Seconds later, they stepped through the opening the grenade had created in the wall of the server room, into a corridor lined with offices. Soldiers in body armor stood at both ends of the hall. They dashed across the hall into the closest office, and Desmond ran to the floor-to-ceiling window.

They were on the second floor; Desmond estimated about a fifteen-foot drop. Doable, but it would hurt—and probably break a few things. He raised his gun, fired two rounds into the glass.

“Are you crazy?” Avery snapped.

“Yes. He is.”

They turned to find Conner McClain in the doorway.

“You disappoint me, Avery.”

Desmond moved in front of the woman, shielding her. He knew Conner wouldn’t harm him. And he knew why.

Chapter 119

Chapter 119

William crept through the room, peering around the servers, moving as quickly as he dared. It reminded him of playing hide-and-seek as a child in a large library in London. But this game was more deadly.

The smoke was thick now. He could see only a few feet in front of him. The aftermath of the explosion had brought calm. He desperately hoped Desmond and Avery were outside the building by now. He had picked off two soldiers advancing on their opening, and that had driven the rest back, into the smoke.

He moved around another cage, listened, heard nothing except for the scattered debris falling and the pop of electrical circuits blowing. Gas issued from the overhead nozzles in about half the room.

If memory served him, he was close to the exit—three rows away.

He moved to another row, paused, waited. Then another. He was almost out. He desperately wanted to activate his comms—to tell the Marine and Navy SEAL forces to execute a diversion and for Jamison to move in, but the comms still didn’t work.

Too late, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned, but the man was already on top of him, knocking him to the ground. Another soldier joined him, and in seconds they had bound William’s hands.

They raised him roughly to his feet, then walked him out of the server room, through the halls, and onto the elevator. It reminded William of that night in Rio, when the thugs had hauled him out of the taxi and marched him through the favela. He had saved Yuri and Lin’s lives that night; they had been captives of a madman, kept confined in a dirty back room of a shanty house. Now he was the captive.

They exited the elevator on the fourth floor and marched him to a room with a piece of equipment that reminded William of an MRI machine, except far larger.

It’s true. They’ve done it, he thought.

A voice William knew well came over the speaker. “Scan him and bring him to me. Quickly.”