Rebecca Zanetti - Blind Faith

She’d seen the commander have Nate brought to the building late last night, and it had taken this long for her to gain access. She’d only had to knock out one doctor to reach the secured part of the main building. Exiting that building had taken several more hours, after she’d acquired a gun off a soldier she’d injected with morphine. Then she’d threatened two scientists, stolen several ID cards, and tied people up.

For nearly another hour, as dawn broke, she’d hidden behind a fuel tank until the guards around the hangar rotated. Finally, she’d managed to slip inside using one of the secured cards.

The people she’d tied up would be discovered soon.

She didn’t have much time.

Unnatural quiet surrounded the silent beasts. She maneuvered around them, her damaged leg hurting deep inside. Her activities of the night had strained her beyond her capabilities, and everything ached. Even her stomach.

But she had to save Nate.

Finally reaching a doorway in the far metal wall, she swiped a card, and the door opened. Thank goodness. A quick glance inside showed a rough cement stairway leading down. She swallowed. Nothing good happened down there.

Steeling her shoulders, she took the first step and closed the door quietly. She listened.

Silence.

She’d worn yoga pants, a sweatshirt, and tennis shoes for her night of creating havoc. The soft-soled shoes made no sound as she carefully took each step, her back to the wall, and the gun pointed down. The landing faced a wall, and she had to turn right. Taking a deep breath, she turned, her gun pointed directly at the soldier manning the door.

He opened his mouth to shout a warning.

She fired.

The bullet hit him in the chest, sending him down.

Oh God, oh God, oh God. She scrambled for the door and swiped the card through the reader. Nothing happened. Her fingers shook. Her heart pounded. She swiped again, and the door clicked.

Please, don’t let it be too late. She ran inside a small cell and stopped cold.

Nathan hung suspended from the ceiling, his hands holding chains, his knees twisting the commander’s neck. “Where the hell is Jory?” Nate yelled, veins popping along his jaw.

The commander fought back, punching up, turning and biting Nate’s thigh.

Nate bellowed in pain and struggled against the chains. “Why did you show me that video?”

The commander gurgled for air, reaching for his back pocket. “Because I’m not deactivating your chip or Jory’s chip, and I’m keeping you separated. Matt and Shane will have to separate to rescue you both, and that’s when I’ll reclaim all four of you.” He slowly drew a jagged-edged blade from his back pocket.

Audrey didn’t stop to think, didn’t stop to reason. She pointed the gun at the commander’s back… and fired.

The bullet hit him in the shoulder and knocked him across the room. He crashed into a metal table. Instruments of torture clattered to the concrete floor. His arms flailed, and blood sprayed from his chest. Must’ve been a through and through. His eyes closed and he hit the ground.

Nate swung his body toward her. Cuts, stabs, and burn marks violated his chest, legs, and neck. Bruises mottled a frightening purple across his strong face. “Get something sharp.”

She scrambled toward the bloody instruments on the floor and clasped a knife glinting red and silver. She turned, her breath heaving, and studied him. Reaching for the damaged table, she rolled it toward him. “I’ve got this.” Gingerly easing her good knee on the table, she leveraged herself and slowly stood up. The knife sliced easily into the leather cuffs around Nate’s wrists, although she had to saw for precious moments to free him.

He dropped with a groan, scrambling for the table and still going down.

Panic flooded her, and she leaned to balance on the table and hop down. “Nate?” She knelt next to him and held his shoulders. “How bad?”

He shook his head, and blood arced across the room. “Couple of broken bones, internal bleeding, and vision hazing.” Curling bloody fingers over the table, he hauled himself to his feet and hitched over to a laptop opened on a narrow table.

“Nate, let’s go.” She stood and reached for his arm. “Bring the laptop.” Was his brain even functioning?

As he brought up a Pinterest site for some artist from Alaska, she shook him. His brain had been fried. “We have to go.”

“Hold on.” His fingers fumbled on the keys. “I can’t function. Audrey, pin a picture of high-heeled shoes on this site, would you?”

She coughed. “You’re going to be okay. Trust me. Let’s go.” She tried to drag him toward the door.

“Now.” He tugged her back. “Pin.”

On all that was holy. She couldn’t move him. “Fine.” Leaning around him, she searched and pinned a sparkling pair of Louboutins onto the page. “Happy now?”

Satisfaction quirked his lips. “Oh, yeah.” He closed the laptop and shoved it into her hands. “Do not lose this.” He turned back toward the commander, who remained motionless on the floor. “This will only take a minute.”

“We have to go.” Audrey glanced at the downed man. “Right now. More men will be coming.”

A bellow sounded from up above, and boots clamored on the stairway. Nate growled, frustration flushing his face red as he tore himself away from the commander’s prone body. Nate claimed a knife from the floor and ran out in front of her, slicing one man across the face and the next across the neck.

He lurched on the stairs, and Audrey jumped forward to help him up. Grabbing her elbow, he stumbled for the door. “We have five minutes.”

He tripped several times on the stairway up, and she tried to stabilize him, even with her leg buckling. She tucked the gun in the back of her yoga pants. They reached the top stair, and Nate shoved open the door. She followed him into the hangar.

Strong arms hooked her and threw her across the room.

She cried out, landing hard and bouncing. The baby! Her ears rang. She slowly sat up to see Nate and a soldier grappling at the doorway. Nate jabbed an elbow into the soldier’s neck, and the soldier punched Nate in his already damaged face.

Nate fell back, crashing against the metal wall.

Audrey shook her head, trying to focus. The gun. She set the laptop on the concrete and took the gun from her waist. Rising, she started to aim and then stopped. Nate had the soldier in a headlock, and the guy’s neck snapped with a quick twist.

She gulped down bile.

Nate turned toward her, a bloody mess, pure fury in his gray eyes. “Are you all right?”

No. Not even close. “Yes. What’s the plan?”

He grinned bloody teeth. “Sparkly shoes mean we’re heading out via air.”

“Huh?” Her brain had slowed to a crawl.

“Get in that helicopter while I sabotage the other two.” He staggered toward a helicopter.

Oh. The Deans used a fake Pinterest site to relay messages? Audrey tried to ignore the immense pain attacking her body. What had she injured when she’d hit the ground?

No time for that. She reclaimed the laptop and limped over to crawl into the front seat of a Black Hawk. She kept the door open and her legs out just in case. A sharp pain stabbed along her ribs, and she bent over. “Ow.”

Nate whirled toward her. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” Another pain hit. Not again. “Please, Nate. Let’s go.”

Nate finished whatever he was doing with the other two vehicles and hitched over to her. “Get secure. This is going to be bumpy.” He frowned. “Hasn’t it been five minutes?”

Audrey wiped dirt off her chin. “Why?”

The outside door opened, and almost in slow motion, Isobel Madison clicked into the room. Her gaze on the tablet before her, she stilled, her head jerking up.