Hyper Lynx (The Lynx Series Book 6) by Fiona Quinn (ebook reader for pc and android TXT) 📗

Often, too, they had security cameras, but they were hidden to make their clients feel more at ease that they were in a safe space and crimes were not anticipated.

I thought if there were to be security, it would be on the exterior, and it would focus on exits. The door wasn’t a good idea. I backtracked. Every second meant that the terrorists were getting closer to completing their tasks and would move on with next steps.

Every second might be London’s last breath.

The MC had been cold about shooting London. Would they care about the lives of the others in the room?

I found a service staircase and followed it up. Here, in another hall, I made my way to the side of the mansion opposite the parking lot. Outside there was a slope down to a pond that was just visible in the dusk.

This was my exit, I decided.

Chapter Forty-One

In the upstairs office space, I dragged the curtains from the windows. Floor to ceiling silk, this was precisely what I needed. Tying four of them together end to end and pulling knots every so many feet, I quickly constructed a rope system that I could use to climb from the third-story window.

I was so glad that I had chosen to be comfortable tonight in a black satin jumpsuit and flats.

Using rubber bands from the desk drawer, I secured my hair out of my way.

Filling my cheeks with air, I let it go in a rush. I can do this.

Sure I could. This was a walk in the park, I told myself as I went butt-first out the window, testing how my shoes would do against the smooth siding.

Not good.

I pulled them off and stuck the shoes in my bra, letting my breasts hold them in place.

This wasn’t my first rodeo on the side of a tall building. This was only three stories. Heck, I had climbed up a fire chute thirteen stories high when I tried to take out the Hydra. And look at Christen, when she met Gator, she leaped into his heart when she did a parkour dive off the side of a two-story building.

It’s doable.

I’m doing it.

As my feet found the solidity of hard-packed dirt and grass, I left the make-do rope in place. Those knots would help me climb back with the things that I gathered. It’s one thing to climb a rope hand over hand. It’s entirely different to climb encumbered that way.

I am not a SEAL.

That didn’t mean that I wouldn’t try to shapeshift into one.

 Quickly replacing my shoes, I laid down, crossing my arms over my chest as I rolled down the hill, below the horizon, and out of view if anyone was watching out of a first-story window. I raced toward the tree line. There, I stopped to assess.

At the front gate, four army men on hover scooters stood sentry.

On the wall, I saw others crouched, observing the street, but not the grounds.

It was good that I went out the window on the other side of the building, or surely they would have seen and taken action.

Needing to be sure that they weren’t monitoring the parking lot, I waited for a full five minutes to make sure my next moves would go undetected.

Yes, it was time that I didn’t have. But getting caught now would serve no one.

Feeling reassured and glad for the descending night, I made my way to the Iniquus vehicles.

Per protocol, they were parked at the back of the lot facing outward.

I snaked my way up to the first one, reaching under the bumper, feeling for the code panel. This was a security measure placed on every Iniquus vehicle. Besides the normal bullet resistance and run-flat tires, Command didn’t want to have the operator stuck on a scene if somehow the keys went missing.

The locks were set up like a gun safe. I laid my fingers in each of the grooves then pressed in the combination: pinky, ring finger, and thumb. When I did, the system recognized an emergency was in play. The lights disengaged, the alarm—any beeps or chirrups all disabled—the back unlatched.

Control would be notified and be listening for instructions over the intercom.

I popped the rear hatch, lifting it halfway.

“Control,” I whispered, knowing that the computers would augment my voice. “May Day. May Day. May Day. Lynx from Strike Force. We are involved in a hostage situation.”

“Control. Copy.”

“We are eight men, seven women with an Iniquus connection. Gator is not on-site. He’s with his fiancée Christen. Contact them immediately and tell them not to come in the gates. Urgent. Do not let them return.”

“Good Copy. Wilco.”

“There are by my count a hundred and twenty other guests. I have counted over thirty criminals. Eight that I’ve found on perimeter. They are dressed as green army men.”

“Repeat last.”

“They are dressed in Halloween costumes as green army men.”

“Copy.”

“Rifles with silencers. One woman has died of what seems to be a heart attack. One woman is in a life-threatening medical state with a bullet to the back of her head. One man was unconscious from an undetermined reason. Our people were unharmed last I saw them.”

I crossed my fingers to give that thought extra good juju. Then sent up a silent prayer to my parents. Please help them. Those are the people I love. Please. Though what they could do in the ether was beyond me.

What did I know? Maybe they were the reason that Vincent had a Come to Jesus moment, saw what Hell might look like, and shoved me through that door in a bid to earn an eternal reprieve.

I’d like to believe that.

“I’m gathering equipment and taking it back to my team. Over.”

“We have you up on satellite. We have operator teams