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After a minute of full-out sprinting, her lean frame leaps over a hedge of shrubs and she lands on the main road, School Drive.
I’m right on her heels.
To our left is the mansion on the hill, which seems to have every light on. In the distance, I spot the gatehouse at the main campus entrance. The same place I came through a few hours ago, but now it’s on fire.
Stones and rubble are strewn across the entrance, blocking it. One guard is helping another one hobble away from the destruction, as a third yells into a two-way radio. A fourth is outside the gate, beyond the scattered stones, weapon drawn, scanning for approaching danger.
A thought occurs to me. I pick up my speed, catch up to Justice, bend to her ear. “Nix the warning system. It’s too loud. If there are more drones, we won’t be able to hear them.”
Eyes wide and worried, she pulls to a stop, takes out her phone, and punches in a number. “Security. Turn off the alarm. We believe there could be more drones—”
Boom! An explosion in the distance lights up an area between two buildings.
We crouch down just as another blast, even further away, sends fire and debris shooting into the sky.
Sprinting over rubble, I get the attention of security personnel. “Can you light this place up? Turn on every light, floodlight, you have?”
I expect confrontation or dismissal but get neither.
With a nod, she speaks into a two-way, relaying the information. Being with Justice must be proof enough of my intentions or maybe the woman simply recognizes a good point when she hears it.
In seconds, lights began to go on all over the school, even lights inside classrooms and all along the walk. Despite everything, I’m impressed. They’re seriously linked up here. The warning system goes silent.
I see it before I hear it, framed by the fires behind it. “There, there, there.” I point at the sky, turn the guard by the shoulders, so she can see, but she shakes her head uncomprehendingly.
Justice springs up to us. “I see it.”
Quick as a flash, she removes the guard’s sidearm, aims, points, and fires repeatedly.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
The drone explodes in the air. Fiery fragments rain down and slam into the ground. Pieces scatter in all directions across the road leading up to the Mantua Home.
The guard looks over at her, skims Justice and her gown. “You hit a drone from the sky at night in a ballgown.”
The guard and Justice stare at each other, because this is obviously something that a Parish Princess is not known for being able to do.
Not getting her point, Justice shrugs. “I’m keeping your gun.” She turns to me. “We need to get organized. You’re going to have to leave.”
Nope. I don’t see a bulldozer on her, and that’s the only way she’s getting me out of here.
40
JUSTICE
Balling my hands to keep from shoving Sandesh over the rubble, through the gate, and off the property, I repeat, “You need to leave. Go now. Get out of here.”
Sandesh’s entire demeanor changes from ex-soldier taking control to ex-soldier digging in his heels. “You want me to leave? Now? In the middle of this? No. Hell no.”
“I have to find out what’s going on. I need to… And the police. Sandesh, this is the last thing the IPT needs to be connected to.”
He grabs my hand. “You’re not thinking.” He draws closer, whisper-close. “My truck is here. I signed in. There are cameras all over, video of us going into the woods, us running, and you shooting a drone. Think. We need to tone this down. Meaning, you can’t run around with a gun right now. You’re panicking. Think, Justice. Let the security here do its job.”
He steps back and nods to the security guard watching us with interest.
Shit. He’s right. External Security, unlike Internal, knows nothing about The Guild or my training. They protect the school and the campus, not the main house. I let out a breath. The cops are coming. Probably the FBI. All the camera footage will be looked at. Some of it damning me. I look around.
Two other guards stare at us. I fucked up. Shot the drone from the sky. I can cover that. Tell the cops that my Special Forces boyfriend taught me to shoot.
