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“Going to Nick.” I climb faster, passing the next level.
“Do you know where—?”
“I’ll find him,” I snap. He better not tell me to leave him, because that is not an option. That is never an option.
I hear voices as I reach the top, and carefully peek over the concrete barrier. Three men are grouped together. As I watch, one of them kicks something on the floor. Nick. I hear his groan in my ear.
I slip over the edge and land silently on the floor with my stunner bar in my hand.
They don’t see me coming but they sure notice when I get there.
The first one gets a smack of my bar at the back of the head and drops without a word. The second one has a moment to ready himself before I take him out at the knees. A sharp kick to the jaw sends him down, and I give him a jolt of electricity to keep him there.
The third one pulls out his gun.
It’s not that I can dodge bullets, but I do manage to get out of the way using a fun little move that has me running two steps, jumping up and kicking off the wall so I land on the other side of him.
He’s still shooting as he whirls around. There’s no time for me to grab my own gun and shoot him, à la Indiana Jones, but at least the stunner bar smacked against his wrist slows him down. A kick in the stomach winds him, and I manage to wrestle the gun from his grip.
I hit him in the head with it.
All three are down but won’t be for long.
Nick is already on his hands and knees and I grab his arm to haul him to his feet. “Gotta go,” I tell him, breathing heavily. “Can you run?”
“No choice,” he groans, draping his arm around my shoulder. I wrap an arm around his waist and try not to buckle under Nick’s weight as we run-shuffle to the exit.
“Thirty seconds,” Ham says, his voice tight.
“Door is right ahead.”
We don’t make it before the first charge goes off. The floor shifts, and with a loud pop, a crack appears behind us.
“Charlotte, get him out!”
We make it to the door as the second charge goes off and part of the wall crashes into the space below. An alarm sounds and there are people shouting, and then we’re out, the cold air hitting me like a slap.
Chapter Seven
“What’s plan B?” Nick has lost all colour in his face and his eyes are unfocused. I suspect a blow to the head has left him concussed, and the way he’s limping suggests a leg wound, so running out of here isn’t an option. Not that I can support him much longer.
“That truck,” I decide, leading him to the panel truck haphazardly parked off to the side like someone had run in for only a moment to get out of the storm.
Because Ham’s predicted storm has arrived with a vengeance. The wind threatens to pull the thin toque from my head and the fluffy flakes that had been floating gently when we entered are now needle-like ice pellets.
We can’t hear the charges over the wind, but the noise of our sabotage is evident. Any minute, whoever is left in the building is going to run out and see us hobbling away. But no one emerges as I push Nick into the truck. It only takes me a moment to touch the right wires together and the engine roars to life.
I put the truck in gear as a few people burst out. I don’t get much of a look at them as I pull away.
“This might work with the storm,” Nick says. “Can you see where you’re going?”
When I glance over, Nick is already lying back against the seat with his eyes closed. I notice the blood dripping from his head. “What happened?”
“Don’t know. Something whacked me. Maybe one of the guards.”
“There were three of them.”
“Yeah.” He grunts with a hand pressed against his side. “I think I broke a rib. You okay?”
