Before entering nursery bedroom number six, Rayna looked at the doctor squeezing the doorknob and whispered:
- What's your name?
- Mike.
Without a second's hesitation, she gave her real name:
- I'm Rayna. Go ahead, I'll stand guard out front. I wish I had a second gun to cover me.
Mike instinctively stroked the silencer, swung the door open, and burst into the bedroom, huddled against the wall. Reina stretched out in a string.
- What bitches! - It was clear from his exclamation and the scolding that followed that the children were dead and the caregiver was gone. Mike ended his tirade by saying, "They're women! A woman is supposed to give life, not take it away.
"Heartbreaker," thought Reina, glancing around the room and sharing his indignation, the boy sprawled just outside the exit, his throat slit, a pool of blood stretching all the way into the playroom. Judging by the position of the body, the child was trying to escape.
Reina gritted her teeth. She remembered this Chinese boy; he acted like a little adult, never misbehaving, helping to tame others, and spending hours building action figures from a constructor.
She hadn't asked herself "why" or "why" in a long time. Because someone strong and unattainable wanted so, these children are just numbers in a long list, they have no faces and no names. For being in the wrong place at the wrong time. After all, since the orphans fell into the hands of nonhumans, their fate is sealed, and such a death is not the worst. It would be much worse if they ended up in brothels or in a blood transfusion station, where the fat cats rejuvenate themselves by infusing children's lives into them. The blood of a child under the age of eight is considered ideal. Reyna had not been to such places, but she knew they existed.
No one went into the seventh bedroom: the door was open, and there was a dead silence in the bedroom.
As she approached door number three, Reina was sure the children had been slaughtered there as well, but as she approached, she heard the roar and screeching of the little ones playing.
- Cover," she said to Mike and yanked the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge-the bedroom was locked.
Reina cursed repeatedly. The exclamations died down, voices came from the bedroom, and the children pounded on the door; they were scared to be alone. Alive. Alive, thank you, Lucia. All that was left was to get them out of there. Mike kicked at the door, hissed, jumped on one leg.
- It's no use," Reina muttered. - You either have to break in or blow it up.
He stopped before she could finish: a silhouette flashed across the hall, ten meters away, and a silenced pistol coughed out. Reina, huddled against the wall, recognized Lucia belatedly, and remembered, "If you heard the shot, that bullet isn't yours." Apparently Lucia couldn't cut the children's throats and decided to shoot them. Or maybe to save them, to bring them to the surface.
Either way, there was no reason to trust her; surely she was pursuing her customers' mission, not amateurism.
Mike moved to the open door of the dining room, which was closer to the beginning of the corridor; Reyna rolled over to him.
- Not enough ammo," he whispered, sticking his hand out of the dining room and pulling it away as Lucia fired.
- Not much time, either," Reina sighed, an unhealthy excitement gripping her. - You did a good job of not flashing the gun. She might think we didn't have one. I don't think she saw it in time. We gotta draw her out. I'll try to play dumb. - Reina shouted, turning to her minder: "Lucia, stop shooting, it's me, Reina.
In theory, the old woman should jump at the chance to finish her off without risk and keep the dialogue going.
- I came to get the children, and I met Mike," Reina continued, feeling the precious moments slipping away. - Did you find out what was going on upstairs?
Lucia looked out from behind the sash. Mike bit his lip, took a deep breath. He had no margin for error and waited for the old woman to come out fully.
- We were attacked by unidentified men, a lot of people had dropped out of helicopters, they'd be here any minute. - Lucia was no fool and was in no hurry to leave the shelter. - Come out so I can see that you are not a threat.
Her heart raced, and she felt hot. Glancing at Mike and licking her parched lips, Reina slipped the knife behind her belt-the hot skin touched the icy steel-and only then stepped out of the dining room into the corridor. Lucia knew that there was also Mike, and so, not to frighten him away, she had to wait until he showed himself, too, so she was unlikely to shoot now. But Raina was shaking with tension.
- Let the other one come out, too," Lucia said, poking her head out.
- You have a gun, we don't. You know the base is dog-eat-dog, you can expect anything, so now it's your turn to be friendly. So now it's your turn to show friendly intentions. Come out with your gun down.
There was a chuckle.
- Here's the deal. You go first, then him. I promise not to hurt you.
"Your promise is worthless," Reina thought angrily.
This
confrontation could drag on, and she had to get out of here with the
children. So there was nothing left but risk.
- Okay,"
Reina nodded, and the steel of the knife behind her belt felt
clearer. In essence, the world had ceased to exist, leaving only the
fat Lucia and the knife.
Reina turned her hands, palms forward, and held them out in front of her, lowering them slightly to make it easier to draw the knife.
Cold against firearms, the odds were a hundred to one. But when you consider that Lucia is clumsy and suffering from gout and arthritis in her fingers, and that Reyna is young and quick, she has a fifty-fifty chance of success.
- Are you sure? - it came from behind her.
- We'll see about that. - My throat was dry with excitement, and the words came out as a hoarse grunt.
Mike was a professional, too; he ought to know when something went wrong... But what did she care?
First step. Second. Third. She felt like she was on fire inside. The sight of the gun in front, the sight of Mike's attentive eyes behind.
The eleventh step. Twelfth. More than five meters to the exit... What the hell was going through my head? Focus!
Lucia was standing three meters away from the exit, her gun trained on him, through the ajar doors.
- Put the barrel down and don't raise it. - Said Reina, realizing that here it was, the enemy's fatal mistake! Lucia shouldn't have backed off to keep the corridor and the children's block at gunpoint.
Without turning around, Reyna worked her hand behind her back, beckoning Mike. Waiting for him to hover over her.
- Come out with your hands up, I said I'm not going to hurt you. - Lucia never put the gun down. Well, we'll have to risk it again.
Reina stuck out her arms first, then her head, squeezed through the door, and without letting Lucia out of her sight, she sidled forward, and only now did the fat woman realize what a stupid thing she had done. Or rather, by the shadow that ran across her face, Reina knew it was about to get hot, swung forward, and rolled instantly out of the line of fire. The claps sounded twice.
There was no time to see what was behind her as she jumped forward like a fish, rolled, and only heard another pop when she turned around: Mike was leaning over Lucia, twitching in agony, picking up the bloodstained gun, wiping the grip on her jeans, searching the corpse. He found the key and tossed it to Rayna, who caught it on the fly and was about to rush to the children's unit, but could barely stand up.
She caught the bundle on the fly and was about to burst into the children's block, but she could barely stand on her feet. She felt dizzy and her stomach jerked toward her throat, but Reina suppressed the gagging, breathed in, exhaled, scratched her itchy cheek. Her hand slid up and felt the mark of the bullet that had split the skin on her temple and snagged her periosteum. It was going to hurt soon...
This was no time to relax! Pull yourself together, you wimp!
Reina didn't realize she was thinking out loud, focused on the door, and staggered toward it, swaying from side to side. Her stiff fingers struggled to get the key into the keyhole and turned it twice.
Reina put her weight on the knob and the door opened, and Gia and Luca, the Balkan boy who had been banging on the door, burst out of the bedroom. Marie, thin as a reed with pale parchment skin, ran out, and when she saw the blood on her face, she screamed. There was a chain reaction, and the children retreated, shrieking. Everyone screamed except Luke.
That was all he needed!
- Shut up! - Reina barked as best she could, then continued as long as they were silent. Don't be afraid, it's me, Ruth. We're being attacked by bandits, and we must leave now or they will kill us.
She glanced at her watch: five minutes to eight. Bloody hell, the bloody fat girl has taken up so much time! There's still fifteen minutes to go. Marie gritted her mouth and was about to scream again, but Reina started to order:
- Children, come quickly to me! - The swarthy-skinned Miguel and the blue-eyed boy with the doll-like appearance from the first bedroom came out of the bedroom-lucky for the boy he was here.
- We'll get our shoes on quickly, take nothing; the bandits are already here.
The children, huddled together, rushed to their slippers, began to pull them on.
- Did you fight them? - Suddenly in a grown-up voice asked the blond Luca.
- Yes. And a little wounded.
- But you won! - The boy looked at her as if she were a living god.
- She did," Reina nodded, taking his hand. - She took his hand. "Let's form pairs.
As the children lined up, boys with boys, girls with girls, Reina spoke:
- "Let's go quietly. Don't talk, don't be naughty, don't cry. If we have to run, we run. No matter what we see, we keep quiet or they'll kill us. Follow me. Don't be afraid of your uncle on the way out. He's with us.
With her gun at the ready, Reina went to the elevator, beyond which were the stairs. She'd never been in one before, and she prayed there were no mechanical locks between floors that she couldn't open or detonate. But judging by the screams, explosions, and gunfire coming from above, it was all in the fugitives' favor.
Reina was also afraid that Lucia's corpse would frighten the children, but they did not make a sound.
Luckily for her, an electronically locked hatch blocked the passage between floors, and its flaps slid open.
- Mike, don't you know what's on minus one, either? - Reina turned around and asked.
- "Alas. I could only move around on our floor.
Minus one smelled like a hospital.
-
Somebody! - A woman yelled from a distance. - Let me out! Somebody
help me! Somebody!
"I'm not Mother Teresa or Superman,"
thought Reina, well aware that since Dr. M. had allocated the time
limit, the base could self-destruct, estimated her options and
climbed up the stairs another flight, looked at the children. Five
pairs of eyes stared curiously, to the little ones everything that
was going on was a game, and the caregiver Lucia, whom they had seen
in the hallway in blood, had died, certainly not for real. Five lives
saved. Would they override in God's judgment the deaths that had
happened through her fault?
Up to this point, Reyna had not remembered God, but, as they say, there are no atheists in war.
So, there was one flight left, and then... Reina had no idea what was on the first floor. Her imagination pictured a state-of-the-art laboratory, with several more floors above it, where legitimate work was being done.
Fortunately, the hatch above her head, where the steps led, was ajar. How much time did Dr. M. have left? About ten minutes.
- Wait," Reina commanded, running up the steps, peering carefully out of the hatch, but she could see nothing in the total darkness. She had to turn on the flashlight on her phone. The beam slid down the walls on the right and left. Reina was standing in a nook-if she spread her arms out, her fingers would touch the walls-a larger room. The spot of light stopped at the most ordinary door, which by all rules of security must be locked.
She pulled out her phone to check the time: it was, ten minutes to go.
- Come on up! - Reina commanded, pushed the door, confident that nothing would work, and fell out into the warehouse, where some boxes were piled on either side.