detention area was going to be up to the strike team.
Murphy glanced through the Plexiglas wall to the other side. Of the five guards, four were standing in front of their assigned cells, their eyes forward. The guard closest to the wall, though, was looking in Murphy’s direction, clearly confused. Murphy’s job now was to sell that this was only a medical emergency, not some forerunner to something more disastrous.
He knelt beside the dead guard, pretending first to take his pulse, then talk to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the lights for the elevator indicate it was moving down. When the car was approximately ten seconds from arriving, Murphy jumped up and ran over to the phone at the guard’s desk near the door. As he’d hoped, the curious guard’s gaze followed him, so the man did not see the elevator doors open.
Murphy, on the other hand, was positioned perfectly, and saw with more than a little relief that it was the strike team, not Bluff security. Three canisters billowing smoke slid into the room. Within seconds, everything on Murphy’s side of the Plexiglas wall was hidden.
Murphy held his position as the others made their way to him. In addition to the gas masks they were all wearing, each had a pair of thermal goggles that allowed them to see heat signatures through the smoke. As he knew she would be, Karie was in the lead.
“Any problems?” she asked.
“None. You?”
“All secured. Door unlocked?”
He nodded.
Karie and four members of her team positioned themselves in the smoke a few feet from the door. A sixth man stood next to the handle.
“Everyone ready?” Karie asked.
The men standing with her raised their guns, each pointing at a different target they could see with their special gear. Karie lifted her own pistol.
“On three. One. Two. Three.”
As she spoke the last word, the man at the door pulled it open, and the five holding guns opened fire.
“Hold,” Karie said three seconds later, but it was unnecessary. None of them had had to take more than two shots. The guards, unable to see the shooters because of the smoke, had no idea they were being targeted.
With Karie still leading, Murphy and the strike team entered the detention area, the last through shutting the door to keep the excess smoke from billowing in.
Karie pulled her goggles off and looked at Murphy. “Which one?”
“Over here. Number eleven.” He led her to the door of cell eleven. “It’s open.”
“Wait here,” she told everyone, and pulled the door open.
__________
O LIVIA SAT ON the edge of her bed, watching the cell door. For the longest time it remained closed, but she was patient. She knew these kinds of things took time.
The question running through her mind was who, exactly, was coming. She knew for sure someone was. She’d been left a message telling her that much.
When she heard the guard standing outside her cell slam against the wall and slide to the floor, she allowed herself a smile, but when the door opened a moment later, her face was once more neutral.
The light from the outer area was brighter than it was in the cell, so at first all she could see was the silhouette of a woman. It wasn’t until the door closed again that her visitor’s face emerged from the darkness.
“Hello, Karie,” Olivia said.
“Olivia.” Karie took a few tentative steps into the room, then stopped. “Have…have they treated you well?”
“Three meals, a bed, TV when they’re feeling nice. Well enough, I guess.”
The women silently studied each other.
“So,” Olivia said. “Who sent you? The directorate? Dr. Karp?”
“Dr. Karp is dead.”
Olivia cocked her head. “When?”
“Last spring.”
“NB7?”
Karie’s brow furrowed slightly. “Yes. How did you know?”
Olivia shook her head like it wasn’t important. So the help she gave Ash had worked. It would have been nice if someone had told her. “The directorate sent you, then.”
“I’m…no longer
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