I point my gun behind me, keeping my head on a swivel for anyone that might be coming at us from the other direction. It feels weird to be so out of the loop on a mission. I literally have no idea what’s going on. All I can do is trust Lacee, which feels hard since I just learned she’s been lying to meandsince she just told me that she thought I was the CIA mole trying to sell the chemical weapons.
I. Have. So. Many. Questions.
But now isn’t the time to ask them.
We come to another T in the hallway, and Lacee stops. Voices carry to us—there are maybe two or three men. We should easily be able to overtake them. The element of surprise will work in our favor. Although, we can’t use our guns unless we want everyone else in the building to know that we’re here. Lacee peeks her head around the corner, then pulls back. She lifts up six fingers.
SIX! There aresixmen waiting for us around the corner.
Crap.
I’m not worried about myself. I’m worried about Lacee. Can she really handle being outnumbered like this? She’s only ever been a field support officer. I can’t let anything happen to her.
She hands me a pair of smoke goggles from out of her backpack. How many things does she have in there? It’s like a new version of her Mary Poppins purse—the spy version.
She motions with her fingers the plan. She’s going to throw a smoke bomb, shutting down visibility—except for us with our goggles. Then it’s going to be hand-to-hand combat. I’ll take five of them. It’s decided. I mean, I didn’t tell her that. I just decided on my own.
Right as I’m rallying my inner troops, Lacee throws the smoke bomb down the hall, blanketing everything with a thick cloud. The men start yelling and coughing, and without warning, Lacee rushes toward them, leaving me in her dust.
I come around the corner as she kicks a man in the stomach, knocking him to the wall. Then she does a roundhouse kick to another guy. The poor dude doesn’t even see it coming. But I did. These goggles give me an HD resolution of her fight scene, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. She takes on the next two guys at the same time with a sequence of karate punches and hits, quickly overtaking them both—it’s clear that Lacee’s received every belt possible in martial arts. She moves on to the next man doing some cartwheel thing that lands her on his shoulders with her legs wrapped around his neck. I feel like I’m watching Ruby Roundhouse fromJumanjifight off a dozen men all on her own. Even her red hair fits the part. If only Lacee had on a crop shirt and tiny shorts.
“Park?” she calls. “Are you going to help?”
Stop fantasizing! Fight like a man!
The smoke’s clearing, and the sixth man sees Lacee on his friend’s shoulders. He raises his gun and points it at her. That’s when I kick it into gear and hit the gun out of his hand. We fight back and forth until he falls to the ground just as Lacee’s guy drops unconscious.
We stand there for a second, surveying the bodies below us.
“Really?” Her expression turns barbed. “You left me with five men while you tookone?”
That’s not how it was supposed to happen.
I guess there’s no need to worry about if Lacee is up to the task of being a field operative.
“Have you seen yourself?” My mouth gapes open. “You’re amazing!”
She bites back her smile, acting like my compliment doesn’t faze her. “Come on, let’s find the lab. That’s where Nicholas will be.” She steps over the bodies, moving forward with her gun extended.
“Like seriously,” I whisper, following. “I’ve seen women fight before, but not like that. You’re like a super hot ninja woman. I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life.”
“Shut it down, Park. This really isn’t the time to be turned on,” she says over her shoulder. I can’t see her full face, just the corner of her smirk, and it spins my whole world upside down.
“Right.” I nod. “I’m totally focused.”
There’s her cute smirk again.
She pokes her head around the corner, assessing the situation. “It’s clear.” She moves forward again, gesturing to a metal door as we pass. “That stairwell will lead us downstairs to the lab. Once we take care of Nicholas, we’ll escape back up this way.”
We quiet our voices, slowly walking down the stairs to the edge of the wall. Lacee sticks her head out and then holds up the number two—man-to-man defense. I’m going to be an active participant this time around. She’ll see.
Lacee sticks her gun in the back of her pants and reaches inside her backpack, pulling out a red sweatshirt that saysHave Yourself a Merry Little Christmason the front of it. She tugs it over her head. Then she hands me the bag. “Hold this.”
“Where are you going?” I mouth to her.
She signals that she’s got things under control. Before I can stop her, she disappears around the corner, casually walking toward the two men. I press my back against the wall, waiting, listening for when she might need my help.
“Miss Warren?” one of the men speaks up. I wish I knew which one or what was happening, but I can’t risk looking around the corner and being seen.
