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“Come on, Alantara. It’s just like old times. You and me, saving the world from corporate greed. Wreaking havoc on corrupt institutions and playing Robin Hood. The greater good, right?” Patrick’s smile she’d once compared to a charming politician made her physically disgusted. How had she trusted this man?
She looked at Cole again, trying to send him a message with her eyes. Could he still hear the team? Did he know they were coming?
Ninety-eight percent. Her fingers itched, planning the keystrokes she needed to cancel the process.
“We’re at the door. Breaching in three, two…”
The door to the server room crashed open. Patrick shouted behind her, and gunshots exploded in the tiny room like bombs in a warzone. Joey ignored the blast of pain in her ears and the urge to duck for cover. Forcing her fingers to skate across the keyboard to cancel the process.
Ninety-nine percent.
There were shouts behind her. “Get on the ground!”
The program prompted her to confirm the abort command, and she hit the keys hurriedly, a desperate prayer escaping her lips, hoping she wasn’t too late.
The screen froze and she looked behind her. Cole was still slumped on the ground, his eyes closed. She looked back at the screen. There was nothing left to do here. Either she’d done it in time, or she hadn’t.
Jackson and Ryder stood over Patrick, two guns pointed at his head, while Connor zip-tied his hands together.
She ran to Cole’s side, cupping his face in her hands. His skin was clammy and his eyes glassy when he finally opened them to look at her. “You did it,” he said through a weak smile.
“You know I’m right, Joey! You can’t trust these animals. They only want your talent! We could do great things together, Alantara!”
“Anybody got some duct tape for his mouth?” Cole’s raspy request made her laugh with relief and empathy. Cole was hurt badly. But he was still present.
“Shhh,” she said, “just hang on. We’re going to get you out of here, okay, love?”
His lip twitched. “Love?”
A tear fell from her cheek, landing on her fingers. She nodded and sniffed back the hot tears and runny nose.
“Come on, lovebirds. Let’s get Kensington to a hospital.”
“There’s a helicopter on the roof,” he offered with a wheeze. Joey perked up. Yes, a helicopter! Fast was good, especially with the amount of blood that seemed to be soaking through Cole’s bright-white shirt.
“Is there a pilot?” Raven asked.
Cole shook his head with a wince. “I was hoping you had one of those.”
As Raven directed the team and they helped Cole up, Joey stepped back to the computer to see what had happened with Patrick’s apocalypse program she’d so desperately tried to stop. Her eyes widened at the message on the screen.
* * *
The ride to the hospital was torturous, every bump and jostle sending searing pain through his side. “All those movies where the hero chases a car or has a fight scene after being shot are completely full of it,” he moaned.
Raven chuckled. “True. Anyone who’s been shot can tell you that.” His friend glanced back at him from the front seat. “Welcome to the club, I guess.”
Cole groaned as they hit another pothole. Joey’s hand found his with a comforting squeeze.
“Relax, Cole. You need to rest.”
Cole knew she was right. The trip from server room to elevator to lobby doors had nearly done him in. The fatigue was harder to fight by the second. His eyes were heavy and the blissful, pain-free call of sleep dragged him under.
When he woke, he felt Joey’s hand in his. There was a comforting pressure around his ribcage and a rather irritating beeping noise every so often, keeping him from slipping back into sleep this time.
He opened his eyes, found Joey asleep, hunched over the side of his bed, her head resting against his leg. He studied her features, though they were partially covered by her dark hair.
He shifted, trying to create more room for her. Ah, there it was. The pain cut through the fog of sleep and what he assumed were fairly strong pain meds.
