The Sixth Day (A Brit in the FBI 5)

“Having a hard time. If I didn’t know better I’d say the place is lined in lead. We’re barely getting readings, but it looks like three bodies to your east. Other side of the wall from where you are.”

She heard Nicholas say, “Hold on,” and then a clatter. Immediately, gunfire opened up again, spraying the room. This time, Mike could see where the shots originated.

“The wall in the corner—there’s a freaking weapon hanging from the ceiling.

Nicholas said, “And it’s automated, on a motion sensor. I’ll throw another canister. When I do, you two bolt for the hallway.”

“What’s to say there won’t be another gun?”

“Probably is, we’ll have to take each room as we go. Three, two, one, break.”

There was a clatter, and the weapon went off in a flash of light. Mike ran, hard, toward the darkness, pulling up short just inside the hallway. No new guns went off.

She said, “We might be in luck. I see light at the end of the hallway.”

“Anyone with ears knows we’re here,” Gareth said. “Whatever, or whoever, is behind that door is going to be pretty angry when we blow through.”

Mike gave him a mad grin. “Let’s go.”

Carefully, they duck-walked down the hallway, silent as they could be, all geared up. Mike could smell blood, knew it was Nicholas and Gareth, and worried. But then they were at the door, and Gareth placed two explosives on the hinges.

“Biometric locks. Hopefully, this door isn’t all steel.”

Nicholas said, “Only one way to find out. Behind me, both of you. Go, go, go.” They ducked and covered their ears, and he hit the trigger on the charge.

The door blew inward. It took Mike’s eyes moment to adjust before her ears registered the screaming.

The man charged them out of nowhere, an automatic weapon in his hands, spraying bullets. He passed through their sight so fast Mike didn’t shoot back, afraid she might hit Isabella.

Nicholas continued firing through the open doorway, Mike crouched behind him. she heard a cry. “Gareth, you’re hit?”

He was crawling to the safety of the hallway just outside the blown door. “Grazed my leg. Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

Mike stepped to the side of the doorway, went down on her knees to cover Nicholas. She saw the man who’d charged at them crouched to the left of the door, ready

to shoot again the moment Nicholas cleared the doorway and came into the room. His hair was white blond, and his teeth were bared in fury. He saw Nicholas and lurched up and into the open, his weapon high, too high, and Nicholas shot him in the chest. He staggered back, but didn’t fall.

“Nicholas, he’s in Kevlar!” and she shot at his legs.

He was down, groaning, on his side on the floor, grabbing his left leg. Nicholas shouted, “FBI, put down your weapon,” but the man groaned once and went limp. A huge pool of blood spread across the perfect white floor.

“Artery shot, Mike.”

They heard a woman’s voice shout, “Careful. It’s rigged, they rigged—” before she was cut off.

They froze. “What’s rigged?”

They heard her garbled voice. Someone had his hand over her mouth. They studied the room that looked like a large hospital suite but didn’t see anything that could kill them.

“Isabella,” Mike called. “Is that you? Are you all right?”

There was scuffling and more muffled yells. Nicholas took one step forward, heard something metallic grinding and ducked just before a sharp edge of metal swung right at his head. Mike ran forward, went down on her knees, and skidded. They collided.

Nicholas grabbed her arms to hold her steady. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“I don’t know, but it nearly took off your head. She was right, the place is rigged.”

Mike leaned up, whispered against his ear, “The defenses must be on motion sensors. Maybe if we stay low, we can get them to go off without killing us.”