Roman helped Wyatt and Mimic get through the broken window and over the broken glass, following right behind them. Some of the glass must have cut up his palm, leaving thin streaks of bright red blood.
“This way,” he said, grabbing Wyatt’s hand, seemingly unaware of whatever injuries he might have had. They ran through rows and rows of classic paintings, the people inside appearing to follow them with their oil-painted eyes.
“There! Freeze!”
The shouts came from behind them, spurring them on. They took the left turn and found themselves in a dimly lit hallway, a rare collection of gemstones and crystals displayed in the walls. Directly ahead of them was a blinking red exit sign. If they could just get to it, get out of this museum, then they’d be able to get to Mustang and get the hell out of there.
Except for Bang Bang.
That hit Wyatt hard, but there was nothing they could do for him now. The only way they’d be able to help is if they made it out of this museum alive. So they ran, as hard as they’d ever run in their lives, directly for the exit. Toward freedom. They just had to—
“Stop!”
Mimic grabbed Roman’s wrist, pulling him back, pointing upward.
A blinking light, just next to the red exit sign. Directly above them.
Wyatt barely registered what he was looking at before Roman pushed him to the side just as the bomb went off. It was close enough for Wyatt to feel the heat of it singe his eyelashes, burning the tips of his hair. He fell to the floor, coughing, trying to suck in a breath. His head spun, and his blood pressure spiked. He struggled to get up, having a difficult time getting his legs to work.
Where was Roman? Mimic? He looked around, called out for them. They were just at his side…
The rubble next to him. A small wall had been constructed where there hadn’t been one before, made of concrete and cement and tile and stone.
“Roman! Mimic!”
Please don’t be buried under there. Please don’t be—
“We’re safe,” Roman responded through a small fit of coughs. “Are you hurt?”
Wyatt looked himself over, taking quick stock. No blood, nothing impaled, nothing broken. “I’m fine, I’m okay.” He managed to stand up, his shoulders beginning to shake. Dust filled the air, the coughs getting more intense, making his head hurt with the pressure. He wiped at his eyes, making the problem worse.
How was he getting out? He couldn’t see the exit sign anymore. He’d have to turn back around, run through another section of the museum. He’d have to—
“Put your hands up, right fucking now. Now!”
Wyatt turned, staring directly down the barrel of a pistol, LAPD lining the entire hallway, blocking the only exit out of the tunnel.
Oh no…
Chapter 31
Roman Ashford
Everything was blowing up, both figuratively and literally. Roman couldn’t quite process just how fucked this entire job was. Light flickered above him as the door hung off its hinges, showing a clear route of escape that would take him into a back alley and out of the museum.
But it would end up leaving Wyatt inside. He’d already had to leave behind Bang Bang; he couldn’t do that to another one of the Rainbow’s Seven. “Go,” he told Mimic, running in the opposite direction, following the small wall of debris to try and get to the other side.
“I’m not leaving you,” she said, running at his side, face covered in dust. She wiped at her eyes, black nails coated in the same white debris.
The bomb had taken down a lot of the ceiling and piping, but it didn’t extend down the entire hallway. They reached the end of the rubble and turned, placing them directly behind the backs of five LAPD officers, all of them with their guns drawn and aimed at a terrified-looking Wyatt.
Roman’s heart plummeted. He couldn’t let this happen. Not to Wyatt.
“Take cover. I’m going to draw them my way. You need to get Salt out of here. Whatever you do.”
He took out his gun. Mimic’s eyes went wide. She put a hand on his wrist, whispering, “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Unfortunately, Roman didn’t have time to judge whether his plan was stupid or not. He needed to act before they slapped a pair of handcuffs on Wyatt and dragged him away.
“Just get him out.”
Mimic gave his wrist a squeeze, her eyes projecting the mountain of worries that rose inside her. Roman mouthed an “I’ll be okay” and motioned for her to hide on the other side of the rubble. She nodded, hurrying around the corner in a crouch.
And with that, Roman raised his gun and pulled the trigger. The bullet hit his target, tearing through an exposed pipe running directly above the police officers. Water rained down on them with a stinging pressure, causing four of them to turn and shoot in Roman’s direction.