The first sound wasn't a scream. It was the wet, heavy thud of a human body hitting the concrete ceiling.
Then, the rifles opened up.
In the pitch black of the subterranean corridor, the muzzle flashes acted like a violent, stuttering strobe light. Jane flattened her spine against the freezing wall. Her heart rate was a steady, metronomic one-twenty. She didn’t cover her ears. She didn’t squeeze her eyes shut. That was how you died in the dark.
She kept her eyes wide open, using the explosive bursts of light to map the c*****e.
Flash. A guard’s tactical vest ripped open like wet paper, Michael’s bare hand buried deep in the man’s ribcage.
Flash. A silver-loaded rifle bent entirely in half.
Flash. Blood spraying in a horizontal arc, painting the gray walls black.
The air instantly ch
