“Got jumped by two of them after the mess hall.” He grimaced, shifted his weight. “Took one down. The other one got me with a knife before I could run.”
He’d packed the wound with a rag from his sleeve, but it was already soaked through.
She should leave him. But she wasn’t built to walk past her own people, and Max had saved her life once already, giving her the chance to stop all of this.
“Can you crawl?” she asked.
Max blinked. “Crawl?”
“You’re coming with me.” She stood, offered her hand, and grabbed the stepladder and dragged it under the vent access. God, she was so done with crawling through tiny spaces.
He stared up at the vent. “Seriously?”
“We have to get to the armory for explosives. We’re dropping the crane.”
Max grinned. “Now you’re talking.”
She pulled him upright. He swayed, and his skin blanched, but he stayed on his feet.
“They’re moving people,” he said. “Hostages. Heard them passing by not long ago. Orders being shouted. Something about the crane deck.”
Jen’s stomach dropped. “How many?”
“Lots, by the sound of it.” Max took a careful breath.
Bile soured her mouth. Everything they’d planned—the twenty-minute window, the rendezvous, the careful approach—all of it just compressed into nothing.
Hostages near the crane meant human shields.
She needed to get back.Now.
But first she needed those charges. She climbed up the ladder, removed the vent cover with her multi tool. This was becoming a habit. “Can you do this?”
Max gave a wry smile. “Try and stop me.”
Jen crawled as fast as she dared, knees now bruised from the cold metal, mindful of noise. Max’s breathing labored behind her, but every time she glanced back, he was there, face shining with sweat, mouth set in a determined grimace.
Finally, she was above the vent close to the armory.
She eased the panel open and dropped down.
Max followed with a grunt. “Fuck, I’m too old for this.”
She looped an arm around his waist. “You’re doing just fine.”
The armory door was scorched but secure. She palmed the door, seeing soot on her fingertips. They’d tried to blast it, then given up.
She pressed her palm to the scanner.
The lock beeped. Green light. The door unsealed with a pneumatic hiss.
Thank God.
She hadn’t been sure her access would still work. They slipped inside, emergency lighting casting long shadows. Max leaned against the wall near the open door to keep watch. His face was pale, but his eyes were sharp.
Jen moved to the back corner where the red locker was located, emblazoned with warning labels.
AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY - DEMOLITION MATERIALS.
