Page 2 of Hollow State

He swiped his badge at the door Isaac had slipped through. The reader clicked. A solid green light.

He pulled the door open a fraction of an inch, wincing at the soft metallic whine of the hinges, and slipped into the corridor. At the end of the hall, there was a door, and that was it. Nothing else. He crept forward, constantly glancing over his shoulder. The lighting was harsh and utilitarian.

Another key swipe would be necessary to gain access. He squared his shoulders and raised his hand. As soon as his card went through the reader, a keypad appeared, requesting a PIN. He held his breath and entered his employee PIN. The reader flashed green five times, and the door unlocked.

As quietly as possible, he peered inside. Voices echoed from behind a large wall partition. To his right were server racks behind glass doors. Holding his breath, he kept his back to the wall and leaned out just enough to see inside.

The control room was a cavern of glowing monitors and sleek black consoles. Isaac stood at the center, hands clasped behind his back, flanked by the two tactical guards.

But it wasn't the men that locked Darwin's knees and turned his blood to ice. It was the massive main screen dominating the far wall.

The feed was grainy, shot using high-altitude thermal imaging. Plumes of gray and white moved across a jagged, forested landscape. Heat signatures. People. They darted between the dark shapes of trees, muzzle flashes lighting up the screen with rapid, blinding bursts. It was a firefight. A desperate, scrambling battle in the middle of nowhere.

Darwin’s gaze drifted to the right side of the screen.

Lines of data scrolled rapidly alongside the thermal feed, next to images too small to identify. Biometric readouts. Heart rates. Blood oxygen levels. Adrenaline spikes.

Darwin squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, praying he was misreading the telemetry. He wasn't. He knew those numbers better than he knew his own name. He’d spent years calibrating them.

The heart rates were sitting at two hundred beats per minute. The oxygen saturation was impossible. The adrenaline and cortisol spikes were off the charts, maintaining a steady peak that would shred a normal human heart into ribbons within minutes.

These weren't wounded soldiers fighting to survive until medical evacuation.

These were hunters.

Finch hadn't sidelined his drug as they'd discussed. Finch had weaponized it. He’d stripped away the medical protocols, eliminated the KATHARSIS safety net, and pumped raw, uninhibited VALKYR or TITAN into active operators. Super soldiers unleashed in a live-fire environment.

Darwin reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell as the screen followed the soldiers engaged in battle. He tapped the photo app and zoomed in as tight as he could. A wave of nausea slammed into him. The air thinned. He backed away from the partition, his chest heaving as he fought the urge to vomit. His heel caught the edge of a rolling diagnostic cart and it spun, slamming into a metal cabinet with a sharp, echoing crash.

Silence fell over the control room.

"Hey," a voice yelled from inside. "Who's out there?"

Darwin turned, fumbled with the door, and bolted down the corridor, his loafers skidding on the smooth surface. Boots pounded against the floor behind him, heavy and fast.

"Stop him," Isaac shouted, his voice cracking like a whip through the hallway. "Lock down the exits!"

Darwin hit the stairwell door shoulder-first, bursting into the concrete shaft. He scrambled up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his lungs burning with every gasp. He didn't look back. The sound of the guards hitting the stairs below him was all the motivation he needed.

He burst out onto his floor and sprinted through the maze of cubicles while attempting to catch his breath. The entire crew stared at him in shock as he tore past them, a frantic, middle-aged doctor running like the devil was on his heels.

He slid into his office and slammed the door, locking it—like that would save him if they decided to use bullets.

Yanking open a drawer, he snagged a flash drive. He popped it into the USB port and hit a command to copy over a few key files regarding his research. He wouldn’t leave without it. Grabbing his laptop, he shoved it into his backpack. His hands shook wildly as he stared at the monitors.

Copying...45 seconds remaining.

Footsteps hammered down the hallway outside his office.

"Oswald," a guard shouted, pounding his fist against the heavy wood door. "Open up!"

30 seconds.

"Stand back, I'm breaching!"

Darwin grabbed his car keys and shoved them into his jacket pocket. "Hey Siri, call the general." If anyone could help him now, it would be General Augustus "Gus" Esposito.

15 seconds.