Page 49 of Hollow Trace

He reeled backwards, catching his balance on one of the tanks before lunging for the exit, pounding his fist against the metal panels. Scout beat the door from the other side, her frantic knocking squeezing his heart. She paused, shouting at him to get back. That she’d blow it.

Quinn pressed his palms against the steel, hoping she could hear him. “Scout. Baby, you can’t. This entire chamber’s nothing more than a pressurized manifold just waiting to blow. If you set off a spark…” He let his forehead hit the metal. “It’ll bring the entire mountain down on top of us.”

A sob, then her voice echoing through. “I’m not leaving you here.”

“I’ll find another way out, just go. Get to the rendezvous site. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Screw that.” A click, though he couldn’t tell if she’d switched mags or removed a grenade despite his warning. “I’m going to find another route. Stay there, and for god’s sake, don’t fucking die on me, Quinn.”

“No, you need to go.” He waited, got only silence in reply. “Scout! Damn it, you need to get to safety.” Another pause, another eerie silence. “Scout!”

“Sounds like she’s gone, mate.”

Quinn spun, Sig tracking the guy standing on a set of overhead catwalks. What Quinn assumed accessed the two-story generators and other components. The guy chuckled, detaching from the shadows before vaulting over the side, landing with the unnerving grace of an apex predator.

He straightened, a smug, cold smile on his face. “It’s Taylor, right? Corporal Quinton Taylor?”

Quinn kept his sight centered on the man’s head. “My friends call me Quinn. And you’re Ives Hackett. No rank, but that’s what happens when you go military adjacent.”

Hackett’s smile flourished. “Figured it wouldn’t take your lot long to identify me. Bet you got Pryce all profiled, too.”

“Brilliant. Cold. Psychotic.” He shrugged. “What can I say. I have friends with unique skills.”

“They’re impressive.” Hackett tapped a remote he had clutched in one hand. “I have to admit. I didn’t expect you to react quite so fast. I’d planned on trapping all of you in here, but life is about adapting.”

Hackett tossed the remote away, his voice still echoing in through the cavern. “No matter. The shutter’s just delaying the inevitable.” He paced a few steps, turned, walked back. “You see, once I’m done carving you apart, I’ll track them down in the tunnels.” He laughed, the maniacal sound slithering down Quinn’s spine. “I’m going to take my time with them. I think I’ll really enjoy watching your girls bleed.”

“What makes you think I won’t just drop you?”

Another laugh. Louder. Deeper, as if it crawled up from the depths of Hell. “Don’t bluff. Because if you’ve really done your homework, and I’m pretty damn sure you have, you know it’ll take a kill shot to drop me.” He gestured to Quinn’s Sig. “This close, that forty-five is likely to go clean through my skull, hit those pipes of highly pressurized, highly flammable chemicals behind me. And you know what that means…” He leaned toward Quinn, hands opening suddenly. “Boom!”

“Maybe I don’t care as long as they get out.”

“But that’s the point, mate. They won’t, because you’re right. There’s enough accelerant in here to blow out the side of the mountain. Anyone who’s not topside and already halfway down the road will die. And you don’t strike me as the kind of bloke who’d kill his teammates.”

Hackett grinned, fingers working at the belt holding his holster before allowing it to clatter onto the ground. He swung the rifle off his back, tossed it across the room then reached for his leg, drawing a heavily serrated combat knife from a thigh sheath. “Looks like we’re gonna have to do this old school.”

Quinn stared at Hackett, gun still aimed at Hackett’s head, his heart rate steady, calm, before he holstered his weapon. Any fatigue vanished, replaced by lethal, white-hot rage as he removed his SAR blade and stepped forward. “Then, let’s get on with it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Adrenaline surged through Quinn’s veins, every sense laser focused on Hackett as the man eyed him, his knife flashing red in the strobing light. He twirled it a couple times, mouth lifted on one side, face scrunched into a sneer.

Quinn waited, weight on the balls of his feet, joints loose, his knife clasped in his left hand. They circled each other once, the rock scuffing slightly beneath his boots before Hackett grinned, launching himself at Quinn.

A blink, and the asshole had already covered half the distance, nothing more than a blur amidst the crimson light. What seemed unnaturally fast for a guy topping six-five, likely weighing two-eighty. The kind of muscle mass that made Quinn look inconsequential. Hackett stepped into Quinn’s personal space, knife lunging toward him.

No sense trying to block it, not with the sheer momentum behind Hackett’s attack. The force hidden in the man’s strike. Instead, Quinn deflected his arm with a sweep of his right hand as he slid left. A quick pivot and a flick, and he landed a slice on Hackett’s triceps — sheared through part of the muscle as the guy’s momentum carried him forward.

Hackett stopped mid-step, ignoring the blood blossoming on his sweater. As if he hadn’t even felt the hit that would have completely disabled even a diehard fighter. Instead, he pivoted on a dime, backhanding Quinn across the jaw.

The blow connected so hard, Quinn swore he’d just been hit by a cinder block as he flew backwards, crashing against a frosted, liquid nitrogen pipe. The freezing metal seared through his vest and tactical shirt, stealing his breath as he regained his balance — shaking off the strike.

Hackett didn’t rush him, just stared at Quinn through narrowed eyes. He twirled the blade, again, shaking his head. “I thought you’d have more fight in you, copper.”

Quinn wiped the blood off his mouth, secretly wondering if the asshole had broken his jaw, before he rolled his shoulders, reset. “We’re just getting started.”

“You can’t beat me. All you’re doing is buying your girls more time to breathe.” Hackett flicked his finger over the tip of the knife, indifferent to the resulting nick across his skin. “Though, they won’t be doing that for long, either.”