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“This is sector one. Negative, I didn’t hear anything.”
“Sector six. It was definitely a gunshot. I think from control room.”
“Sector four. Don’t be so jumpy. It was not—”
“Oh shut up, Tallow.”
“You shut—”
Leon pressed into the call. “This is the control room. Affirmative on the gunshot, it was a misfire. No alarm.”
Quiet for a moment, then, “Control room, identify yourself.”
Leon dove for the first guard he killed, rifled around in his pockets, came up with an ID card, then rushed back to the console. “Junior Ken, six-seven-one-zero-five.”
“Affirmative, Ken.”
And then the console went quiet.
Sebastian spoke in his ear again. “They did not buy that.”
“No, they did not.” Leon went to the nearest desk and flipped it onto its side without a care for the crash it made
“You need to get out of there.” Sebastian’s tone took on a bossy quality.
Leon scowled. “Worry about yourself.”
“I can worry about two things at once—Hello there!” Sebastian’s voice suddenly chirped in a friendly way before falling back into a serious whisper a moment later. “I’m on the ship. I’m in. I don’t need you in the factory. Now, get out of there.”
Leon flipped over the next desk and turned its heavy metal top toward the door. “If they get in here, they can call up to the Barzen and sound the alarm.”
“They won’t think to do that. They won’t even check the communications panel.”
“They will if they’re smart.” Leon flipped the last desk and shoved them all into the best trench he could manage. He crouched between them, shielded on either side from the two doors. If he was really lucky, maybe a few of them would shoot over his head and hit each other instead.
“They’re not smart,” Sebastian spat.
Leon checked his bullets. Four guns, all of them loaded, and plenty of spare ammo. If he couldn’t defend this position for at least an hour with all that, then Farlon hadn’t trained him. “Let’s not risk it.”
“I don’t want to risk you.”
Leon’s heart throbbed at the desperate note in Sebastian’s voice. He sighed and checked all his guns again, even though he’d already done it twice. He rubbed his thumb over the gun barrel and thought of rubbing it over the ridge of Sebastian’s cheek and the sweet, vulnerable look that always came into Sebastian’s eyes when he did. “If I can risk you, you can risk me.”
“Leon—”
“Showtime, Sebastian.”
The door to Leon’s left crashed open, and Leon fired off three rounds without pausing to identify the newcomer. He ducked back down behind the desks and tuned in to the chorus of swearing and the overlapping crackle of the communications panel.
The guards of the factory had no doubts about the incident now.
“Intruder! In the control room!”
“Definitely armed!”
Leon pressed his back against a desk. Two in the hallway with the open door. He hadn’t hit either. One door still closed. For now.
Sebastian croaked and gurgled in his ear. Then Leon heard a rustling, a pop, and a new voice, deeper this time. “Alright, I’m in one of the security guards.”
