“I can climb.”
The minutes it took to make it to the next floor felt interminable. She couldn’t think about Ian fighting the Shadow Walkers or her father fighting the Hunter. It took every ounce of her focus to keep moving through the pain. As soon as they reached the ledge, Corin edged out on it and shoved his fingers into the crack, prying the doors open. She had a moment of paralysis as he held out a hand to help her across the gap. Another jump.
“I won’t let you go,” he said.
Nodding, she took his hand and leapt. Her momentum carried both of them through the open doors. As soon as she was through, Marley collapsed to her knees and pressed her hands to the dirty floor.
“You okay?” asked Corin.
“I’m alive. That’s more than I thought I’d be five minutes ago.”
He stripped off his shirt, quickly wrapping it around her bloody calf. Marley didn’t look, couldn’t. If she actually saw how bad it was, she might finally go into shock, and they couldn’t afford that. The grim expression on the shaman’s face was bad enough.
When he was finished, he held out a hand, dragging her to her feet. “C’mon.”
“What about Dad?”
“Right here,” he grunted, hauling himself through the open doors.
Marley staggered to him, falling into his arms. He was bloody and battered, but alive. He gave her a fast, hard squeeze.
“Are you all right? Your leg…”
“I’ll be fine. We’ve got to get into position.”
This was one of the lower floors. Lead lines made a grid through the hallways, connected to blasting caps that would control the sequence of the detonation. The setup was designed to take out the support beams of the lowest floors in one big blast. Gravity would bring down the rest. But that wasn’t what they wanted. They needed more time, so they moved through the hallways, cutting lines, disabling the caps. With her father and Corin more or less carrying her, they made for the stairwell. A giant 4 was painted on the wall. Only a few dozen feet to the hard and unforgiving ground.
So freaking close to splat, she thought. Using Corin for leverage, she examined the dummy charges she’d laid earlier. They’d been disabled, exactly as she’d expected they’d be. They were amateur, obvious, and put the squad at ease, believing they’d neutralized the threat. They moved down the stairs, following her instructions on reconnecting the hidden lead lines as they actually needed to be, disconnecting the junctions on the lower floors. More small cannisters of thermite were set to go with the blast, taking out steel support beams. It would be a fast reaction, but wouldn’t cause the seismic shockwave that would take out all the lower floors. The building would collapse, but more slowly than the demo team intended. And that would give Ian enough time to carry through with the plan.
Marley was certain her chemistry professors never expected her knowledge to be used like this.
“Okay that’s it. Call Diego. We’re nearly ready.”
Harm waited a beat. “We can’t get back up there safely. There’s no way to get a messenger to Ian.”
Marley’s hands fumbled only for a moment as she attached the end of the line to the battery case. “He’ll make it. He has to.”
As her father radioed the warlock, she made the last of the adjustments, completed the wiring.
A flash of green reflecting off the wall alerted her to Diego’s arrival. “Time to go,” he said, holding the portal open.
Marley pulled the real detonator from her pocket and glanced toward the ceiling where, somewhere more than twenty floors above, the love of her life was fighting. Stick to the plan. Whatever you do, stick to the plan.
Harm stood at the threshold waiting for her.
Sending up a prayer, she flicked open the cover and pressed the button.
~*~
Half mad with grief, Ian fought back to back with his brother. The Underground cell was so much larger than their intel had indicated, and they were in way over their heads. Nico was dead. He’d lost track of the rest of the squad. But they could still save the hostages if only they could break the enemy’s line. He fired off another spray of bullets, emptied the clip and ducked behind a pillar to jab in another.
Auggie thumped beside him. “I’m out.”
Behind them, bullets pinged against the column, adding more dust to the air that stung Ian’s eyes, burned his lungs. “This is my last clip. I can lay down suppressor fire. Can you get to the hostages?”
Auggie twisted, peered over his shoulder at the debris and body-strewn route to their targets. He jerked back as another bullet whistled past his ear. “Clear a path to the seven o’clock. Two of them went down there. I can snag their guns on the fly, have something to cover you when I get there.”
Ian nodded. The two slapped palms. “See you out there,” said Auggie.