Michelle Maddox - Countdown

I rested my head on Rogan's shoulder. Both of us had our hands bound behind our backs.

He was currently unconscious, but he'd put up a pretty good fight. Despite what I'd told Rogan earlier, I was actually surprised that they hadn't killed us on the spot.

I was sure it was only a matter of time.

I tried to imagine Rogan showing up to work every day at a building like this one and couldn't quite picture it. The Rogan Ellis I knew wasn't a high-powered businessman with billions of dollars to spend and power to wield. I wasn't sure if I would have liked the old Rogan when he was a rich, spoiled playboy.

In fact, I was quite sure I would have hated him.

Then again, the old Rogan probably wouldn't have looked twice at somebody like me. At the end of the day, I was just a street thief who happened to steal the wrong guy's wallet one day. I'd never even been inside a building like this one.

But that was exactly where they were taking us.

I tried to concentrate on the sound of my breathing. Anything to keep from thinking about how badly this could all go. As Rogan had said, he wasn't sure how we were going to get inside the building in the first place. The security was tight. Super tight. We had to go through three checkpoints and a manned security station before coming within fifty feet of the place.

The car rolled to a stop next to a black side door. A man in a white coat sprayed something in Rogan's face, and he woke up with a jerk. Every muscle in his body seemed to tense until he saw me and our gazes met.

"We're here," I told him.

"Are you okay?" were his first gruff words.

"No, we're both royally screwed."

He smirked at me. "I think you're probably right."

"Shut up," a White Coat suggested firmly.

I glared at him but refrained from telling him to fuck off. We were in enough hot water as it was. Wouldn't want to speed up the execution.

God, even thinking about it made me feel sick.

Then the back door of the car opened and both of us were yanked out of our seats. All the White Coats, whom I had originally assumed were scientists of some sort, were carrying weapons. Scientists packing heat. Didn't make me feel any better.

"Move," they instructed.

We moved. Through an open door and into the cool interior of the building.

"We're in," Rogan said. "Should we celebrate now or wait till later?"

I gave him a look. How could he joke at a time like this? But I saw that the mild levity of his words did not spread to his expression.

"Shut up." One of the men jammed the butt of his gun into Rogan's back as we walked along a long, bare hallway. The white-tiled floor squeaked against my boots. "Don't make me tell you again."

Rogan said something under his breath, and it wasn't pleasant.

At the end of the hallway something was waiting for us, and I stopped walking quite as fast as we neared it.

Or rather, him.

It was Gareth. He stood there next to an open elevator with his feet spread, his arms folded across the front of his expensive, designer black business suit. His eyes were narrowed at our approach.

"Welcome back, brother," he said as Rogan was shoved into the elevator before me so hard that he hit the back of it with his shoulder. His hands were still bound behind him.

"Brother?" Rogan repeated through clenched teeth. "Is that what we are? Are you certain of that?"

"Sure I am." Gareth's mouth twisted into a strange smile and he glanced at me. "Why? Have you heard differently from someone?"

I felt a shove at my back and staggered into the elevator as well. Four men in white coats and then Gareth all pressed into the elevator and the doors closed. I felt very claustrophobic, which actually wasn't one of my typical fears, but I considered adding it to the growing list, along with darkness and heights.

We'd entered on the ground level, but the elevator took us down farther.

Joe had told us that the room with the artificial intelligence server was in the subbasement.

Joe hadn't put up a fight when the White Coats entered the gaming room a half hour ago. In an act of cowardly self-preservation he'd slunk back into the shadows and tried to pretend he wasn't even there. And it had worked. They didn't bother with him at all, since they were focused on us.

However, they did grab Colin. He hadn't accompanied us in the car, so I had no idea what had happened to him. Frankly, I didn't care. If I allowed myself to think about that bastard too much I wasn't going to be able to see for the blinding rage I was feeling at his betrayal. Maybe he'd get a reward. I guess everyone was out for themselves. Not that this was news.

I felt a small lurch as the elevator stopped and the doors opened up on a whole lot of white. Since heaven probably wasn't located five floors underground, I was going to have to assume that I wasn't dead yet.

I figured my odds of getting into heaven were slim to none anyhow.

Gareth soundlessly stepped off the lift, and a firm grip circled my upper arm, crushing enough to bruise, and one of the men pulled me along another hallway.

All white. Everything was white and smelled of metal and antiseptic.

Never had pristine cleanliness looked more like death to me.

"Where are you taking us?" Rogan demanded.

The White Coat whacked the gun against the back of his head. Not enough to knock him out, but definitely enough to hurt like hell. Rogan turned his head to glare at the man with uncensored fury, his upper lip curling back from his teeth.

"Do that again," he snarled, "and I'll shove that gun up your ass and pull the trigger."

The man laughed, obviously feeling unthreatened.

Joe said that he hadn't wanted to work here. Despite the perks, of which I'm sure there were many, he couldn't stomach the sadistic nature of being controlled by a walking, talking computer virus.

This guy, however, didn't seem to have a problem with it.

Gareth nodded at a door ahead. "In there."

It looked exactly the same as the room where I'd spoken with Gareth before, which meant I'd already been here. They'd taken me here by helicopter after Level Four, when I'd been blindfolded. However, I could have been wrong. There wasn't much to mark it as a unique room. It was all white, with a table in the middle. Two chairs on either end. Both white, the monotone giving it a strange, almost surreal feeling.

Rogan and I, wearing our borrowed clothes from the safe house and heavy Countdown black boots, were pushed into the chairs so we were facing each other.

Rogan met my gaze and held it. His handsome face was lined with worry and stress, his brows drawn together in a deep frown. The slash of his scar was red against his pale face. I saw a small amount of blood trailing down the side of his neck from where that asshole had hit him with the gun.

His hands were still locked behind him in metal cuffs just like mine.

He didn't say anything and neither did I. It was evident on his face what he was thinking, as I'm sure it was on mine.

Don't lose hope. We 're not dead yet.

I remembered the touch of his lips brushing mine, the feel of his body moving against me, inside of me. My stomach clenched at the thought that the time we'd had together might be all we ever had. A couple of days with the only man I'd ever truly been in love with.

Don't lose hope.

"Leave us," Gareth said, glancing at the men who stood there brandishing weapons that seemed so black against their white clothes. "And send him in when he's ready."

Send him in. My gaze left Rogan to go to the door. Send who in?

The White Coats left and then we waited. It felt like hours, but I'm sure it was only minutes until he walked in. My mouth dropped open.

Colin.