him across the lobby. The sound of bones snapping brought Cliff joy as the fucker hit the wall. Leaping across, Cliff caught him before he hit the floor and hurled him at the granite desk.
More crunches and snaps. Blood spewed from the man’s mouth and trailed down his face as he collapsed in a heap.
Sharp pain erupted in Cliff’s neck.
His head swam. The voices in his head slowed, slurred, and stuttered to a halt.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” someone—was that Todd?—shouted.
Staggering, Cliff reached up and found something protruding from his flesh at the nape of his neck. He yanked it out. His balance wavered as he stared down at a tranquilizer dart.
His arm fell to his side. The dart clattered to the floor. He lurched backward a step.
A few feet away, Whetsman moaned.
Cliff sank to his knees.
Finish him off, a drunken voice mumbled in his head.
The warm blood saturating Cliff’s clothing cooled beneath a ceiling fan that rotated lazily above him.
He shivered.
All strength deserting him, he collapsed onto his side.
Pain careened through his head when it rebounded off the hard floor.
Blood rattled in his lungs as he struggled to breathe.
The entrance of the building… the door that led outside to sunshine and blessed oblivion… was the last thing Cliff saw before darkness enveloped him.
Emma’s knee bobbed up and down as she stared at her computer screen without seeing it.
Something had happened. Something big. Something bad. She just didn’t know what.
An hour ago the network’s alarm had begun to wonk, wonk, wonk, startling the crap out of her. A male had spoken over the intercom, issuing a shelter in place order. Then a loud rumble had echoed up the elevator shaft.
Screams erupted from the stairwell. Seconds later a few bodies ran past her closed door.
Emma thought she caught the snicks of suppressed gunfire and broke out in a cold sweat.
Were mercenaries attacking again?
Fearing the worst, she ducked under her desk and exchanged her pumps for the running shoes she always kept on hand now. Then she waited, heart pounding in her chest, hands shaking.
The alarm ceased blaring.
Mr. Reordon’s voice came over the intercom. “Attention, all personnel. Thank you for your patience and cooperation. A security breach took place that required our immediate attention. It has now been resolved. The threat has been neutralized. And all is well. You no longer need to shelter in place. Be advised, however, that as a purely precautionary measure, the building will temporarily remain on lockdown. I will notify you as soon as the lockdown is lifted.”
What the hell had happened? He’d said nothing in the hour since, so she assumed they were still on lockdown.
Emma tried and failed to concentrate on the task at hand.
When knuckles suddenly rapped on her door, she jumped about a foot. “Come in.”
Cynthia poked her head in, her face somber. After glancing over her shoulder, she ducked inside, closed the door, and crossed to seat herself in the chair on the other side of the desk.
The grim look on her friend’s face made everything within Emma go still. Her knee stopped bobbing. For a moment she even forgot to breathe. “What is it?” she asked, unable to bear the silence.
“Todd just texted me.”
“What happened? Did mercenaries attack? Is Todd okay?”
“It wasn’t mercenaries. And he’s okay. He wasn’t injured. But, honey…” She bit her lip and shook her head.
“What?” Emma prodded, so tense she wanted to scream.
“Todd said Cliff had a psychotic break.”
Alarm set Emma’s heart to pounding. She gripped the edge of her desk, holding on so tight it was a wonder her blunt fingernails didn’t score the wood. “Is he…?”
“He isn’t dead,” Cynthia told her. “But it was a bad one. He attacked one of the doctors.”
Oh no. “Was it Dr. Lipton?”
“No.” Her brow furrowed. “I think his name started with a W.”
Whetsman. Anger rose. That bastard was always antagonizing Cliff.
“Apparently Cliff really tore into him. I mean, he beat the shit out of him. And the guards had to shoot Cliff multiple times to get him to let the doctor go. Todd said he might have brain damage.”
Tears blurred Emma’s vision, then trailed down her cheeks when she blinked. “Cliff?”
“No. Whetsman.” Cynthia shook her head, her features full of regret as sympathetic tears welled in her eyes. “Todd said Cliff was crazed, Emma. That he also injured some guards.” Every word cut like a knife. “A lot of them. They had to sedate him to… to bring him under control again and keep him from killing the