“Two tangos,” he whispers over the comms. “Patrol. North fence.”
“Take them,” Hutch issues the kill order.
Pfft. Pfft.
Two soft coughs from Wraith’s rifle.
Down the hill, two heat signatures drop into the snow.
“Clear.”
We move to the intake shaft. It’s a massive concrete throat sticking out of the ground, covered by a rusted grate.
Bronco moves to the grate, pulling a set of bolt cutters from his pack.Snap. Snap.The lock falls.
He heaves the iron cover open.
Blackness yawns below us. The smell of stale air and rust drifts up.
“It’s a straight drop.” Bronco shines a red light down. “Fifty feet. Then a transition to a catwalk.”
“I’m first.”
Hutch grabs my arm.
“Boyd. You’re compromised. If you freeze up down there.”
“I won’t.”
I look at him.
“She’s mine, Hutch. I go first.”
He holds my gaze for a second. Then he nods.
“Don’t miss.”
I hook my rappel line to the frame, step over the edge, and drop into the dark. Darkness blurs past me. I hit the catwalk with a soft thud. I unclip and raise my rifle.
“Clear.”
One by one, the team drops behind me.
We push inside, moving along the catwalk. Below us, the processing floor is quiet. A few guards patrol the trucks.
Cipher’s voice buzzes in my ear.
“Boyd. Movement in the command office. Mercer is moving. He’s heading toward the catwalks.”
“Toward Iris?”
“Affirmative. And Boyd, the timer she set? It just hit zero.”
My heart stops.
“What happens at zero?”
“I don’t know.”
