“I didn’t spend four months in that hellhole to walk away empty-handed,” Zack said.
“And I don’t feel like having to bury another agent!”
Zack closed his eyes briefly at the mention of Alisa but said nothing.
“Pull out now,” Shaw snapped, “or I swear I’ll bring charges against you.”
“We’re going into the prison tonight.”
“Damn it, Devlin, that’s a suicide mission. Don’t do it.”
“I thought you should know in case we don’t come out. We’re going for the big dogs, Avery, and big dogs bite.”
“You connected someone at the top?”
“Yeah, and we’re going to bring them down.”
“We? For God’s sake, don’t tell me you’re talking about Emily Monroe.”
Zack had anticipated Shaw figuring out he and Emily were working together, but it didn’t make him feel any less a fool. “Don’t do anything that will get us killed, Avery.”
“I’ll leave the getting killed part up to you!” Shaw shot back. “You know there are two other operatives in the prison. They can help if you get into a tight spot.”
Zack figured he was already in as tight a spot as a man could be and not get squeezed to death. “As far as you know, one of them is the mole.”
“No way.”
“Do me a favor and don’t bet my life on it, okay?”
“I’m going to personally bring charges against you when I get my hands on you.”
“If I’m still alive, it’s a deal.” Knowing the other man had already begun tracing the call, Zack smiled and disconnected.
Chapter Sixteen
“Who was that?” Emily asked when he got back into the Jeep.
“An old friend.”
“Odd time for you to call an old friend.”
Zack said nothing and he didn’t meet her gaze.
“If you’re trying to be subtle about evading my question, you’re not doing a very good job of it.”
“Let’s just say he’s a friend who’s good at picking up the pieces.”
She thought about that for a moment and tried not to let it frighten her. “We’re not going to need anyone to pick up the pieces because we’re not going to get caught.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“I mean it, Zack. We can be in and out in twenty minutes—”
“If some corrections officer walks in on us with a shotgun, it’s over,” he said angrily.
Emily stared at him, aware that her pulse was up, that she was frightened and uncertain and sud
denly having second thoughts about what they were about to do.
“I made that call because if we don’t get out of there tonight, I don’t want Underwood or Carpenter or anyone else getting away with our murders.”
A queasy shudder moved through her. “You don’t think we’re going to make it out.”
“I think we’re bloody insane,” he said and rammed the Jeep into gear.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Emily slid out of the Jeep into knee-deep snow. They had parked on a narrow back road a couple of miles from the prison. “Why are we stopping here?”
“Unless you want to tango with the perimeter patrol guards, we cover the last two miles on foot,” he said.
Emily had been scared plenty of times in her life. Having spent the last three years working as a corrections officer in a high-security prison, she’d learned to work through her fears. Staring down at the lights of the prison in the valley below, she’d never been scared like this before. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. She couldn’t discuss it with Zack because she knew there was nothing he’d like better than to turn around and leave if only to keep her out of the line of fire. That was the one thing she could not allow.
“We approach from the south,” he was saying.
Emily looked over at him. Even in the darkness
she could see that his expression was grim. He was staring at her, his mouth pulled into a thin line, his jaws clenched tight.
“We use the trees for cover,” she managed.
“I cut the fence in the northwest corner.”
“That’s right beneath the guard tower—”
“Where they can’t see us,” he cut in.
“But how are we going to get from the guard tower to the main building?”
He looked up at the sky. “I believe Mother Nature is going to give us a hand.”
Emily blinked, not understanding. Then it dawned on her that it was snowing. He was planning to use the snowfall as cover.
“How do you know the snow is going to continue?” she asked.
“I don’t.” He stared at her for an instant. “I’d feel a hell of a lot better about this if you stayed here with the Jeep.”
She didn’t miss the worry carved into his every feature. Emily hated being responsible for it, but there was no way she could sit this out and let him go in alone. “I’m going in with you,” she said.
His jaw flexed, and he looked quickly over his shoulder. “In that case, we’d better get going.”
Zack set a swift pace, and even though Emily was in top physical condition, she had a difficult time keeping up with him. He took her down a steep ravine, through a forest of sapling ponderosa pines, a frozen creek and at last to the edge of the open meadow where the prison had been built.
In a matter of minutes he had the coil of concertina wire cut. “We’re going to sprint along the line of trees that runs along the driveway,” he said. “From there we take cover beneath the tower. No more talking. Follow my hand signals from here on out. Got it?”
Emily nodded, but she could feel her entire body vibrating with a combination of adrenaline and fear and the daunting knowledge that if either of them made a mistake now, it would cost them their lives.
“Let’s go.”
The snow was falling heavily as they sprinted alongside the row of trees. Emily ran as fast as she could, staying slightly behind Zack, conscious that he kept himself squarely between her and the guard tower fifty yards away.
They reached the tower without incident. The base of the tower was cinder block. A blue steel door led to the interior and, she assumed, a stairwell that led to the observation deck. Taking her hand, Zack led her to the north side of the building—away from the door—and pressed her to the cinder block. “So far, so good,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder.
Emily was about to push off when he turned to her. His eyes latched onto hers and held. Within their depths she saw all the same emotions that had been raging through her own mind in the last minutes. Fear of discovery. Worry for someone she cared for deeply.
When his gaze flicked to her mouth, she knew he
was going to add one more emotion to the mix. Then he was crushing his mouth to hers. A hot spike of desire drove right through the middle of her. Even through the fear and adrenaline she could feel her body responding. Every nerve ending tingled with the heady sensation of being kissed by Zack Devlin. She could feel her muscles quivering, her mouth seeking his, her body beginning to ache.
When he pulled away, his eyes were black and intense, his pupils dilated with passion. Brushing his hand along her face, he gave her a half smile. “Let’s go.”
They crossed the courtyard at a reckless speed. Snow stung her face and eyes. Emily was mindful of the spotlights flashing on the building to her left. They stopped in the alcove just outside the side entrance to the cafeteria and skidded to a halt.
“Which door?” Zack whispered, but his eyes were scanning the alcove, darting to the courtyard beyond.
“There’s a door the nutritionist and her staff use. Near the cafeteria. It should be deserted this time of night.”
“Where?”
She pointed. “Right. About twenty yards down.”
“Let’s move.”
He followed her directions and soon they were standing outside a steel door painted an institutional blue. Zack turned toward the courtyard while Emily swiped her security card, then went to work on the code. Seconds later the locks clanged.
“They didn’t change the codes,” she said. “We’re in.”
“God help us.”
They entered the kitchen, a massive room chock-full of gleaming stainless-steel counters, matching sinks and a massive freezer and refrigeration unit. The lighting was dim, but Emily could see well enough to make her way down the aisle.
“Nice kitchen,” Zack commented.
“Only the best for Lockdown, Inc.” She took him past a set of stainless-steel ovens built into the wall, then to the door that would take them to the corridor leading to the main building. “Where do you—”
Her words were cut off abruptly when the door swung open. Emily gasped when she found herself face-to-face with a corrections officer.
“Monroe?”
He looked at her as if she had come back from the dead. “What are you doing here?”
She couldn’t remember his name. He was new. Fresh out of the police academy, but he hadn’t made the cut, if she remembered correctly. Alan. Or Andrew. “Oh, hi,” she said, wondering where Zack had disappeared to.
“I thought you were—”
He didn’t have the chance to finish the question. Zack plowed into him from the side and took him to the ground. The officer made a feeble attempt to regain control but in a flash Zack had the nylon restraint off the man’s belt and his hands cuffed behind his back.
“Hand me that towel,” Zack said.
Emily’s heart was still in her throat as she snatched the towel off a rack and passed it to him.
“Sorry about this, mate.” Zack stuffed the towel in the man’s mouth and knotted it at the back of his head. Rising, he then dragged the officer to a nearby pantry, dropped him inside and closed the door.
“Cooks are going to have quite a surprise when they open the pantry door and find Barney Fife instead of their pancake mix,” he said.
Emily pressed a hand to her stomach. “My God, Zack, what if he’d been more experienced and gotten to his weap—”
“He didn’t,” Zack snapped.
They faced each other. Emily knew he wouldn’t admit it, but she could see that the incident had shaken him. She could feel the tension coming off him. And for the first time she admitted to herself that coming here was a mistake. They were outmanned and outgunned. She figured the odds didn’t get much worse.
“I should have listened to you,” she said.
Reaching out, he set his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “We’re going to be okay.”
Her gaze clashed with his. “If something happens to you, it’s my fault.”
“This is nobody’s fault except the monsters running this place.” Giving her shoulders a final squeeze, he looked toward the door. “Can you get us into Underwood’s office?”
“I think so.”
“What about Carpenter’s?”
“Two doors down from Underwood’s.”
Zack must have seen something in her eyes because he tilted his head and looked at her closely. “What?”
“We have to pass by the infirmary to get there.” A new thread of worry curled in her gut. “It’s manned 24-7.”
“We’ve got to try.” He grimaced. “If something goes wrong, I want you in those tunnels. No looking back. You got that?”
There was no way she would ever leave him behind. She started to nod, to appease him, but he suddenly grasped her arms and gave her a gentle shake. “Promise me, Emily,” he growled. “Damn it. I mean it.”
She stared into his eyes and wondered if he had any idea how much she had come to care for him. “I promise,” she said.
He gave her a smile, but it held little humor. “Well, then, let’s do a little breaking and entering and see what we can find.”
Taking her hand, he pulled her through the door and into the corridor. They jogged at a fast clip, their boots muffling their steps on the tile. At the end of the hall, Emily started toward the elevator, but Zack pulled her into the stairwell, and they went down the stairs to the lower level.
The basement was cold and dimly lit. A sign on the wall read: Infirmary. An arrow beneath the word pointed to the right. They were three-quarters down the hall when a scream stopped them dead in their
tracks. It was a sound of terror and agony rolled into a single horrific sound. A man reduced to an animal.
“Oh, no.” Emily glanced at Zack. “My God, what are they doing to him?”
His face was filled with disgust. “The bastards are testing their poison on some convict because he’s bloody convenient and free of charge.”
Another scream shattered the silence. A high-pitched wail. “My God, Zack, we have to help him.”
She started down the hall. An instant later Zack’s fingers bit into her shoulder. Knowing he was going to try to stop her, Emily spun on him, ready to fight.
The look in his eyes took the fight right out of her. “We can’t let them torture a human being to death,” she said.
“We’re not going to be any help to him if we’re dead,” Zack said firmly.
Another agonizing scream punctuated his words. Unable to keep herself from it, Emily put her hands over her ears. “I can’t stand it.”
“You rush in there unarmed and with some half-baked idea of saving that poor bastard and you’ll end up strapped to a gurney yourself.”
Zack squeezed her arms. “Listen to me. We need to stick to our plan. It’s the only way to help these men.”
Blinking back tears, she concentrated on pulling herself together.
“We need to get into Underwood’s or Carpenter’s office,” Zack said. “We don’t have much time.”
Giving herself a hard mental shake, Emily stepped
away from him and pointed down the long hall. “Dr. Lionel’s office is one level up.”
“Let’s start there.”
IT TOOK ZACK LESS THAN thirty seconds to pick the lock. Once inside Dr. Lionel’s office, he went directly to the desk and began to ransack it. He could hear Emily paging through the files in a nearby cabinet. In the last drawer he searched, he found what he was looking for.
“Look at this,” he said, pulling a bound notebook from its nest.
Emily left the file cabinet and crossed to him. “What is it?”
“Diary of a madman,” he said dryly.
She leaned close to read the handwritten notes of how each individual convict had reacted to the RZ-902.
Patient A-4922B, thirty-six-year-old male, 180 lbs., 5’11”. Patient was placed in the chamber at approximately 3:03. By 3:04, the RZ-902 had begun to work. Intense discomfort was observed, followed by skin lesions, bleeding from the nose and mouth and eyes. Four minutes into the treatment the patient suffered respiratory arrest and was rendered unconscious. Death occurred one minute later….