by Justin Bell
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Agent Grace tried to control the chaos spilling over around him. As nameless agents ran by him, Director McKie made specific instructions, guiding people to station while Agent Grace coordinated agents in the field.
"Grace, this is Sniper Six, he is on the move! Subject is on the move!"
"Where to?" barked Grace into the phone.
"He has cleared the lobby and is moving towards the stairwell. Those poor bastards never knew what hit them."
"Okay, I've got the message. Will coordinate on this end. Spread out; try to get some vantage point on the third floor. I guarantee he's coming straight for us."
Hanging up the phone, he motioned towards Ryan Sandidge who was huddled by the door to the hallway, looking out, weapon in hand.
"What do you need, Grace?" he asked, walking over.
"He's in the stairwell. All weapons trained on that door and ready to go."
"Should we deploy into the stairwell itself?"
Grace nodded. "Yeah, I'll pass the word to McKie. He can choose which agents to send to their deaths. Meanwhile, grab your best guys and keep them up here ready to go. You're going to be the last line of defense."
Sandidge nodded and left the office, while Agent Grace glanced down at the half-open drawer of his desk with the syringe and vials inside. He picked up one of the slender vials and moved it around between his fingers, looking at the distorted reflection of his eyes in the rippling liquid.
"Well, not quite the last line."