Page 256 of Golden Eagle

She could play the idiot, certainly, if it meant that Harvey, sitting in front of a laptop at the coffee shop down the street, got all of this recorded, and uploaded to a secure cloud server.

This was their plan: if Trina and Lanny had to kiss their careers goodbye, and flee the city, they might as well deal the Ingraham Institute a blow from which they could never recover.

“Will it help, really, to know?” Dr. Fowler asked.

“Let’s just say I’m curious,” Trina said. “Indulge me.”

~*~

“You know, my brother, Pauly,” Lanny said, systematically cracking every one of his knuckles with loud pops, “always told me I shoulda been in SWAT. DEA or something. Some department where I’d get to do raids, you know? High adrenaline stuff. I think he was surprised I went into homicide. ‘You mean you gotta talk to people? You’re no good at that,’” he said in what was clearly meant to be an imitation of his brother’s voice.

“Clearly, he was wrong, since you’re talking so much now,” Nikita deadpanned, but his own heart was thump-thump-thumping like an angry fist at a door. He wouldn’t say he was excited – but close to it. He’d felt numb when they stormed Blackmere, unable to feel the thrill that he did now. This time, Sasha was beside him, bouncing softly on the balls of his feet, feeling his own anticipation. Nikita could sense his adrenaline spike in the back of his own head; could tell that Sashawasexcited, almost gleefully so.

For such a sweet boy, he’d always been very good at the killing part of being a soldier.

Val drew his sword with a soft metallic hiss. It was the one he’d used to catch his brother’s swing back in Virginia, a wicked, gleaming silver piece of steel so long he had to wear it strapped to his back, and draw it over his shoulder. It was, Nikita had to admit, an impressive sight. The prince’s hair was braided: pulled back at the crown, and two thick pieces braided behind each ear.A proper Viking warrior, he’d said, with a wry twist to his mouth.

Nikita reached to touch the hilt of the much-shorter sword on his own hip. The weight was awkward…but reassuring in a way he hadn’t expected. If he ran out of ammo, he had a backup other than his fists and fangs, and he was forced to admit that Fulk had been right about being prepared.

They stood in a shadow on the sidewalk across from the Institute, the building aglow with lights opposite. As they watched, someone pushed through the double glass front doors and headed down the sidewalk, a car chirping to life as he approached it.

It didn’tlooklike an evil place.

But Nikita felt like he had facing down a German Tiger. Standing across from Rasputin in that clearing.

“Gentlemen,” Will said. “It’s eight o’ clock.”

Nikita pulled his gun. “Right. Sashka, on point.”

Sasha laughed, a short, sharp sound that was mostly a bark, and shifted to his wolf shape.

They went across the street – jaywalked – in a tight knot, already arranged in the way they would enter. Sasha first, low, an attack dog, and Nikita behind him, upright, drawing the immediate fire, his gun and his compulsion ready. (He felt the power at his fingertips, now, nothing like the fritz of their last visit here. The binding had settled him in every sense; he felt strong, and capable, andreadyfor this.)

Val was next in the center. He was doubtless the strongest, and a skilled warrior – but he hadn’t learned how to fight in the modern age, yet, like the rest of them. He could hold their center, if someone popped out a door and tried to break up their party, or relieve Nikita when he needed to reload.

Behind him, Lanny and Will brought up the rear, ready to protect their six.

When they reached the double doors, Lanny swept up to pull one open, and held it as Sasha led the way into the airlock. Will got the inner door, and Nikita had his gun leveled and ready; executed a quick sweep of the lobby.

Empty. Not even a receptionist.

Nikita gestured, and they kept moving.

Val put the tip of his sword through the keycard reader beside the door, and it went dead with a little sizzle sound. The door unlocked with a click. Again, Lanny opened it, and Sasha and Nik led the way through.

The hall stretched before them, empty, bland, the tasteful portraits designed to set patients at ease.

“They’re ready for us,” Lanny said. “Place is a ghost town.”

“Keep moving,” Nikita said, heartbeat in his ears now, a steady drumbeat.

Despite any real lack of training, they flowed down the hall, almost perfectly in step with one another. Sasha trotted along in the lead, head down, nose working audibly as he sniffed and tested the air.

Nikita had a keen sense of smell, but it was nothing like a wolf’s in four-legged form, and Sasha proved it, drawing up short just before they reached a cross-hall. He froze, ruff lifting, and gave a low growl. They all pulled up, and a moment later, Nikita smelled it, too.

“What–” Lanny started.

“Smoke grenade,” Will and Nik said together.

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