MATCH CITY
Page 17
My own wrist starts going crazy, and I see something I’ve never seen before. My tracker turns bright red. It would be mine when I finally see red.
The elevators open to the 26th floor, a large room filled with Officers. Desks and Chairs cover the closest half of the room, to the far end, I see viewing screens and a glass wall shielding the high-profile holding-cells.
Those closest begin to notice a woman in white carrying weapons. An Officer shouts in the distance, but I’m already moving. My boot finds the closest chair to use as leverage. I flow through the air and land hard, knees slightly bent, on a desktop. I have their attention now.
The men drawing their weapons get taken down first, followed by the next bold Pax Officers clawing for their guns. Dancing across the desks, I have full visual of the room, making the shots easy and precise. The regular shift of my arms, across my chest then back, occurs naturally as I unload with perfect aim.
When real shots begin ringing in my ear and whirring past my head, I leap sideways through the air and hit four more Officers in the neck, arms, and chest, before hitting the wall hard.
Tipping a large desk sideways, I use it for cover. I know where the last 12 are, so crouching low, I make my way over and between desks picking them off stealthily, one by one. The fear consuming the men has wild and blind shots whirring uselessly through the air, giving me easy access to their positions. Just two Pax Officers remain.
An attractive man with dark hair stands up; it’s a guy named Charlie Halton. We were in Sniper school together. Noticeably terrified and confused, he holds his gun up as we both freeze.
“Freya? What are you doing?” His eyes scan the room frenziedly before he realizes they should remain on me. “I need you to open holding-cell twenty,” I say unconcernedly, friend to friend. He’s trembling.
“You know I can’t do that,” he says. “I’ve made it through every door this far. I’m going to get in, with or without your help. But you can make this easier on you.”
A blonde Pax Officer that has been hiding behind a desk tries to take a shot at me, but I stick a dart in him with my right weapon before he manages to get an inch of his head raised above the wooden desk-top.
My left gun stays focused on Charlie’s face. His expression tells me he’s going to cooperate. He shakily uses his bracelet to raise the glass doors to the cells. “Hurry,” I say, remaining levelheaded, but speaking with urgency. Rushing, he opens the door to compartment twenty.
“Sorry,” I say before shooting a tranquilizer into his leg. He drops to the floor and my arms rest by my sides as I enter the room to get what I came for.
Apollo is standing in the middle of the room, probably upon hearing the commotion. His muscular frame relaxes when he sees me strut through the door. A beautiful bright smile spreads across his face.
“Hi, Baby,” I say, reaching into my pocket, I toss him his antidote which he catches right-side up. “I took it from the hover-craft last Saevas breech,” I say in response to his confounded expression. His blue eyes gleam with love and understanding, but something else—determination.
He smiles again before speaking.
“What took you so long?”