If nothing else, he planned to go down fighting like any true warrior would do, trying to protect his one and only rescue. If it happened, then his death would mean something. He could live with that, so to speak.
Then it happened—the sound of boots. Outside. Pounding at the cement and growing louder.
He held his breath, needing to deaden all sounds and focus on the approaching threat.
Whoever it was stopped a few seconds later. Maybe outside the door. Maybe not. But too close either way.
Shit. He needed them to keep moving. Not check inside. Not search the crawl space behind the cabinets.
Just then he felt something rub against his thigh from the side.
He turned to see Liz moving her hands up to her head, rubbing her forehead as if she had a headache.
Dammit.
She was awake.
Bad timing.
Bad luck.
Bad decision to hide here.
Bad everything.
Fuck.
He wrapped his hand over her mouth and clamped down just as her eyes opened.
Her eyebrows went up and her eyes shot wide, her chest now pumping air against the skin of his palm.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Shhh, Doc. You’re safe. It’s me, Bishop. We gotta be quiet. Understand?”
She held her same facial pose and continued her rapid breathing, not giving him any indication that she did.
“Please, Doc. You gotta stay quiet. They’re right outside.”
It must have taken a few seconds for his second round of words to register, because she didn’t nod right away. But eventually she did, giving him a twin set of nods.
“Good. I’m going to remove my hand now. Don’t scream or say a word. They’ll kill us.”
She nodded again, her eyes still holding their alert status.
Bishop wasn’t sure if her expression meant she was onboard with the ‘don’t make a sound plan,’ or if she was responding in a ruse, planning to go nuts and give away their position.
He took a second to consider the answer.
She was a smart lady.
A trained physician.
More brainpower than he would ever have in his lifetime.
Hell, maybe two lifetimes.
She had to be onboard.
She had to be.
Or they were both fucked and this would be their last minute on Earth.
He paused for another moment, then decided to bet on her and her ability to reason, even under the duress of a sudden fright of consciousness.
Bishop relaxed the pressure around her mouth and took his hand away.
Her lips remained closed as he raised an index finger to his mouth and held it there, giving her his friendliest expression.
She nodded at him one more time, and he at her, watching her breathing slow a bit.
Smart woman.
Thank God.
Bishop spun forward, returning his focus to the activity outside.
He checked but didn’t see a shadow leaking into view from beyond the end of the cabinets.
Good news so far, but that didn’t mean the threat wasn’t still there. He needed to reacquire the target. Reassess the proximity threat level. Prepare to attack if approached.
Bishop steadied his chest and turned his head at an angle, listening for clues, all the while praying he wouldn’t hear a foot plant, an extended breath, or a rustle of clothing.
Any of those would mean certain death.
For someone.
Maybe him.
Maybe the insurgent.
Maybe Liz.
CHAPTER 30
“Well, would you look at that?” Dice quipped to Fletcher, the two of them standing in front of the leftmost cell door in Edison’s brig.
If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he never would have believed it. A huddle of Scabs—female Scabs, cowering in the corner of the metal-barred prison. The odd thing was, they weren’t acting like a gang of teeth-driven carnivores. More like frightened mice. “Never in a million years.”
Dice brought his focus to the cell door sitting open, its locking mechanism a twisted mess of charred metal.
There was also a body lying in a pool of blood on the floor a few feet beyond the entrance. Most of its face and chest were missing and there were chunks of tissue clinging to the wall beyond the corpse.
“Who did this?” Fletcher asked.
“Sketch, sir. He had the explosives team work their magic.”
“A little too well, I suspect.”
“I think they got the message though, sir.”
“Roger that. It’s how you turn predators into passivists.” Fletcher pointed to the figure on the floor. “Except for one.”
“Apparently, once the C4 was in place, she threw herself against the lock and took the blast straight on.”
“To protect the others. Impressive.”
“Yeah, who knew?” Dice said. “But it’s not like it matters.”
“No, it doesn’t, except for the mess.”
“At least it confirms Zimmer’s account, sir.”
“Again, like you said, not that it matters,” Fletcher said.
“What do you want us to do with them?”
Fletcher held for a few seconds before he replied. “I think the answer is obvious.”
Dice raised his rifle and pointed it at the women.
Fletcher put his hand on the upper receiver of Dice’s weapon. “Hang on a second. I have a better idea.”
Dice lowered his gun, his mind latching on the next most logical answer. “Something a little more entertaining?”
“Nah, I think we’ve spent enough rounds today.”
Dice wasn’t referring to a shooting contest, though hunting them down and blasting them apart did have some appeal. “I don’t know, boss. The men are pretty hard up for some new pussy, but I don’t think these things are going to cut it. Not unless we two-bag it. You know, in case one of them falls off in the middle.”
“You’re missing the point, Dice.”
“Sorry, sir. I thought you—”
“These Scabs don’t exist just for the hell of it.”
“Craven?”
“He made them in that factory of his and did so for a reason.”
“This must have been what he meant when he said he had some containment issues?”
“Oh yeah, count on it. My guess is that these Scabs are valuable. More than we know.”
“Which is why he never mentioned them.”
“He never does anything without a reason.”
“Then we have to ransom them,” Dice said.
“That’s the smart move. Never waste an opportunity, brother,” Fletcher said.
“Or a hard on, which is why I thought—”
“I know what you meant,” Fletcher said. “Get a team together and bring them to the surface.”
“I take it we’re changing plans?”
“Negative. Nothing’s changed. Lipton is our first priority.
“Because the refinery has to get back online.”
“Copy that. Then we’ll go have a little chat with Craven. I’m sure he’s going to want these things back. Plus I want to see the look on his face when he realizes we know about the female Scabs. And that we have them.”
“I would pay money to watch that shit.”
“Entertainment is where you find it, Dice.”