Now, think. He turned to take in the situation. Crowds milled outside the hangar to the front, waiting for the drone light show. Local security—a handful of guys, mostly retired cops, or even ex-military soldiers who weren’t in the least prepared to be infected—milled around, looking for kids smoking cigarettes, the occasional pickpocket.

Colt was right. The last thing they needed was a hostage situation. Or a shootout.

And until Tae’s vaccine went through trials . . .

Colt’s heart issue might have been a factor in the negative outcome, but they couldn’t be completely sure.

Which left him and Dodge against who knew how many inside.

First, they needed eyes on the place. Ranger approached the door and looked inside. Dark, so the likelihood that a shooter might spot him was low. Still, he only took a quick look.

Inside, blue, red, and white lights flickered on and off as the drones bounced off each other, crashed against walls, or tangled together.

Like creepy flying spiders.

He leaned back, closing his eyes, imprinting the layout into his head.

Then he leaned in again and focused on the floor. Despite the shadows in his vision, he spied a couple of bodies—made out Colt’s form—bulky, moving deliberately against the far wall. Another form on his tail.

Tae?

Ranger tried the door handle, but it was still locked.

Again, he veered away, closed his eyes. Locked the layout of the room into his brain.

A final look, and this time he spotted movement against the back wall. A shadow. Hopefully not Dodge.

A shot sounded, and a muzzle flared against the veil of darkness.

Gotcha.

He closed his eyes and jerked back, hating the flare that now burned in his vision. But he had the room. And behind the guy, had spotted a door.

Their entry.

Ranger rounded the hangar, about to sprint for the back, and nearly plowed down Dodge.

His brother caught him, moved him away, and they spun in the grass.

“What—”

“I took out the electrical panel,” Dodge said, breathing hard. “But I couldn’t get in. Door’s locked.”

Ranger blinked at him. “Have you never breached a door?”

Dodge frowned at him. “Um, pilot. If you want, I can hijack a plane and we can drive it into the hangar. But I’m not a SEAL. I don’t breach things or blow things up or—”

“Fine. Whatever.” Ranger roughed a hand over his mouth. “As far as I can tell, there’s only one shooter, but there may be more. Tae is still in there, and so is Colt, and there’s about a hundred or more drones flying around like bees. My guess is that they’re deploying toxins as they crash into the walls. Or maybe even as they’re flying—who knows. Bottom line, it’s lethal in there but we still need to get in and shut this down.”