She knew what real love looked like, even if Colt couldn’t say it. Commitment. Protection. Kindness. Helping her be the person she longed to be.

“Flo, you’re one of the bravest people I know.”

Hardly, but she knew that she refused to let Sergei win. Because it wasn’t hard to do the math. She was pretty smart, and she knew exactly what was in those drones.

The air show was full of families and military and was the perfect place to release the smallpox. Most of the tourists would head to Disney World, and really, with an incubation and contagion period of twelve days, and a twelve-hour window of death once the symptoms started, it was every epidemiologist’s nightmare.

Every terrorist’s dream.

She refused to look too far ahead.

Focus.

Because if Tae didn’t stop Sergei, no one could.

And that’s when Noemi entered her head with her story about the zip ties. “You pull out even as you force your hands down. It’s not hard once you get the hang of it.”

Tae had kept her eyes closed, playing it out in her mind. Planning. No, not planning—stirring up her courage.

Sergei had stepped away from her, possibly believing that he’d knocked her out. A quick peek and she spotted him at a bench, with a computer.

Getting ready to deploy the drones, now lit up and humming.

Her gaze tracked to the door opener, near the back door.

He shifted, and she closed her eyes. Counted her heartbeats.

Now.

She exploded. Rolled to her feet, brought her hands down, hard, and apparently God was generous in handing out the miracles, because the ties snapped.

Around her, the drones started whirring.

No!

She took off for the door opener.

Sergei looked up, but she was focused. Fast. She hit the wall and slammed her hand on the door opener.

The door began to close.

“Stop!” Sergei’s voice, behind her. She put up her hands to protect her face just as his fist came at her.

The lights blinked out.

The doors collapsed.

Darkness, but not so dark that Sergei’s fist didn’t find home. Pain exploded in her ear.

She grunted and fell.

But on her knees, despite the world spinning, she moved. Her reflexes saved her from a kick that glanced off her and mostly hit the wall.

She scooted away, clamping down on her scream, her breaths. Past him, along the wall, she kept her head down.

The drones had spun to life, gone airborne, the room alive with the buzz of flying spiders.

“I will find you, Taylor.”

The gunshot stopped her. It pinged against the wall, hitting one of the workbenches, echoing through the building.

She screamed.

Keep moving!

She crawled to a workbench, found a pocket, and wedged herself in, drawing up her knees.

Now, she held her breath. Only Sergei’s computer hummed, light splashing out into the swarthy darkness.