The shells from the rifles clinked against the floor from the rain of copper that descended upon the hallway. Sarah ducked and rolled, avoiding as much of the gunfire as possible, using the Kevlar she wore to help protect the parts of her that were exposed.
In between the flashes of light and darkness, she sped through the hall, bringing the guards into the crosshairs during both phases with a speed that made her look as though she were teleporting through the hallway. She counted three bullets as they collided into the Kevlar around her chest and stomach, the hard knock like a freight train with the pinpoint accuracy of a laser.
Four guards down, and Sarah ejected the magazine in her left pistol, reloading while her right pistol continued its assault and her feet maneuvered her into whatever open space she could get. Only ten more yards now. The left pistol reloaded, she caught the second-to-last guard in the chin, knocking him backward. The last guard watched his friend go down, taking his eye off her for only a second, but it was all the time she needed.
The next time the lights flashed red, the rifle in the guard’s hand was already ripped from his grip, and she had crushed his windpipe with the side of her hand. She found the keys on his belt as he gasped for breath and let him choke while she fiddled with the lock. In addition to the old-fashioned lock, there was a keypad. “I need a password encryption on this door, Bryce.”
“Eight six four seven five.”
Sarah typed the numbers in and turned the key, and the door popped open. When she saw the faces of Ella and Matt huddled behind Becca in the corner of the room, her heart flipped in her chest. “Thank god.” The words left her mouth like a whisper as she rushed over to them.
Becca gripped Sarah’s arm as if she was checking to make sure she was real. “Sarah? What? How did you get here?”
“Bryce, I need backup to my location now,” Sarah said.
“Jared’s on his way. ETA sixty seconds. Berry already has an exit route planned on route six.”
Both Ella and Matt wrapped their arms around her bent knees, resting their heads on top of her legs as the siren and lights continued their deafening alert. Becca reached for Sarah’s hands and held them together, her eyes watering with tears that fell in long crystal chains from her eyes.
“Becca, I know this is a lot to take in right now, but I need you to do everything I say, all right?” Becca couldn’t find the words, so she just nodded emphatically. Sarah turned her attention to the kids. “You guys okay?” They followed the same speechless cues from her mother. Sarah kissed the tops of both of their heads, and Jared entered, specks of blood on his face and chest.
“Jared,” Sarah said, “I need you to take them out of here now. Bryce already has a transport set up, and three more agents are waiting to meet you at exit point six.” She looked back down at the kids and smiled. “This is my friend Jared, guys, and he’s gonna take care of you, so I need you to listen to him. And stay close to your mom.” Again the children nodded, and Matt poked one of the bullets lodged into her Kevlar. Sarah cupped Becca’s cheeks in her hands. Becca’s face was still hysterical. “Becca, where’s Ben?”
“I-I-I don’t know. We saw him a few days ago, but I don’t know where they’ve been keeping him.” The thought of her husband caused her face to twist in despair. “You have to find him, Sarah. Bring him home.”
“I will.” Sarah helped her up and guarded their back as Jared took point, leading them through the hallways. Becca carried both children, and Sarah kept close to Becca. She’d jump in front of a bullet if she had to.
Once they made it to the exit point, a chopper was already waiting for them. The other agents had cleared out a secured area for the landing, and Sarah helped buckle Matt and Ella in. The whirl of the chopper’s blades flung their hair around in large, tangled strands. “I love you, guys. I’ll see you soon,” she shouted above the whine of the engine. She saw Becca mouth “thank you” as the chopper lifted into the air and disappeared. Once it was firmly in the distance, the flesh over Sarah’s knuckles turned white as her grip tightened around the steel-colored handles of her pistols. She marched back to the building, the rest of the agents following her. “My sister-in-law and the kids are clear. I’ll find my brother. Anyone you come across who’s not him, kill. But save Demps for me.”
The door to the hallway they’d just left flashed red and wailed its incessant whine. Sarah led the line of agents as they reentered the bowels of the beast, each of them yearning to carve out their own piece of revenge.
“I’m seeing a lot of movement on the third level,” Bryce said. “They have a transportation hangar up there. I’m betting that’s where Demps and your brother could be.”
“Copy that,” Sarah said. She found her way back to the staircase, smashing through the door and up the steps in the fluid motion of rising water. The number of rifles, bullets, or bodies stacked in front of her didn’t matter; she wouldn’t stop. She was a constant in a realm where variables changed in the blink of an eye.
The third level was thick with scum, and Sarah was tested in how quickly she could reload the .45s in her hand. She could feel the heat from the pistols radiate through her palms as she sifted through round after round, piercing Kevlar, flesh, metal—anything and everything that came into her crosshairs.
Then, standing at least a head above everyone else on the floor, she saw the same tall henchman making his way across the platform, holding her brother by the arm. Her brother had his hands cuffed behind his back.
“Ben!” Her voice cut through the bullets and screams, causing both parties to look at her. Confusion spread across Ben’s face, while a smile spread across the tall man’s.
“Go!” Jared said, appearing from behind her. “We’ll clean this up.”
Sarah sprinted around the transport carriers, parallel to where the man was dragging Ben. While their bodies disappeared through the flashes of choppers and vehicles, their feet remained a constant that she kept her eyes locked on. When she watched them pivot away from her, she made her dash through the awkward rows of helicopters. Her shoulders banged into the sides as she fought the rising sense of desperation within her. She wouldn’t be any good to her brother if she lost her wits. When Sarah made it to the other side, she could see the long hallway they entered, where no lights flickered on or off.
“Heat signature shows a couple of people on the other end,” Bryce said. “It opens up to a platform. Rick and your brother are out there.”
Sarah’s heart raced as she made her way through the shadows. The rays of sunlight from the other end finally broke through and illuminated her feet, then her knees, waist, chest, and face until she made it through the hallway and could see the chopper gearing for take off. Massive piles of crates were stacked in sporadic patterns around the platform. Then, through the glass of the helicopter, she could see Demps, the tall man, and her brother with a gun to his head.
“So good to see you again, Sarah,” Demps said. The voice echoed over the fading din of the sirens behind her. Demps was broadcasting over some sort of speaker system. The chopper’s blades twirled slowly in anticipation of takeoff.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Demps,” Sarah said.
“You know, it’s funny. I’ve spent so much time with your brother over the past few days that I feel like I’ve really gotten to know you and your family.”
The words twisted Sarah like a disease. She took a few steps forward, her mind going over the resources on her belt. If she fired at them, there wouldn’t be any doubt her brother’s life was over.
“I think my favorite story was the first time Ben here took you to the range.” Demps laughed, and so did the tall man. “Why, he said the pistol just flew out of your hand! You certainly have come a long way.”
Sarah kept up a slow pace, continuing to move forward as the chopper’s blades blew her hair back. She did her best to control the spasms in her arm. The heightened sense of awareness from the adrenaline was peaking to the point of overloading
her senses.
“I was so surprised to find out that Ben here had no idea of your work—your real work, I mean,” Demps said. “I don’t think he believed me until he saw you a little bit ago. I kept telling him how much of a pain you’ve been, but I kept saying how much I admired your tenacity.”
“Yeah, that’s what keeps popping up on my performance review,” Sarah said.
“Keep him talking,” Bryce said. “Backup heading your way in thirty seconds.”
“You know, when we hacked your servers, I actually got to read your latest performance review. Quite the agent, but it did appear to me that you had some issues.”
“Twenty seconds,” Bryce said. Sarah took a few more steps forward, her stomach turning into a slow, sour knot.
“What was it exactly that was said?” Demps tapped his finger over his lips and then smiled. “Ah, I remember! ‘Agent Hill displays a narcissistic attitude in the field that could put both her and other operatives in danger.’” Demps turned to her brother and fisted a cluster of his hair, and the tall man lowered the pistol to Ben’s back. “Just like this one.”
Everything happened at once. The bullet entering Ben, the spray of blood that appeared on the window, the chopper taking off, and the tall man dropping Ben’s body from six feet off the ground before the chopper disappeared into the sky.
Sarah unloaded everything she had, the bullets pinging off the bullet proof glass and thick armor, sprinting toward her brother, her face twisted in anger, grief, and pain. She pulled one of the C-4 explosives from her belt and chucked it at the helicopter, but before the explosive made it to its target, it detonated in midair, the chopper radiating some kind of frequency to protect it.
Sarah felt the heat from the blast above as she crashed to her knees, cradling her brother’s head in her lap. Blood had poured out of his stomach, and the fall had snapped his collarbone in half, the bone protruding from the skin and cloth. His mouth filled with blood, and he coughed up bits of red over his chin and chest. “Hang on, Ben.” She put pressure on the wound, her fingers squishing in the blood. “Bryce?” Her voice was rising to a shout.
“Medevac on the way.”
“Sarah,” Ben said, his voice coming out garbled and strained.
“Ben, try not to talk. Help is on the way. You’re gonna be fine.”
“I’m sorry.” Sarah looked at her brother and saw his head rolling back and forth on the ground. He struggled for air, and his face winced in pain. “I’m sorry for not talking to you about Mom and Dad more.”
Sarah’s lip quivered. She shook her head. “It’s okay”—her voice cracked—“I should have been there. I should have come. That was my fault. I’m sorry.”
Ben gave a half smile, the same one he had inherited from their dad. He held up his hand, and Sarah grasped it, her fingers sliding from the blood. “Take care of my family.” She kept a tight hold on his hand but could feel his fingers loosen.
“Ben?” Sarah asked, checking his pulse. “Ben. Ben!” She kept screaming his name. She placed her hands over his sternum and pushed, breaking his ribs, trying to pump the life back into him. “Please, Ben, don’t do this.” Her arms went rigid as she counted the number of compressions. “C’mon, Ben!” Tears rolled off her face and landed on her hands, mixing with her brother’s blood.
A team of medics arrived and peeled Sarah off him. She watched them swarm him, lift him onto a stretcher, and then load him into the chopper that had arrived. She ran alongside him, keeping hold of his hand through the group of medics working on him. She squeezed it, even though he didn’t squeeze back. She held his hand while they tried to resuscitate him. And she kept holding it when the medics pronounced him dead upon arrival at the hospital at 6:14 p.m.
13
Andrea was woken in the middle of the night by her chief of staff at 3:14 a.m. It was then that she learned the power grid had been turned back on. She quickly dressed, downed a pot of coffee, and entered the conference call with the other world leaders, who looked just as abruptly awoken as she did despite the time zone differences.
“When did we get the first breakthrough?” Andrea asked.
The American president was the first to speak. “Less than twenty minutes ago. It’s starting off small, but it looks like we’ve cracked the code. We’ll be testing it out on a few smaller grids to ensure that it’s legitimate. Once that happens, we’ll be passing along the information.”
Andrea rested her head on her arm for a moment, letting the relief of the news sink in. It was still a long road to recovery, but this was a definite step in the right direction. She looked back up and could see the same relief on all the faces around her. “What about the Chinese and Russians?”
“They’re still advancing on both the Pacific and Eastern European fronts,” the Japanese prime minister replied. “But we think they’ll scale back once everything comes back online.”
“Well,” Andrea said, recomposing herself, “until then, we’re still at war. I’ll meet with my generals immediately, and we’ll reconvene in a few hours.”
The faces nodded and agreed then disappeared, leaving Andrea and the American president alone. “My aide said you wanted to speak with me privately, Mr. President?” Andrea asked.
“We didn’t crack the code, Andrea. It was given to us.”
“What? By whom?”
“I think by the same organization that your mystery friend works for.”
“Were you able to trace the source from the drop-off?”
“No, but it doesn’t sit well with me that there is some organization that is a step ahead of us. I was hoping we could share our information, see what we could come up with.”
“You don’t really think that whoever gave you the code is a threat, do you?”
“I won’t know that until I find out who they are, and until then, I will treat them like all potential threats. With caution.”
“Of course, Mr. President.”
The call ended, and Andrea leaned back in her chair, the coffee barely holding her together. Her wits were fried, along with her body. But she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that the woman she’d met after the summit was on her side. Her instincts had been right. But despite the mystery woman’s recent acts, she was now a target of investigation by the force that was the United States. Andrea needed to find the woman before the Americans did.
Sarah paced back and forth outside the small hospital room where Becca and the kids sat, waiting to hear anything about Ben—their father, their husband, their family. Sarah had been outside that door for almost thirty minutes. She wanted to be the one to tell them, but she had no idea what to say. She knew the moment she opened that door, their world would be shattered.
Finally, with her stomach and heart seemingly switching places back and forth in her body, Sarah grabbed the door handle with a shaky hand and stepped inside. Ella and Matt rushed over to her and wrapped their little bodies ceremoniously around her legs, as they were accustomed to greeting her, and Sarah gave them pats on the heads.
But when Sarah looked at Becca, her face red and her eyes puffy, no words came out. And the moment she couldn’t form the words, Becca knew what that meant. She burst into tears, losing whatever strength was left in her, and collapsed to the ground. Both her children peeled themselves off Sarah’s legs and rushed to their mother, where they cried with her without knowing why.
Becca clutched her children in her arms, pulling them to her chest. She breathed in heavy sobs, trying to control herself as she focused on soothing her kids. She stroked their heads, whispering that everything was okay. With her eyes still watering, she rose to her feet.
Sarah stood there, her arms out in a helpless stance, still unable to speak, unable to say anything to help ease the pain that her family was going through at that moment. Becca took a few steps forward, and Sarah finally managed to form sounds. “Becca, I’m so sorry.”
The crack that sounded from the slap of Becca’s hand against Sarah’s cheek sent
a shock of silence that permeated everything in the room—the walls, the chairs, their bodies. All that remained were the lingering burn of flesh across Sarah’s cheek and the light-red imprint of Becca’s hand. Without another word, Becca grabbed both her kids and left Sarah alone in the room.
Sarah brought her hand to her cheek gently, feeling the heat from the slap. Her mind raced to process everything, running through different scenarios of the past hour until it brought her to the present. Her legs felt weak, and she collapsed to the ground, her hands grabbing at nothing but air, forming fists. Slow, rolling sobs escaped her. They were painful, gut wrenching. Everything came out, everything she’d let herself hold in. Then the sobs and cries turned into screams. Her face flushed red, her throat turned raw, and the veins in her neck pulsed with every blood-curdling shriek that left her voice until there was nothing but raw, angry whispers.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there—time seemed to stand still—but when she finally rose, she felt a shift in her body, in her mind.
“Sarah?” Bryce asked, his voice as soft as a whisper. “I’m… I don’t…”
Sarah’s entire body trembled. Her fists clenched at her sides. Her jaw tightened, hot spit flying from her mouth as the words left her like venom being purged from a wound. “His clock is ticking. He’s a dead man. Find him for me, Bryce.” She stepped through the doorway and marched through the hospital. “Find the fucking prick.”
Agent Hill: Reboot
Chapter 1
Four Months Ago
Dust devils swirled the orange-brown sand in tiny, menacing cyclones in the fastness that was the Iraq desert. Nothing but rolling, shifting sand as far as the eye could see, with the sun piercing through the blue sky and casting its heat over whatever living things existed in the harsh environment. Aside from herself, Sarah couldn’t see anything except the occasional scorpion. “This convoy knows I have somewhere to be tomorrow, right?”
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