He hunched low and ran, running down the hallway back the way they came, toward the inside of the museum and away from his freedom. The four officers gave chase, shouting threats of more shots if Roman didn’t stop immediately.
Of course, he didn’t listen. He continued to run, exploding out into the Renaissance Hall and nearly knocking over a painting. Mimic could handle one officer; he just needed to keep the attention on him.
“Freeze!”
The shouts fell on deaf ears. Almost all of the museum visitors appeared to have been evacuated, which told Roman they wouldn’t hesitate to take a shot if they had one. He wound through the paintings, making sure to keep as much cover as he could. All he had to do was buy time. That was all he really could do.
Fucked. This is all so irreparably fucked.
How had this even happened? They should have had the tome back in their hotel by now, all of them working together to crack the final code. How could he have overlooked Alecia? She was a blind spot that never should have been. Phantom always spoke so highly of her, had so much trust imbedded in their brother-sister relationship, Roman had trusted that to be enough.
He should have known that with Leonidas involved, enough would never be enough.
More gunshots rang out behind him. A bullet ricocheted off the far wall, a hole appearing where it had hit. Another went through the glass surrounding a giant painting, the sound of clinking shards falling across the floor. He ran over them, glass crunching under his wingtips. He wasn’t about to return fire, understanding the life sentence that would end up earning him.
He took a sharp right, running out into the concrete halls that were by the entrance of the museum. He could see the red and white lights from the police cars bouncing off the walls. The museum must have been surrounded by now.
Surrounded by police officers all told to look out for the Rainbow’s Seven. They likely had clear descriptions of each of them by now. Roman expected SWAT to arrive shortly, cutting down any chance he had of escaping to nearly zero.
It wasn’t there yet, though. He took another turn, away from the main entrance, running into a dome-shaped room with planets hanging from the ceiling, a constantly shifting view of the stars projected above him. He thought back to the maps he had made of the museum, remembering an exit past the infinity room, which should have been on the other side of this mini planetarium.
He ran, hard and fast. He had to lose these cops, had to get to Mustang. Then they’d regroup and figure out a way to rescue Bang Bang.
A fucking prison break. Great.
He’d worry about that later. “Stop right fucking now!” The shouting sounded closer, louder, enhanced by the acoustics of the room. His heart pounded with the force of a jackhammer. At least Wyatt would be safe, Mimic likely having already rescued him.
“Roman, where you at?” Mustang’s voice sounded in his head.
“Do you have Salt and Mimic?”
A moment’s pause felt like an eternity. “I do. Where are you?”
“Trying to get to you. I’m on the west side of the museum heading north.”
“Got it. Just try and hurry, boss. This place is swarming with cops.”
“I’m trying,” Roman said, another gunshot going off behind him. A small podium exploded just to his left, sharp pieces of metal slicing into the back of his neck as he ran.
He didn’t have time to even feel the pain. He ran into another hallway and made a right, running directly into the infinity room, seeing his reflection thrown back at him in a thousand different directions. He took a shaky step forward before hearing the police behind him.
Roman shot at the mirrors, his reflection cracking like a break in reality. He kept shooting as he entered the room, trying to look past the broken faces.
Another face filled the broken mirrors, and then another. The police were entering the room, guns held up and shifting between the reflections. They must not be sure which one was the real Roman.
Good.
He pushed forward, trusting in his memory. There should be a small passageway that went through the maze of mirrors, leading to an exit on the other side. There were white lights all around, making it seem otherworldly, like Roman was running for his life through a field of twinkling stars.
There was a tragic beauty to the final moments of Roman’s sunset job. It was meant to be the final one, the job that would allow him and his crew a life of unlimited luxury. He had envisioned a countless number of nights where he drifted around the Greek coast on his private yacht, looking up at a sea of stars, Wyatt curled up next to him and enjoying the same view, their heartbeats in sync and their legs tangled together.