I kept my attention on the Basilisk, knowing he was wavering. “If you think I’m bluffing, you’re sadly mistaken,” I lied, and gestured to the vessels surrounding us. “I know when I’m beat. And the way I see it, I’m already dead. But you know what I have no problem with? Taking you down with me. And hey...” My thumb reached up and pulled back the hammer with an ominous, metallic click. “If I have to die, I’d rather give her a clean death, right now, then let the Elder Wyrm win. But it’s your move, Luther. What’s it gonna be?”

Luther glared at me, fear and hate warring in his eyes. But after a long moment, his shoulders slumped and he stepped away, barking an order to the clones. The vessels straightened, lowering their guns in perfect unison, and the Basilisk jerked his head at the door.

“Go,” he snarled. “But this isn’t over. There is nowhere in the world you can hide. Nowhere for you and your little underground of traitors to be safe. We will find you, and we will purge your stain from the face of the earth. You’re only delaying the inevitable.”

I would’ve said something snarky, but at the moment I was too relieved. Still keeping my arms around Ember, and the gun pressed below her chin, I jerked my head at the rest of them, and we began walking toward the metal doors.

“Don’t follow us,” I told the Basilisk as we passed. “If I even suspect we’re being tailed, or that a Viper is out there waiting to snipe us in the head, I will have no problem pulling the trigger. We walk away clean, and no one in the organization tries to follow until we are completely gone.”

Luther gave me a flat stare, but nodded tightly. St. George threw open the metal door, and I dragged Ember through the frame, out of the building and into the sunlight.

Mist and the soldier followed at my heels. Through the door lay a flat, empty parking lot, surrounded by lawn, trees and concrete. In the distance, past another set of buildings, I could see the tree line that marked the security fence, but I had no idea how we were going to get to it.

“Mist,” I growled, glancing at the silver-haired Basilisk at my shoulder. “Where to now?” I felt highly exposed, knowing that just a few yards away, the most powerful dragon in the world was watching us through a pair of thin glass doors. “How do we get out of here? And I hope you had a better plan than ‘on foot.’”

“Give it a second,” Mist said, gazing around the lot. “He knew the plan was set into motion. He should be...there.”