Behind us, voices shouted. Flashlight beams cut through darkness. They were following.
“How far?” I asked.
“Two hundred meters. Maybe less.”
A guard appeared at the entrance we'd come through. Raised his rifle. Sebastian shot him through the throat without breaking stride. The man fell into the water. Floated past us.
Two more guards appeared. Both fired. Bullets sparked off concrete. We dove under the water. Came up behind a support column. I returned fire. Dropped one. Sebastian's arrow found the other.
“Contact ahead,” Noah's voice crackled through the waterlogged comm. “Three hostiles at the exit point.”
“Of course there are,” Sebastian muttered.
We reached the exit. Chain-link fence blocked it. Beyond, the Thames churned black and cold. Three guards waited on the other side, weapons raised.
Sebastian nocked an arrow. “On three. You take left. I take center and right.”
“That is two targets for you.”
“I'm good with multitasking.” His grin was feral. Wild. “One.”
I raised my pistol.
“Two.”
The guards tensed. Fingers on triggers.
“Three.”
We moved together. I shot left. Double tap. The man dropped. Sebastian released his first arrow, caught center guard through the eye, nocked a second arrow before the first man fell, and put it through the third guard's throat.
All three down in under two seconds.
“Show off,” I said.
“You're welcome.”
We climbed through the fence. Emerged onto a muddy bank. Rain hammered down. The city sprawled ahead, all lights and sirens and the promise of temporary safety.
“Noah,” Sebastian said into the comm. “We're clear. Files uploaded?”
“Already decrypting. This is good work. Really good. Financial records going back eighteen months. Communication logs.Everything we need.” A pause. “Head to the safehouse. Greenwich. I'll have preliminary analysis done by the time you arrive.”
“Copy.”
The bike was four blocks away. We ran through rain-soaked streets, staying to alleys, avoiding cameras. My lungs burned. Shoulder screamed. Didn't matter. We had the data. Had the proof.
Had each other.
We reached the bike. Sebastian threw his leg over, started the engine. I climbed on behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist. Held on.
He drove fast. Reckless. Like the devil was chasing us. Maybe he was.
24
THE HOLLOW CALM
VIKTOR
