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Louis moves over and picks up his badge. “Lead Scientist Tyrion. Are you in charge?”
“Only of the labs,” he murmurs, shooting us worried looks. “You are them, aren’t you?”
“Them who?” Louis asks.
“The children. The first experiments. His legacy. We heard you had been sweeping labs, and we were on lockdown. You are magnificent,” he whispers, “just like he said.”
“Oh, looks like we’re famous.” Louis turns to us with an arched brow as we all laugh humourlessly. “Then I guess you know what comes next,” he tells the man.
“Please.” The first sign of fear breaks through his facade, his voice warbling. “It’s just a job.”
“Not to us,” I spit, stepping to Louis’s side. “Not to those dead soldiers out there or the countless dead children.”
“I had nothing to do with you or the other kids!” he yells. “I swear, I was only brought on a few months ago before your father died. I didn’t even know what it entailed until I took the position, and it was too late.”
“Lies,” I sneer.
“Please,” he begs, holding his hands up as tears well in his eyes. “I was only following orders.”
“You all were,” I scoff. “History is filled with men and women simply following orders and committing horrendous crimes. You made your choice. You did this, and now you should suffer the consequences.”
“Please, I have a family,” he babbles. “I did it for them. I never wanted to, please. You’ll never hear from me again.”
Dropping the gun, I jerk my chin at him. “Get out of here, and if I see your face again, you’re dead.”
I show him the mercy that was never shown to us, and I hope I am right in doing so.
“Nova?” Louis asks.
“Leave him. He’s not worth it.” I whirl and leave the labs, heading to the stairs at the very end of the hall.
Hopefully, we’ll find the man in charge because I have some things I’d like to discuss with him.
FIFTY-NINE
The stairs have a closed, locked door that D opens for us.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. It feels wrong to be doing this without him, but then again, he’s right there, in our ears, watching us.
We surge up the stairs, knowing that with each second that passes, they could escape.
This might have started with my father, but it will end here with this man—the one tugging at a door as we rush into an ornate office. There are bookshelves to the left filled with pictures of him and military commanders, and even a fucking president. There is a sofa to the left, and a huge desk taking up the back placed in front of some windows. Beyond is a plane gearing up to depart.
The man tries to escape through the locked fire door as he glances back at us with purpose and hatred.
He’s not what I was expecting, but then again, I guess the bad guys never are. After all, he’s just a man. Just a fucking man. Nothing more.
He’s middle-aged and moderately attractive, with salt and pepper hair. His face is angular, with bright blue eyes, and his body is encased in an expensive three-piece suit. He’s neither tall nor short, fat nor slim.
He would be forgettable if it weren’t for the shark-like smile he aims at us when he swings the door open. “He’s making a run for it!” I yell and sprint across the office to see him leaping into the plane.
We have to roll when he looks back and pulls out a pistol, aiming badly, but it keeps us down as the plane starts to lift.
“Shit! He can’t get away!” Louis roars.
Putting my gun away, I throw him a narrow-eyed look. “Then let’s stop him.” Without waiting for his approval, I push into a sprint, aiming for the plane.
We can’t let him get away.
