Memory Zero (Spook Squad 1)

According to her hirsute friend, it wouldn’t. She wondered who the man was and how he knew so much—about her, about Gabriel, and about what was going on. Was he one of Jack’s men? Or perhaps one of Sethanon’s?

But why would Sethanon—or even one of his or Jack’s men—want to help her?

Gabriel squatted in front of the door, his gaze intent as he shoved the pin into the lock and began to carefully turn it. After a few minutes, there was a faint click.

They were free of the cell. Now all they had to do was get out of this complex.

“WHEN I WAS LED DOWN here,” he said softly, as he rose, “there was a guard stationed to the left of the door. I couldn’t see anyone else, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be.”

Sam nodded. “You take out the first guard, I’ll look for others.” She could do that, even if she felt like shit. He didn’t ask if she was capable, which was refreshing. She’d only have to break a nail with Jack and you would have thought she was dying. Obviously fake concern, she now realized.

He grasped the handle, held up three fingers and counted them down. Then he thrust the door back hard. There was a grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor. Gabriel followed through fast. She ducked to the right. A guard stood at the far end of the room, rifle rising as he turned to face them.

“Gabriel, shooter, ten o’clock!” she warned, dropping to the ground.

He tore the gun from the grip of the unconscious guard near his feet and fired. The second guard went down with a muffled cry.

She hobbled over to the second guard’s prone form and scooped up his rifle. With her back against the wall, she studied the corridor beyond, listening and watching for any sort of alarm. Gabriel patted down the two men.

“Found a set of keys,” he said in a hushed voice, stopping on the opposite side of the doorway. “They might be of use.”

“It could be the keys to his house or even his mailbox, for all we know.” She kept her voice as low as his. “Chances are they won’t be car keys.”

“Our luck’s got to change sometime.”

Luck was something she’d learned never to rely on. “Do we go for a phone or a car?”

“I can’t risk phoning Stephan from here. It’s too dangerous—for him and for us.”

“Car, then. Do you know where we can find one?”

He hesitated, face suddenly grim. “Yes. And I know where we can get the keys.” He held up three fingers again.

She watched his countdown. At three she moved out, keeping low as she swung left. There was no one in sight.

“This way.” He motioned to the corridor leading off to the right.

She followed him, almost running to keep up with his long strides. By the time they reached the top of the looping corridor, sweat was trickling down her back, her

muscles ached and she felt light-headed. When he stopped to investigate another door, she leaned against the wall and desperately tried to catch her breath. Jack’s tests had sapped all her strength. She felt as fragile as an umbrella in a windstorm.

“You okay?”

Her gaze rose at his concerned question. Worry was very evident in his hazel eyes, which was natural, since he was using her as much as Jack. He was just being nicer about it. But she nodded. Weak or not, she had to go on. She had to stop Jack.

“You look sort of gray,” he said.

“So would you if you’d had a near-death experience.” The concern in his gaze got stronger, and she forced a smile. “Go. I don’t think we have that much time to play with.”

He nodded and moved through the door. She covered his back, scanning the room, weapon at the ready as she watched for any sign of movement. But there was no life here, only the dead—either in coffins or as a headless corpse sprawled on the floor.

Mary. That was where he intended to get the keys. She touched his arm. He glanced down at her, eyes bleak. He hadn’t wanted to see Mary like this, she realized.

“I’ll do it.”

He hesitated. “I’ll watch the exits.”

She walked over to Mary’s body. The one good thing about laser weapons was the cleanness of the death—there was no blood and, in this case, no head. Her stomach turned at the thought, and she kept her eyes averted from the blackened neck stump as she rifled through the dead woman’s clothes. She found a set of keys in her right jacket pocket, and a disk in her left.