Rekindled (Titanium Security Series) (25 page)

Together they stacked old crates on top of each other into a rickety kind of ladder. When it was high enough she climbed to the top, grabbed the wall to support herself and reached a hand down to David. “Get me something heavy.”

He ran over to get the folding metal chair she’d been tied to and handed it up to her. Bracing her weight on the wobbly mound of crates, she drew the chair back, legs out, and drove it forward to plow against the glass pane with all her strength. The glass cracked but didn’t break. Panting, she drew back and slammed it forward once more. Over and over until her muscles were quivering and she was gasping for breath. But she’d managed to make a softball-sized hole in the window.

“Here,” David whispered, thrusting his suit jacket up at her. Grace wrapped it around her hands and shoved at the jagged edges of the glass until they snapped free and fell to the ground outside. She blinked against the glare of the sunlight streaming through the opening, her eyes slowly adjusting to see the line of emergency vehicles and personnel formed a few hundred yards away.

She looked down, surprised and relieved to see the building was dug into the ground so that the drop from the window wasn’t as high as she’d initially feared. They were maybe eight feet up. There was no one nearby, no one to shoot at them. “Come on,” she ordered David, and reached down for his hand. He clambered up next to her, held the jacket in place over the windowsill to help protect them from any jagged glass as she threw a leg over the edge.

The moment her foot cleared the opening, a long, ominous beep sounded behind them. They both turned their heads in time to see the wooden crate explode with a loud boom she felt in her chest. Whatever had been in that crate was now being released into the air.

Terror flashed through her.

Acting on instinct, Grace grabbed the edge of the windowsill, hauled her upper body through the small opening, and jumped. She hit the ground on her side with a thud, her hip and shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. The jolt of pain stole her breath for a moment, but panic drove her to her feet. She scrambled up, looked back at the window in time to see David shoving through it. His face was white, his eyes streaming, nose running.

He managed to haul himself out and drop to the ground, landing on his back. Grace took a running step toward him, but jerked to a halt when she realized he was drooling. In that paralyzing moment he lurched onto his hands and knees and started gagging.

SLUDGE symptoms.

Grace’s heart seized as she suddenly realized exactly what had been in that canister.

****

Heart in his throat, Alex ran toward the old hangar where Grace and her assistant were being held. Beyond the hangar, a wall of emergency vehicles and personnel stood ready and unmoving. No one was going to approach the building now, including the bomb squad, not with the risk of chemical weapons exposure.

“Give me status,” he barked to his team, who were all positioned beyond the perimeter, keeping watch through their scopes. His boots pounded against the sun-baked tarmac as he tore across the open space. The entire place was likely booby-trapped and according to Hunter the latest video footage had showed Grace and David trying to get free. If they tripped the bomb…

He blocked that thought and pushed himself as hard as he could. Seconds later, Hunter’s voice came through the earpiece. “Stop. She’s coming out the window.”

No!
He skidded to a halt, changed directions until he could see the back of the hangar. Sure enough, he saw Grace attempting to climb out the broken window. “No!” he roared, the word torn from the deepest part of him, but she didn’t hear him, didn’t stop. As he watched she hit the ground and struggled to get to her feet. She turned back to help David, who hit the ground. Grace took one single step toward him and froze.

Alex’s heart lurched, fear freezing him in place.

Grace lunged forward to grab David’s hand, and when she turned back he could see the stark terror in her face, the whites of her eyes showing. “Sarin!” she screamed. “Sarin!”

The bottom dropped out of Alex’s stomach.

Swearing, he swerved left and sprinted for the HAZMAT truck. “Give me some auto injectors!” he yelled at the men assembled there. One guy ran over to hand him a few, his expression through the plastic visor of his chem weapons suit telling him just how crazy he thought Alex was. He shoved past one guy who tried to block him, punched another in the stomach when the man grabbed Alex’s shoulders.

He tore free and whirled, intent only on getting to Grace. She’d dragged David a few yards but now let him go and ran, tearing her blouse open and yanking it off as she ran. She rubbed at her eyes and nose, and he could see her shoulders jerking as she gagged.

Leg muscles screaming, lungs ready to explode, Alex raced toward her. She wiped frantically at her face again, jerked her head around when she noticed him. The grief and panic in her face tore at his heart. She put her hands up and shook her head, veered away to run from him because she knew the remaining sarin on her skin and clothes could infect another person for up to a half hour.

“Grace, no!” he shouted. Her ragged sobs floated back to him but she didn’t stop, didn’t slow as she attempted to get away from him. To save him, even as every labored pump of her heart pushed the nerve agent through her bloodstream faster. She stumbled, gagged, and Alex was finally close enough. Using every bit of strength left in his legs, he launched himself at her, caught her in a flying tackle and brought her down. He twisted in mid-air to take the brunt of the impact but it wasn’t enough. She bounced against the tarmac and cried out, then turned her head and began vomiting.

Alex rolled to his knees and yanked the safety cap off the atropine auto injector, grabbed her thigh to hold her in place and pressed the needle firmly into her outer thigh, holding it there for ten seconds. He smelled the sharp ammonia scent of urine, looked down to see the puddle forming beneath her.

Fuck, oh, fuck
.

Frantic to stop the progression of the symptoms, he tossed it aside and followed the same procedure for the 2-PAM injector. She was vomiting uncontrollably, shaking, her face covered in tears and mucus. As he held the second needle in place he felt his own eyes start to sting, his nose start to run and an ominous tightening in his chest.

He was so focused on keeping that injector in place that he only heard the pounding footsteps a second before someone drove him into the ground with their weight. The loaded syringe fell from his hand as he hit the ground. Strong hands flipped him onto his side.

He cranked his head around, stared up through streaming eyes at Hunter looking down at him through the visor of his MOPP suit. Then the sharp sting of a needle in his lateral thigh. His stomach twisted. He pitched to the side and puked, kept puking even when there was nothing left to come up. His chest was so tight he could hardly breathe, his lungs laboring to draw air as the toxin circulated through his bloodstream.

He felt the sting of a second needle. After a few seconds the tightness in his chest eased enough for him to gasp in a breath between bouts of vomiting.

Hunter began stripping Alex’s shirt off him, then his boots, socks, pants and underwear. Someone else stood nearby to stuff the clothes into a plastic bag and seal it shut. Cold water sprayed over him. He lay there shaking at the chill even though the sun still beat down on his naked skin. The nausea slowly faded, then the running eyes and nose dried out enough for him to see. Despite Hunter’s growled command to stay still, he turned over on one elbow to look for Grace. Someone else in a MOPP suit knelt next to her, blocking her from view.

“Gage, move the hell aside so he can see her, for Christ’s sake,” Hunter snapped. “He won’t fucking lie still otherwise.”

Gage glanced back, shifted enough for Alex to see Grace and his heart squeezed so tight he couldn’t breathe for a moment. She was still breathing, her face holding a faint bluish tinge. Those beautiful aqua eyes were still streaming, but they were partially open and looking at him.

“Grace,” he wheezed, reaching out a hand toward her. His eyes filled again, but this time not from sarin exposure.

At the sound of his voice her eyelids flickered. She focused on him, her naked breasts shuddering with the force of her distressed inhalations, the muscles in her neck standing out as she struggled for air. Gage placed an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

More running footsteps sounded, then a wall of men in HAZMAT suits surrounded them, blocking Grace from view. Alex closed his eyes and lay there as they administered oxygen and started an IV, praying as he’d never prayed before. If Grace didn’t make it, he didn’t want to either. He’d let her down so much already, abandoned her when she needed him most. Not this time.

As soon as the IV line was in and they were pushing fluids into his bloodstream, he shoved aside the restraining hands on him and crawled the few feet over to where Grace lay.

“Move back,” Hunter barked, clearing the way for Alex as the former SEAL banded one heavy arm around Alex’s chest and lugged him over. Hunter laid him next to Grace and Alex immediately sought her hand. Her fingers were ice cold and limp in his, but her pupils weren’t constricted and she was looking straight at him.

Alex squeezed her hand, his voice breaking. “I won’t leave you.”

More tears flooded her eyes in response to the ragged vow. It felt like his heart was being crushed in a vise when her fingers squeezed his feebly, so weak. “Hang on to me,” he urged, wishing he could somehow infuse his own life force into her, trade his life for hers. “You have to hold on, baby. Please, I can’t do this without you.” His voice cracked on the last word but he didn’t care, and didn’t give a shit who heard him. All that mattered was Grace and making her hold on, keep fighting. He held her hand, fighting for every breath along with her, dying inside as he watched her suffer without being able to do anything to ease it.

He didn’t know how long they laid there before plastic-lined stretchers were brought out to load them onto. Alex refused to release Grace’s hand. Her eyes were closed now, that awful blue tinge around her lips scaring the fucking hell out of him. He was afraid if he let go, she would let go of the tenuous hold she had on life.

Thankfully Hunter and Gage acted as his advocates and convinced the EMTs not to separate them. Hunter’s grim face was the last thing he saw as they loaded him and Grace into the back of a specially outfitted ambulance. “We’ll see you later at the hospital, brother.”

Alex nodded and clung to Grace’s hand as two EMTs clambered into the back and someone slammed the rear doors shut. The vehicle took off, lights flashing and sirens blaring. Alex prayed they’d get to the hospital in time.

****

Grace woke cold, disoriented and alone in an alien world.

She lay in a hospital bed encased by a plastic tent, quarantined from anyone else at the medical facility they’d brought her to. She remembered Alex’s voice, the desperate look in his eyes as he’d begged her to hold on. Somehow, she had. But she was so afraid. Was he okay? She didn’t know how much of the sarin she’d been exposed to or how much she’d ingested, and being isolated from everyone else was frightening. She’d seen the victims of nerve gas attacks firsthand, but never imagined she’d be one herself someday.

Machines beeped and whirred softly around her. Her breathing seemed better and she was no longer vomiting, though a low grade nausea remained. Her head pounded and her eyes hurt. They’d washed her and changed her into a clean hospital gown. She remembered the feeling of absolute helplessness as her body had whacked out on her, exhibiting the classic SLUDGE symptoms that were the hallmark of a nerve gas attack: salivation, lacrimation, urination, defecation, gastrointestinal distress, emesis.

If Alex hadn’t raced after her and tackled her to administer the antidote, she’d have died at that airstrip. Suffocated right in front of him. He’d been exposed too, but probably to a lesser extent. And what about David? He’d gotten a larger dose of the gas than she had. He’d looked bad. Really bad the last time she’d seen him. When she’d realized she couldn’t drag him any farther without ingesting a lethal dose herself, she’d left him. Even though she was angry that he’d put her and the others in jeopardy by leaking the meeting details to the media, she still had to live with the knowledge that she’d been unable to save him.

The airlock made a sucking sound as someone opened the exterior door to the room she was in. Her heart beat faster as she stared at the suited figure who entered. As the individual came nearer her heart sank. It wasn’t Alex.

The nurse stopped at her bedside, unzipped the plastic barrier and stepped inside, zipping it up behind her. She was middle-aged and had a kind face. She took Grace’s hand and put her gloved fingers over her pulse point. “How are you feeling?”

Terrified. “Lucky to be alive.”

The nurse smiled. “That you are. Do you remember anything after your arrival?”

She shook her head. The last thing she vaguely remembered was the feel of Alex’s hand holding hers in the ambulance. “There was a man brought in with me. Do you know if—”

“The neurological team finished with their initial assessment a couple of hours ago. I saw on the monitor that you’d woken up and wanted to come in and let you know you’re not actually as alone as it seems.”

Grace gave a weak smile. “Thank you.” She opened her mouth to ask about Alex again but the woman continued.

“We’ve been giving you more doses of atropine to counteract the exposure. You’re doing very well.”

The airlock opened and more people dressed in protective suits entered. They converged around her talking about her vitals, treatment protocol and then three doctors conducted a series of neurological tests and assessments on her. By the time they finished she was so exhausted she could hardly keep her eyes open. They left her alone to doze.

Her eyes popped open sometime later at the sound of the airlock being opened. This time she lifted her head, a half sob of relief exploding from her when she recognized Alex. He wasn’t wearing a protective suit, just a surgical mask and gloves and he stripped the mask off as he unzipped the plastic wall that separated them.