Page 59 of Fully Loaded

Brock chuckled and wrapped the material around his elbow then pounded the edge of the glass. After a few blows, it cracked. Moving the shirt so it covered his fist, he knocked on the glass until it splintered into large pieces. A couple fell inside and landed on the floor with a crash. Wincing, he used the shirt to peel away the sharp edges and prevent the rest of the shards from falling and creating more noise.

He handed Rhett his shirt. “No alarm. We’re in.”

Rhett shook out the material then fit it back over his head. “Good. You first.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Hanging onto the frame, Brock lowered himself down. A beam of light passed through the opening over his head. Rhett passed him his phone, with the flashlight lit.

Taking it, Brock stood back and illuminated the room. Storage cabinets lined one wall and several tables and chairs stacked on top of each other lined the other. Rhett dropped to the ground and glass crunched beneath his feet. Brock wandered to one of the storage cabinets and, holding up the phone, opened the thin metal door.

The top shelf held Petri dishes of various sizes. Microscopes filled the shelf beneath it, along with a tray of individually capped scalpels. Brock grabbed two of the knives. He put one in his pocket and held the other in his free fist. It was no switchblade, but it could slice and kill just as easily. He handed Rhett back his phone.

“Good thinking,” Rhett said. “Sorry I don’t have another gun on me.”

Brock dragged the pad of his thumb down the cool steel. “This’ll do.”

Rhett led the way out of the storage room and into the hallway. Low-lit fluorescents shone from the ceiling, and Rhett stopped to switch off his flashlight and pocket the device.

A green-lit sign above a door at the end of the hall caught his eye. Brock nudged him toward the stairwell. “We’ll sweep one floor at a time, starting with the main level.”

Rhett pulled out his gun and pointed it at the ground as they moved briskly down the hall. Brock slowed when they reached the stairwell, and he peered through the glass window before inching open the door. Not a sound echoed in the cement space. He leaned further inside and looked up at the railings spiraled above each other.

“All clear.”

Rhett shoved the door open the rest of the way and followed Brock. They took the stairs two at a time to the main level.

“Do you have any idea where they’re keeping her?”

Brock flexed his forearms. Dammit, he should have had her look for another clue while they were on the phone. Dozens of rooms were tucked away in every corner of the fucking building. Finding her without drawing attention to themselves would be like searching for a needle in a haystack—every nook and cranny had to be checked.

“No. All I know is it looked like a small lab room.”

“Shit.” Rhett made a face and glanced in the window of one of the doors. “Just the cafeteria. We can keep moving.”

Creak!

The loud wail of a door opening bounced through the long corridor. Footsteps slapped against the tile floor. Brock gripped the scalpel and scanned the hallway. He fixed his gaze on the door across from the cafeteria.

Chambre Électrique

He nodded at the door and Rhett followed him.

“Hurry, they’re getting closer,” Rhett whispered.

Brock turned the knob and slipped inside with Rhett at his heels. He closed the door but left it open a slit. The footsteps grew louder. “She called him on Facebook Messenger and beat the shit out of Romy with a fire extinguisher and tied him up. She’s here somewhere.”

A smile split Brock’s mouth, and he pressed his lips together to stop the hoot of laughter from rolling off his tongue. She’d defeated an armed guard with a fire extinguisher.

That’s my girl.

Pride swelled in his chest. More than ever, his body craved to cradle her in his arms. The action could have cost her her life, and maybe later he’d scold her for it. But for now, she was away from Ubrigg’s wrath and that was all that mattered.

“I’ve been pacing the main level from corner to corner, sir. No one has entered or left the building.” A man dressed head to toe in a black security uniform stomped past the door. He carried an assault rifle across his chest, just like the shooter from the Eiffel Tower. Ubrigg’s white lab coat flapped behind him as they moved toward the stairwell Brock and Rhett had come from.

Rhett shifted at his side. “We should confront them.”

Brock held his hand in the air. “No. He’s got an assault rifle. We’ll be gunned down as soon as they see us. We’re better off doing this quietly.” He propped open the door with the toe of his boot so he’d hear if they returned.

Rhett grinned. “Look who’s being a Patient Peter now.”