“The pain will end soon,” Sierra said. Then she was gone from sight.
That thought wasn’t reassuring. Pain was good. It meant Jess was still alive. Where were the cops and ambulance?
Explosions rocked the night. Twin fireballs burst from the Mack trucks, painting the darkness red and orange. Heat licked her face but failed to warm her body.
She was so cold. Bile flooded her mouth. A growing numbness crept up her side as fear choked her, twisting her heart.
Still no sirens. Hope fled. The bloodcurdling realization sank in that she was going to die on this godforsaken road…all because someone wanted to steal the deadliest biotech ever created.
* * *
Washington, DC
Friday, October 4, 6:10 p.m. EDT
Katherine “Kit” Westcott slowed from her power walk down busy First Street, cursing the human parasite who was the bane of her existence. A brisk stroll from the loft while stewing over Jasper Ives had her heart literally seizing.
Kit passed the Mediterranean Grill that was pumping Greek music from the outdoor speakers. She stopped at the narrow entrance to the passageway running between the restaurant and the Lair, the building she leased in the edgy NoMa—north of Massachusetts Avenue—area for her hacker group, the Outliers.
Wheezing, she rested against the brick wall and fished her meds out from her messenger bag. Tan bottles rattled in the Ziploc bag. Kit fumbled over them, searching for the Nitrostat.
Damn. She must’ve forgotten it at home. Kit grabbed the next best thing, propranolol. Only a few tablets were left. All her newly refilled bottles were sitting on her bathroom counter.
She drew in deep breaths for a count of four. Slow and steady. Held for four. Exhaled the same. The square breathing technique had saved her more than once.
Stupid, weak heart.
A chilly breeze whipped up the hem of her flimsy sundress. She zipped her layered hoodie and vegan leather jacket, regretting her flirty ensemble.
The wheezing eased and her chest lightened. Kit shoved her meds in her bag.
Her gaze locked on the hulking silver SUV parked in front of her building. It belonged to Bravo, the shady client Jasper had found for the Outliers’ most recent contract. Anyone using an obvious alias and willing to pay two million for only two days of work was trouble in all caps.
She was an idiot for bringing Jasper around the Outliers. Her stupidity made her want to gag. This was her team, her family he was dragging into black-hat territory and putting at risk.
Jasper was the water that seeped into the fine cracks of a rock, froze, and expanded, shattering it to pieces. An ice wedge.
Kit turned down the passageway and headed for the back door where she could slip in and avoid a run-in with Bravo. The creepy guy gave her a distinct Danger, Will Robinson vibe.
She tapped the code into the digital lock, entered through the alley-side door, and climbed the long flight of stairs. Kit was itching to see Marty, Tim, Jeff, and Lincoln. The guys had been working around the clock and hadn’t had time to come home to the cushy five-bedroom loft they all shared, courtesy of her trust fund. At the top of the landing, she opened the door.
“Shut up and sit down!” The harsh male voice came from down the hall.
Kit caught the steel door before it slammed closed and let it ease shut with a slight click.
The double doors of the work center at the opposite end of the hall were ajar.
Through the gap, she saw Jasper standing beside his computer station, and she caught Bravo’s side profile. He had the lean, strong body of an athlete. Alabaster skin, cropped reddish-brown hair, glasses. Bravo wore jeans and a black bomber jacket.
“Why should we do anything else you say?” Jasper asked. “We’re all as good as dead.”
A chill raced down her spine and she stilled. What was happening?
Bravo shifted, putting his back to the corridor and Kit, and held up a gun with an attached silencer to Jasper’s forehead. A sheen of sweat glistened on Jasper’s stricken face.
Holy hell. Something awful was going down. She knew those bastards were no good, but she didn’t want to be right. Not like this.
Where were the others? Were they in the room? Hurt? Alive?
Kit considered sneaking back out, but she needed to know if the Outliers were still alive. She crept down the hall toward the work center on the balls of her feet, keeping the chunky heels of her boots from clattering against the tile. She peeked inside the room through the gap between the double doors.
Jeff, Marty, Lincoln, and Tim sat at their computers, trembling. Two other men had weapons trained on them.
Jasper looked her way. His frantic eyes locked on hers for only a split second and her heart squeezed. Then just as quickly, his gaze lowered.
Before Bravo had a chance to turn, Jasper kicked his chair and pressed his forehead against the silencer. “Shoot me, damn it, and get it over with.”
Blinding panic froze her muscles. It felt like an eternity before she risked taking a breath.
“There are worse things than a quick, painless death,” Bravo said, too distracted by Jasper’s outburst to notice her. “Sit.”
Jasper’s gaze darted to her for a nanosecond, then fastened back on the terrifying man with the gun before he lowered his head and did as he was told. “I wish I’d listened to Kit. Wish I could tell her I was sorry, to take the Sentry and make it right.”
“What’s the Sentry?” Bravo asked.
“I’ll tell you when I see you in hell,” Jasper said. “The bottom line is Kit was right.”
“Speaking of the lovely Kit, I’d hoped she’d join us. Where is she?”
Tension rocketed through Kit’s chest.
“Why?” Jasper sucked in a shuddering breath. “Why do you want Kit?”
“She’s a loose end,” Bravo said. “Tell me where Kit is, or I put a bullet in your groin.”
Two minutes ago, Kit wanted to be rid of Jasper so badly, she’d tasted the hatred. And the animosity was mutual. Now Jasper had to choose between giving her up or suffering a painful death.
No contest. She was screwed.
“Quick and painless. Or slow and agonizing. The way you die is your choice, Jasper.”
“Kit wanted to stay as far away from you guys as possible.” Jasper’s voice was shaky but had never sounded stronger. “I’m glad she doesn’t know what Tim and Lincoln did.”
Bravo pointed the gun at Jasper’s crotch. “Where is she?”
“At the loft,” Jasper said, “waiting for us to finish this job.”
She stifled a sob of regret for not giving Jasper more credit. Maybe this nightmare could’ve been avoided if she’d been able to talk the team out of working for these evil SOBs.