Page 80 of Until the End

“My mistake. Won’t happen again.”

The auditorium door opened.

Castle stiffened, raising his weapon.

Alistair burst inside the room. “We’ve got more inbound.” He ran down the steps, surveying the body count. “What’s this bullshit? I can’t use deadly force, but you can?”

When Castle had seen Kit in danger, reason and self-control evaporated. He’d simply snapped. Killing those men had been the only viable recourse, and he’d do it again without regrets.

“Is there another way out of here?” Castle asked Kit, ignoring Alistair’s legitimate complaint.

“Yes.” She pointed to a door in the far-right corner at the front of the room.

Castle clasped her hand in his and they made their way down the center aisle. Alistair stayed close behind them, grumbling the entire time.

They reached the door only to find it locked. Castle thrust his shoulder against it once, twice, putting all his muscle into it. Nothing.

A creak echoed from the door off the hall. There wasn’t a need for him to look to know that more Zanteon reinforcements were entering the room.

“We need to move,” Alistair said, voicing Castle’s thoughts.

Without missing a beat, Castle aimed his weapon at the deadbolt on their one possible exit, shot the lock, and kicked the door open.

A fusillade of bullets rang out behind them, tearing into the podium and nearby seats, kicking up pieces of wood and cushion.

Castle slung his arm around Kit, hauling her in front of him, and used his body as a shield.

Suppressed gunfire pinged in the auditorium as he steered her outside. Once Kit was clear, Castle sidestepped back to the doorway. He squeezed off well-aimed shots at the contractors to give Alistair a chance to get out.

Alistair turned, not wasting a second of his opportunity, bolted across the threshold, and slammed the door shut. “Fuck.” His voice was tight, strained.

Something was wrong. “What is it?” Castle asked.

Alistair grimaced. “I’m hit.”

* * *

Bravo passed campus security guards that were combing through the Stata Center.

“Police are on the scene outside,” Echo said over comms from his position on the street.

“Roger,” Bravo said. “Charlie, what’s your status?” Silence. Still.

Where the hell was he?

As soon as Charlie had reported having a visual of Katherine Westcott with the package, Bravo had abandoned his position at Mendoza’s department and hightailed over there.

Now, no word from him.

Bravo glanced outside through the glass wall overlooking a courtyard and parking lot. A flash of movement stopped him.

There she was, Westcott. With the package. Escorted by Caretaker and another speed bump, this one sporting a mohawk and limping slightly, possibly injured.

Police cruisers pulled into the lot with lights flashing.

Adrenaline surged. Bravo’s heart hammered for the chase. He checked for an exit that led out to the courtyard and found none. Hell. Bravo cursed his luck under his breath.

Echo wouldn’t make it to their location in time, and Charlie was MI fucking A.