The cavalry arrived a second later, Rhage, Butch, and Vishous landing one, two, three in the elevator. The trio were armed like tanks and pissed off.
Phury glanced down at his watch. "I'm going to get the civilians and the staff out of here. You take care of finding any loose lessers in the facility and playing welcome wagon to the next wave."
"Phury," Zsadist called out as he turned around.
When Phury looked over his shoulder, his twin tossed across one of the pair of SIGs he always wore.
"Watch your ass," Z said.
Phury took the gun with a nod and jogged down the corridor. After doing a quick scope of the distances between the medical supply closet, Havers's office, and the stairwell, he felt like the three points were seperated by miles, not yards.
He opened the door to the stairwell. Security lights glowed red, and the silence was golden. Moving quickly, he went up the steps, entered the code for the door lock into the house, and stuck his head out into a wood-paneled hallway. The scent of lemon polish was from the glossy floor.The perfume of roses came from a bouquet on a marble stand. The lamb-and-rosemary combo was from the kitchen.
No baby powder.
Karolyn, Havers's maid, leaned around the corner. "Sire?"
"Gather the servants - "
"We're all together. Right here. We heard the alarms." She nodded over her shoulder. "There are twelve of us."
"Is the house secure?"
"None of our security systems have gone off."
"Excellent." He tossed her the keys Havers had given him. "Take the tunnels out to the garages and lock yourselves in them. Start every ambulance and car you have, but do not pull out, and leave one person by the door so I can get in with the others. I will knock and identify myself. Do not open up for anyone else but me or a Brother. Got it?"
It was painful to watch the doggen swallow her fear and nod. "Is our master..."
"Havers is fine. I'm going to bring him to you." Phury reached out and squeezed her hand. "Go. Now. And be quick. We have no time here."
He was back down in the clinic in the blink of an eye. He could hear his brothers moving around, knew them by the sounds of their boots and their scents and their patter of talk. No more slayers yet, evidently.
He went to Havers's office and sprang the four who were in there first, because he didn't trust Havers to keep tight and stay put. Fortunately, the doctor manned up and did as he was told, moving quickly up the stairs to the main house with the nurses. Phury escorted them into the tunnels that led out to the garages, and jogged along with them through the cramped underground escape route that ran under the parking lot behind the mansion.
"Which one of the tunnels leads directly to the ambulances? " he asked when they got to a four-pronged split.
"Second from left, but the garages are all interconnected."
"I want you and the nurses in the ambulances with the patients. So that's where we're going."
They trucked it as fast as they could go. When they got to a steel door, Phury pounded on the thing and barked his name. The lock disengaged and he let his troop in.
"I'll be back with more," he said, as everyone embraced.
He went back down into the clinic and ran into Z. "Any more slayers?"
"None. I've got V and Rhage guarding the front, and Rehv and I are going to stake out the south tunnel."
"I could use some cover for the vehicles."
"Roger that. I'll send Rhage. You're going out the back, right?"
"Yup."
He and his twin parted, and Phury headed for the supply closet. His hand was rock-steady as he took the nurse's key out of his pocket and knocked on the door.
"It's me." He put the key in and turned the handle.
He met their faces once more and caught the flashes of relief. Which didn't last as they saw the gun in his hand.
"I'm taking you out through the house," he said. "Do we have any mobility issues?"
The little group parted to reveal an older male on the ground. He had an IV in his arm, which one of the nurses was holding above his head.
Shit. Phury glanced back at the hall. His brothers were nowhere around.
"You," he said, pointing to a male lab tech. "Carry him. You." He nodded to the female holding the bag. "Stay with them."
As the tech got the patient off the floor and the blond nurse kept the IV bag up high, Phury paired the remaining staff up, one to a patient.
"Move as fast as you can. You're going to use the stairwell to the house and proceed directly to the garage tunnels. It'll be your first right after you're inside the mansion. I'll be behind you. Go. Now."
Even though they did the best they could, it took years.
Years.
He was ready to jump out of his skin as they finally hit the red-lit stairway, and locking the steel door behind them gave him scant relief considering the lessers had explosives. The patients were slow, with two just a day or so out of surgery. He wanted to carry either or both of that pair but couldn't risk not having a gun at the ready.
On the landing, one patient, a female with a bandage around her head, had to stop.
Without being asked, the blond nurse quickly gave the IV bag to the male tech. "Just until we're in the tunnel." Then she scooped the sagging female up into her arms. "Let's go."
Phury shot her a nod and let her have at the stairs.
The group trickled out into the mansion to the sounds of shuffling feet and a couple of coughs. The total absence of alarms was spectacular as he locked the door to the clinic behind them and took them over to the tunnel entrance.
As the group hobbled in, the blond nurse with the female in her arms paused. "You have any other weapons? Because I can shoot."
Phury's brows shot up. "I don't have another - "
His eyes caught the shine of two ornamental swords on the wall above one of the doorways. "Take my gun. I'm good with sharp things."
The nurse offered him her hip, and he shoved Z's SIG in the pocket of her white coat. Then she turned away and marched into the tunnel as he popped both swords off their brass hooks, then jogged to catch up.
When they came up to the door to the garage with the ambulances, he pounded with his fist, shouted his name, and the thing sprang open. Instead of going through it, every single one of those vampires he'd led out looked at him.
Seven faces. Fourteen eyes. Seventy fingers still clenching.
But it was different now.
Their gratitude was the other half of the God job, and he was overwhelmed by their devotion and relief. Their collective realization that their faith in their savior had been well placed and the reward was their lives was a palpable force.
"We're not out of it yet," he told them.
When Phury looked at his watch again, it was thirty-three minutes later.
Twenty-three civilians, medical staff, and household doggen had been evac'd from the garages. The ambulances and cars had taken off not from the regular doors that faced the back of the house, but from retractable rear panels that allowed the vehicles to shoot out into the shallow woods behind the mansion. One by one, they'd driven off without lights on and without brakes being used. And one by one, they'd made it free and ghosted away into the night.
The op was a total success, and yet he had a bad feeling about it all.
The lessers had never come back.
Wasn't like them. Under normal circumstances, once they infiltrated, they swarmed. It was their SOP to take as many civilians as possible for interrogation and then strip whatever premises they'd gotten into of anything of value. Why hadn't they sent more men? Especially given the assets in Havers's clinic and house, and the fact that the slayers had to know the Brothers would be all over the place, ready to fight.
Back in the clinic, Phury walked down the hall, double-checking that all the patient rooms were empty of the living. It was a pitiful review. Bodies. Lots of bodies. And the whole facility was totally trashed, as mortally wounded as any of the dead who lay strewn about. Bedsheets were on the floor, pillows scattered, heart monitors and IV poles knocked around. In the corridors, supplies were dropped randomly here and there, and there were all those horrid smudges of black-soled boots and red, shiny blood.
Rapid evacs were not a Martha Stewart kind of thing. Neither was fighting.
As he headed for the registration area, it seemed eerie that there was no more hustle and bustle in the place, just the HVAC system and the computers humming. Occasionally a phone rang, but it wasn't picked up.