Page 116 of The Lazarus Protocol

Adam went to the doors, kicking them open and going in gun first.

“I worry I’ll never see him again, but then what right do I have to expect that I will? That’s not the life we live, and it never was.”

“You didn’t see him?” He slid the beam of his flashlight back and forth across the room.

Old banks of computers, ancient terminals that probably had mice instead of wires.

Steph’s stomach clenched at every shadow. She wanted to grab hold of Adam’s hand but didn’t want him to know she felt like that little kid in the dark who had felt her father be torn away from her. “That photo? The one on Halloween? It was the last time I saw him.”

Adam slowed a little. “Tell me what happened. It’ll distract you.”

“No, it won’t. It’ll make this worse.” She could feel the dark touching her, clawing with sharp talons ready to strike at her and rake deep grooves in her skin. “I only saw him when he came home between deployments, or when he wasn’t on a mission. It was Halloween, and I wanted to go trick or treating with him so badly.

“At the end of the night we took a shortcut through the school grounds, and we were in the alley by the house when men jumped the fence and more ran from both ends. All the lights went out. Streetlights, home lights, everything. And I couldn’t see anything. I heard him fighting. Heard him get hurt. I tried to fight one of them, but he slammed my head against the fence and I fell.” She took a breath. “They left me there, half unconscious.”

Steph reached up and touched the scar on her forehead.

“The government?”

She shrugged. “For a long time, I didn’t know. Then they made it my entire life.”

“Forcing you to work for the CIA just to safeguard him.”

“They gave me a way to talk to him, so I could be sure he was okay. But I haven’t seen him since that night.” She wanted to breathe her deepest fear aloud, but there was no way he’d understand. I don’t think I’m cut out for this.

He was, and he’d proven that over and over. Meanwhile, Steph felt as if she’d been floundering around in the dark her entire life. Waiting for something to happen and refusing to realize the obvious—it never would.

Her father might as well have died that night. For all she knew, he was dead now.

“Anything?” She spotted a lever on the wall and went to it. “Adam?”

He didn’t answer.

She looked over and saw his flashlight resting on top of a desk, pointed at the wall. “Adam?”

Steph grabbed the lever and raised it until it touched the wall again, pointing up. A deep whir began under the ground, aching ancient machinery whirring to life suddenly after slumbering for so long.

“I’ve seen this movie,” she muttered. “It doesn’t end well.”

Lights blinked overhead. One blew, cascading sparks onto a computer monitor. Others flickered on, first a cool orange, then warming to a bright yellow.

Casting illumination across the room.

The empty room.

“Adam!” She didn’t care if she sounded desperate. “Adam!”

Steph raced across the room, making sure he hadn’t fallen over. He was nowhere. Only his flashlight remained.

She should go find Kyle and Ash. Tell them their friend was missing as well now. Division Zero picked off one by one. A vindictive private company, and a quiet war, working behind the scenes. Drawing no notice from the world, the media, or governments.

If the team was killed, there would be someone left to ask questions.

If she died—would there be anyone who even cared?

Steph gasped and rushed to the door.

An alarm chimed, and a blast door lowered over the space where Adam had kicked the door open, dark gray metal and yellow stripes. It descended too fast.