved through in stealth mode—no talking, quiet footsteps, and cautious moves. Three more agents were downed before we found the stairs and made our way up.
Large wood plank floors and metal I-beams that stretched two stories high filled our view. Evidence of large equipment could still be seen in ghost image outlines on the floors. Pages of newspaper floated around, piled up in corners and layered in pieces on the wood.
Such an open space, lit by huge lights that buzzed. Not all of them worked, leaving shaded spaces. In the middle was a large table and some chairs, even a couch. Computers lined the table, and sitting in front of them was Nine and One.
“You found us,” Nine’s voiced boomed out. He didn’t even look our way.
There must have been cameras outside.
Six pointed his gun straight at One, but before he could fire, there was someone beside us, his sights on me.
“You didn’t think we wouldn’t be prepared, did you?” One asked, her lips twitched up into her bitch smirk.
Six’s jaw clenched. There was only one of the stray we didn’t find, or so it seemed.
“You can go,” Nine said to the man beside me, sending his goon away.
“Can’t watch your own back?” Six asked. “Or have you gotten that lazy?”
“You’re alive,” Nine said, his expression blank. “I wasn’t expecting that after your ocean dive to save your pet.”
“You of all people should know I don’t die that easily.”
Nine’s gaze hardened. “No, you always have had a way of avoiding death. It’s almost as if you’re a cat.” Nine’s arm rose, his gun aimed at Six. “Let’s see if you’ve reached your ninth life.”
“After everything, you want to end it that way?”
Nine’s lip twitched. “What do you have in mind?”
“You and me. Let’s finish the fight we started decades ago.” Six held out his gun and let it drop to the floor.
Nine followed, setting his own gun on the ground. “Fine by me. You need a reminder who’s better before I kill you.”
Six dug his feet in and ran full speed, knocking his shoulder into Nine’s stomach, forcing him back. Nine beat on Six’s back, trying to get him to let go. When he did, a dance of fighting artistry began. Blocked punches, avoided kicks, all making a fairly even match.
Nine struck the first blow, whipping Six’s head around.
My chest clenched watching the two of them brawl. A fight to the death where the winner would determine my own fate.
Six promised me a bullet to the head, but I had a feeling Nine and One might make me suffer.
When I looked back to One, she wasn’t watching them. She was smiling at me, and in her hand was the weapon that killed all four Cleaners and Jason.
A .45 caliber gun.
One held it high, her aim on my head. “Time to finally end you, little toy.”
I didn’t flinch. It wasn’t the first barrel I’d stared down, and it wasn’t going to be the last.
But still, she had the drop on me. I’d been preoccupied watching them fight, not paying attention to the twatwaffle bitchapotomous.
Life wasn’t supposed to end this way, and it wasn’t going to. Not by her hand.
Six was too far away, his fight with Nine still going strong with no clear sign of a winner. Perhaps my naiveté was in believing he could come out of anything and would always be there to save me until the day he ended me himself.
Anticipating her firing, I dove toward the ground, pulling out the gun Six had slipped into the back of my jeans. Both of our shots rang out at the same time.
The bullet grazed my arm and exploding pain fried my brain, but my gaze stayed focused across the room on One. I landed hard, but forced myself to get right back up. I pushed up from the floor and walked over to her, gun still in hand.