Page 144 of What Remains

Oh shit.

“Gray already talked to his dad. The Brits were just called off and told to exfil in case they’re real officers, but we don’t have enough time to explain to the Swiss what’s going on before they get here.”

“Is the plan a bust, or are we waiting to see if⁠—”

“It’s too late,” Natasha interrupts me, and I didn’t realize she was on speakerphone. “They’re on scene.”

“And?” Dad holds the mobile in front of him, chest heaving with a deep breath. “Are we engaging or not?”

“They’re legit,” Natasha rushes out. “You need to get the hell out of there and now.”

CHAPTER 51

Gwen

“Bloody hell.” I’m about to hyperventilate. “It’s like the compound attack all over again, but with the Swiss, not Aussies. Jezebel tricked them, didn’t she?” I’m panicking, and that won’t do any good, dammit.

Easton gently seizes both my arms and simply stares into my eyes as if we have all the time in the world. He holds me like this for a few seconds, and by some small miracle, it works.

“We considered this on the flight to Bern—another deepfake Aussie-Vanuatu scenario, but it ranked low on possibilities,” I say now that my head is mostly straight. “The enemy was supposed to want me alive. Framed. Not dead or detained.” It doesn’t add up.

“We obviously can’t engage, and neither can you,” Carter joins the call with Natasha. “My team has to stand down. This is now about getting you out. We’re skipping to plan C.”

Shit.

“Plan C is on thin ice,” Sebastian bites out, hopping onto the line now, too. “All main exits are being blocked as we speak. Roads have been cut off for civilian containment. They’re covering the entrances. Your only option, if you can get there fast enough, is my emergency route in my bedroom on the second floor.”

“They’re setting the breach positions,” Carter adds. “You’re out of⁠—”

The floor bucks, and Dad loses hold of the mobile as dust from the blast sifts from the ceiling like gray snow. Easton pulls me around tight to his side.

Dad crouches and picks up the iPhone. “The line’s dead. The Swiss killed the service.”

“Probably killing comms to prevent remote detonation,” I whisper. “They must think we have a trigger device.”

Fucking Jezebel.

“We need to get downstairs to Sebastian’s room.” We should’ve been on that floor to begin with, but the Brits insisted on level three because it was the most secure. And that’s our fault. They didn’t know about the emergency exit because we withheld it from them.

Easton and Dad guide me out of the suite as if I can’t find my own way. Once we’re in the hall, darkness slams over us like an ominous warning. One I saw coming but still react to by flinching.

“Keep moving,” Easton orders. “Your dad and I memorized the layout, don’t worry.”

Overprotectiveness is about to pay off.

“No one dies so I live, are we clear?” I finally voice my concerns as vehemently as possible. And of course, they both ignore me.

Figures.

They continue to move. I’m boxed in by two men who love me the most, and I feel safer for it, but still terrified for what might happen next.

I pull Easton’s hoodie over my mouth as another blast rattles the structure.

Once in the stairwell, boots thunder below us on the first floor.

They’re in.

SWAT. Soldiers. Someone’s family.