Chapter Twenty-two

Stryker

Stryker looked at the map of the facility. He'd memorized every entry and exit point. He'd left nothing to chance. He'd be returning with John, or he wouldn't be returning. The team had gathered for their final briefing before they breached the building. Other government agencies—like the Feds—would be waiting for the all-clear before coming in. There was less chance for collateral damage that way.

The plan was not to leave much for anyone to clean up. If the team blew it to bits as planned, along with all the low-life scientists and researchers, it would solve alotof problems.

"We're set," Brick said. "We'll search for John and the other prisoners. All hostiles to be treated with extreme prejudice as necessary to subdue or render the area secure."

In other words, shoot them if you have to. Stryker was all for that. These bastards had fucked with the wrong people, and there was no coming back from that. This was the Noah Group's big realization moment.

***

John

John jolted awake. He looked around, wondering what had woken him. His cell was dark, so he looked through the walls into the cells beside him. Mrs. Greer was still lying in her bed. Frank was also awake, so John touched the wall, and Frank did the same.

Something wasn't right.

"Frank, no matter what happens, when we get out of these cells, you need to stay close to me, understand?" John urged.

The boy nodded. "We will leave this place together."

Emergency lights flickered on, but soon they went out as well.It has to be the team. They're here and coming for me. For us.He heard the first pops of gunfire.

"My friends are here, Frank. Don't be afraid—they're here to get us out."

More gunfire exploded. This time much closer to their cells. He heard footsteps running down the halls and watched as people passed the cell doors. Likely the guards were making a run for it like rats deserting a sinking ship. John knew it was best to stay where they were.

Stryker would find him.

***

Stryker

"Taking fire," Fletcher reported over the comms. "Looks like the bastards are shooting as they're running toward the back of the building."

"We'll cut them off from the second level," Gator stated.

Stryker kept going in the direction of John's tracker. He unerringly followed the dot on the screen. Bullets ricocheted off the wall behind him, and he dove for cover through an open doorway. Quickly he turned and returned fire, identifying two masked men across a room full of cages. He remembered what it felt like to be put in a cage. Fuckers were treating the prisoners like wild animals. With a quick reposition, he moved seamlessly to a second room and fired on the two Noah guards.

He didn't miss—he never did—and they went down. Stryker continued down the hall, checking every room he came to. More gunfire erupted behind him.

"Second group dug in on the third floor," Brick reported.

"On my way," Shaw answered.

"Got two hostiles firing rifles in my sights," Gunner stated from his perch above the action. Seconds later. "Two down."

Stryker crouched low and scanned the room ahead. He could make out a row of metal doors. They had to be the cells he'd been looking for. The tracker led him to the second door. Using a modified bolt cutter, he easily snapped the padlock and threw open the door.

His relief was instantaneous as his night vision goggles located John standing against the wall. He didn't even have time to say John's name before the man crossed the room and melted into his arms. "Stryker. I knew you'd come for me."

"Nothing could stop me," he stated, handing John a replacement inhaler.

"There are six prisoners in these cells. We have to free them," John explained.

"Found the prisoners," Stryker reported into the comms. "West side of the building, second floor."

"On our way," Brick responded.

"We have to get to Frank," John said.

"Frank?" Stryker asked.

"He's a young boy in the cell next to me. He comes with me. I swore to protect him."

"We'll get him," Stryker said as he handed John an extra Glock. "Let's unlock these cells."

As John watched for approaching attackers, Stryker quickly cut the locks on the remaining cells.

All the prisoners came out except for Frank. John went into his cell to find the boy huddled in the corner. Stryker held a flashlight so he could see his way in.

"It's okay, Frank. This man is my friend. He's come to get us out of here," John said, and held out his hand to help the boy to his feet.

The young boy grabbed on tight, and John led him out the door and into the hallway, where Stryker was positioned with the other prisoners.

He heard more footsteps coming their way, and instinctively, Stryker lifted his rifle as John shoved Frank behind him to protect him.

"Identify yourself," Stryker ordered.

"Comm One," the team leader announced, and Stryker lowered his gun.

Brick, Fletcher, and Conor came around the corner in full combat mode, rifles at the ready.

"These are my friends," Stryker heard John explaining to the prisoners. One older gentleman in a dress shirt looked like he wanted to question him further, but one scowl from Stryker had the guy swallowing whatever he intended to say. This wasn't time for a damned Q and A.

"The situation is still fluid," Brick said. "The Feds are rounding up anyone who makes it out of the building. We still have hostiles unaccounted for."

"We have six prisoners. All appear able to walk, but one is elderly with a cane," Stryker advised. "I can carry her."

"Copy that. We need to move to a safer location. I'll lead, Conor and Fletcher will cover the rear, and Stryker will carry the lady and stay with the prisoners in the middle of the unit."

Stryker looked at John. "Hold on tight to Frank's hand no matter what and use that gun if you have to. No second thoughts."

John nodded, and Stryker walked up to the elderly lady. "Ma'am." He lifted her into his arms. She gave a tiny squeak but smiled wide.

"It's been a long time since a man has carried me anywhere," she said. "And my name is Lori."

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'll keep you safe," Stryker assured, making Lori's smile even wider. John couldn't have loved his partner more than at that moment.

"Let's move out," Brick ordered as new gunfire broke out from somewhere behind them.

"We have hostiles headed in your direction," Gunner announced. "I'm relocating for a better angle."

"Why don't they just give up?" the middle-aged female asked. "And leave us alone."

"It'll be okay. Just keep moving," Stryker answered. "You'll be somewhere safe soon."

Stryker walked behind John and Frank, Fletcher and Conor at his rear. Lori was light for him, so he could carry her in one of his arms while holding his rifle in the other. Shaw, Spencer, Gator, and Jason were still clearing the floors.

A few of the prisoners gasped as they came across the bodies of guards on the floor, but they kept moving. Brick slowed as they neared the area where Stryker had seen the collection of cages. A room that stood as a sick testament to what this division of the Noah Group had planned for the prisoners.

As they entered the room, Stryker noticed the band on Frank's wrist begin to glow, and then Lori cried out in pain. The other prisoners fell to the ground, and John began pulling at the band on the boy's wrist.

"We have to get these off them," John yelled. "They're meant to cause them pain."

"Fuck," Stryker growled as he set Lori down and attempted to rip the band off her wrist.

Every time he touched it, the band shocked him. He could see the others struggling to free the prisoners. Stryker didn't give a shit how much it hurt him, he kept trying, but nothing was working. He was about to reach for his bolt cutters when the pain stopped as suddenly as it started.

"What the fuck is going on?" Fletcher asked from where he knelt, trying to remove the band from the other woman's wrist. "It stopped."

"And it will go on again if you don't put your guns down," a voice said from across the room.

The team members stood to face the threat. Stryker placed himself in front of John, Frank, and Lori while aiming his rifle at a stout man in a white lab coat who held a small black box in his hand. Two other men in lab coats stood beside him holding guns.

Damn. A firefight here could get one of the prisoners hurt.

"Put the guns down, or I'll turn up the volume on their bands," Mr. Stout threatened before giving the prisoners another zap, making them cry out in pain.

"You demented asshole, Smith," John yelled. "Let them go."

"I warned you, John. Any escape attempt would be punished."

John gestured to Stryker. "This is one of the so-called scientists who wanted to test us."

"What's stopping us from simply shooting you?" Brick asked, trying to buy them more time.

"If you try, I'll push this, and those bands will activate without a shutoff. They will die a painful death in front of you," Smith said with a sick smile as he maneuvered himself behind one of his minions. They'd never get to him in time to stop him from pushing the button. "So, you will return them to me and escort us out of the area."

"Are you fuckin' crazy?" Fletcher asked.

"He is," Conor answered. "And he's telling the truth about the bands."

"Shit," Stryker said.

Everything inside of him wanted to put a bullet between the asshole's eyes, but he couldn't. John reached down and tried to pull the band off Frank, but it wouldn't budge.

They were in a standoff situation.

"If you shoot the box before he hits the button, it'll disrupt the connection and render it harmless," Gator's voice came across the comms. Considering his mechanical and explosive background, he'd be the man to know.

It was a one-in-a-million shot.

"Stryker?" Brick said.

Stryker glanced down at John, holding Frank protectively in his arms. The boy looked terrified.

"Well, make your choice. Either you hand them over and lead us out, or I push this button, and you watch them die," Smith said with a grin.

"Left," Fletcher whispered.

"Right," Brick replied.

The tactic was solid. If he shot the box, they'd shoot the other two assholes holding the guns. He adjusted to a better position, levelling his rifle, making it appear as if he was trying to protect more prisoners.

"You have to the count of five to decide," Smith threatened, holding the box out slightly, his finger hovering less than a quarter inch above it. "Five, four, three, two—"

"One," Stryker said and pulled the trigger.

Two more rounds were fired almost simultaneously. The two hostiles with guns fell to the ground, and Smith stood with his mouth gaping open, looking down at the spot where the box used to be but now lay on the ground in pieces.

Smith snapped out of his shock and reached for one of the guns. A shot rang out to Stryker's left, but the sound didn't come from one of their rifles. It sent Smith flying back into the wall before he slumped to the ground. There was no doubt he was dead. Stryker looked to his left to see John holding the Glock he'd given him. His lover was white, his face determined.

There'd be time later to make sure John was okay with shooting the man. Right now, they had to get the prisoners to safety.

"Move out," Brick ordered.

Stryker picked Lori up, and John carried Frank as the team transitioned into a nearby hall.

"Coming up on your six," Gator said as they turned the corner. He joined the back of the ranks, covering their escape.

"How many hostiles are left?" Brick asked.

"I'm scanning the area," Gunner responded. "The Feds have already arrested multiple subjects who ran out. I don't see any other movement."

"Okay, let's clear out," Brick ordered.

They took the stairwell down to the first floor and were under two hundred yards away from the front doors when a man stood up from behind a filing cabinet with his hands up. They turned their lights in that direction, and Stryker was momentarily stunned as he set the elderly lady down. He knew the guy from somewhere, but where?

"Kevin?" Gator said as he lowered his weapon slightly. "What are you doing here?"

Right, this was the dishwasher from the pub. What the fuck was he doing here?

"They took me from the bar," Kevin said. "Help me."

John spun around, his face stormy. "Don't trust him. He's one of the Noah Group. He's the one who was working on the inside in Marshall."

Kevin's face twisted in anger. "Freak." He pulled out a gun from behind the cabinet, aiming it at John. Stryker dove in front of his partner as the shot rang out. The blow hit him near his collarbone, just below his neck. It wasn't a spot protected by his bulletproof vest. Multiple shots sounded by the time he hit the ground, and he knew the team had ended the asshole.

"Shit, Stryker's down," Brick yelled.

Stryker knew it was bad. As something was pressed against his neck, Stryker's eyesight dimmed, and John's image faded. He should have been in pain, but he felt nothing. This was it, his final mission. At least John was safe. That's all that mattered.

***

John

"No, don't close your eyes," John cried desperately.

The shirt that had been pressed against Stryker's wound was soaked with blood, and the flow wasn't stopping. Fletcher and Brick were desperately trying to stop the bleeding, and as chaos reigned around him, John watched as the man he loved slipped further and further away from him.

His body went numb as he fell to his knees, and John was transported back to that street of Hood River, watching as his parents died in pools of their own blood.

"Move over," Lori ordered, her voice echoing around the room.

He moved out of the way as she knelt beside Stryker. Her eyes began to glow golden, and soon her hands also shone with brightness. John had seen that glow before when he'd had the asthma attack back in his cage. This was how she'd saved him.

The rest of the team watched in stunned disbelief as she laid her fragile, arthritic hands on Stryker's wound, causing his entire body to glow. It might have been seconds or minutes, John didn't know, but when the glowing faded and she removed her hands, Stryker opened his eyes.

Lori smiled down at Stryker, who was staring at his healed chest in wonder, along with everyone else. "Don't worry, son, I'll keep you safe."