Page 68 of Hollow State

"You've never put us out there." She took his hand. "Finch did that. Every time."

"It doesn't feel that way to me."

"But it's the truth. And this is what we do. It's what we did when the government gave us paychecks. We're elite soldiers. We do this so people who aren't us get to have windows and choices."

Darwin stood, lifting her up as well. "I can't argue with that logic," he said. "You're right. I know that. But it doesn't make me feel better about what I'm going to have to do." He put his palm against her cheek. "Every person in this bunker is family. That makes it hard. I found someone I love more than my lab, and I spent years believing that wasn't probable. That makes it nearly impossible." He leaned in and kissed her temple.

Neve rapped her knuckles twice on the table. "We still need an actionable plan. Gideon, Zadie—I want a date on the app and the wearables." She pointed down the table. "Darwin, you mentioned tweaks to the compound. I need to know what they are and how long that takes. Then you and Gideon get with Scout and Coulter and put an entry plan on paper. I'll reach Quinn about what he can do from the outside without burning himself, and I'll find out what Gus is willing to give us." She stood. "Back here tomorrow morning. Let's get to work."

Chairs moved. Zadie took her mug. Scout held the door, and Coulter went through it still talking to Neve. In twenty seconds, the room had emptied, leaving just the two of them.

Wynn rested her hip against the edge of the table to take the weight off the leg. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yes. No. I have no idea."

"I'm sorry I took your plan apart in front of everybody. I could have⁠—"

"Don't." Darwin shook his head. "Don't apologize for it. Yours is better. You saw the hole in mine inside of a minute. The reality is, I think I knew I had a shitty plan. Subconsciously, I knew it wouldn't work. I just didn't want to accept that this team was going to have to save me," he said. "That as much as I want to, I couldn’t keep you out of it. That you’d end up trying to save me, too." He set his glasses on the table. "I have to administer a compound that could kill you. That knowledge is doing something to me I can't describe."

"I can't imagine." This was an impossible situation. Do nothing, and they allow Finch to destroy and kill innocent people. No one in this bunker could live with that, and they'd be stuck down here forever knowing they’d done nothing. Not an acceptable option. But doing anything meant sacrifice. By everyone.

For some, it meant risking their lives. But for Darwin, it meant so much more.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Darwin capped the last vial, wrote the concentration across the label, and set it in the rack with the others.

Four of VKR-1. Six of KTH-1. And two of AXS-1. His training had taught him to be prepared for anything. The military could use AXS-1 in a couple of different capacities. In extreme situations, like a field amputation or spinal injury requiring movement, they could administer it alongside VKR-1.

Or, it could be used in an anomaly, like Brea, but in reverse. As in, KTH-1 was not working to flush out the toxic aspects of VKR-1. It was rare. Darwin had only seen it happen a few times.

But since it had happened, that meant it could happen again. And he was responsible, medically, for this team. For his family.

He pulled the dosing sheet toward him and jotted down a few numbers. For the most part, everyone could be treated equally, except Coulter. Initially, he’d need more VKR-1.

The tricky part would be administering KTH-1. That would all be based on biometrics. The good news was that it would take a lot for an overdose to happen. Too much wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but vitals needed to be monitored, and Darwin still wasn't sure about dosing anyone who wasn't injured.

Healthy tissue didn’t need a rescue drug, and a rescue drug administered to healthy tissue devoured it.

None of the chemistry had changed since Darwin had developed the drug.

Folding his arms, he stared at the vials. Down the hall in the war room—or maybe they'd moved to the kitchen, or family room—the rest of the team was talking strategy. How to move in and out of Hyperion without being seen. Where to find the information they’d need and how to funnel it out to the appropriate channels. The ones that would actually listen—the ones that weren't owned by Finch.

That was their part. His part was on the bench in front of him.

These little vials would be packed into two hard cases and sent out into the field. Full flush for every person going in. Wynn would have the smaller draws of KTH-1, and if somebody's metabolites said they needed more, he could walk her through administering it over comms.

The door opened.

"I went to bed and you weren’t there." Wynn stepped into the room, her limp only slightly noticeable. To his annoyance, she’d given up the cane after two days. But he probably would've done the same thing in her shoes. Hell, he was hobbling around on a broken toe he continually forgot to tape.

"Just finishing up," Darwin said. "Is everyone still mission planning?"

"Neve sent everyone to their quarters," Wynn said. "We were all starting to get slaphappy."

"That means Gideon started telling stupid IT jokes."

"Worse." Wynn leaned against the counter. "Zadie was laughing at them."