Erasing Faith(65)

“Please,” I mumbled incoherently, wishing I could sob but lacking the energy for it.

“What is it, darlin’?” The voice asked gently.

“Wes,” I managed to whisper, before the rest of the world faded away and I lost the battle to remain conscious.





Chapter Thirty-Three: WESTON


MY FAULT



“Abbott.”

“It’s Renley. Calling to report on the Hermes raid.”

I paused, catching my breath. We’d finished our sweep of the compound only moments before and I was still winded. “Proceed.”

“As soon as we got there, they engaged us. By my count, there were eight men. Only six at first, but two more showed up after we’d been trading rounds for a few minutes. Unfortunately for us, they’d been in the back rooms pouring gasoline and dropping matches like candy wrappers.”

“Fuck,” I cursed quietly. “They knew we were coming.”

“Sure as shit seemed that way, sir.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “No one knew about this op except the guys on our team and Benson.”

We were both silent as we considered what that meant.

A leak.

Neither of us voiced our suspicion, but the implication was there, hanging heavy in the dead air between us.

Without another word on the subject, Renley cleared his throat and finished his report. “We took down six in the lobby but the two who’d torched the place skipped through the back doors. We pursued into the building, but we lost them in the smoke.”

“Did they make it out?”

“Not unless they were Olympic swimmers who can hold their breath for five minutes. That smoke was so thick, one good gulp was enough to kill ‘em.”

“So we have nothing.”

Renley sighed. “Essentially.”

“Fuck.” I gripped the phone tightly in my hand. “This is exactly why I wanted to wait. The whole f*cking op was rushed because Benson and some pencil pushers at Langley wanted results.”

“I assume you didn’t find Szekely or the prototype at the compound, then?”

“No. Empty as a f*cking church on Halloween.” I blew out a frustrated huff of air. “We’ll regroup back at base and debrief in an hour. Any injuries on your end?”

“No, all our men are fine.”

“Good,” I clipped, preparing to hang up.

“There was a civilian casualty, though.”

“Are you sure it was a civilian?” My mind spun.

“Well, they left her behind. And shot her. So I’m assuming she wasn’t with Szekely’s men.”

She. He’d said she. I felt my heart begin to pound.

“The offices weren’t open,” I said, sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. “No one should’ve been there.”

“Well, she was.”

“It was a woman?”

“Yeah. Young girl, maybe twenty. One of the couriers, I think. She was wearing a uniform. Probably just got caught in the crosshairs.”

“What happened?” I asked through suddenly clenched teeth.

“We sent her off in an ambulance. I think they’re taking her to the hospital by City Park. Thompson’s with her, in case she wakes up. Pretty doubtful she will, though. She was covered in ash — she’d been baking in that oven for a while. Wouldn’t be surprised if the smoke inhalation killed her before the bullet in her stomach did.”

“What did she look like?” I forced the question from my lips.

“Thin, pretty. It was hard to tell with all the smoke, but I think her hair was reddish-brown.”

Reddish-brown.

Fuck.

Red.

Before Renley could say another word, I hung up and sprinted for the van. I’d never run so fast in my life. Thoughts clawed at each other in my mind like wolves, each more feral than the last.

Faith, Faith, Faith.

I had to get to her.

This was my fault.

If she died…

It would kill me.





Chapter Thirty-Four: FAITH


THE IN-BETWEEN



I drifted for days in the in-between.

Like a child on a seesaw, I wavered between the ground and sky on whims that were not my own.

Up, down.

Earth, clouds.

Life, death.

I was in and out of consciousness. The bright lights, the doctors’ sharp voices, the nurses’ kind hands, the rhythmic beeping and whirring of machines as they pumped blood and life back into me — I saw it all through a fog. Far-removed and floating outside my body, as if it were happening to someone else.

The sounds were more of a nuisance than anything. As time slipped by, I felt myself dissipating into the ether.

But then, he came.

His voice was the anchor I needed. He tied me down so I couldn’t float away. He gave me something to hold on to.

I heard the panic in his tone, the fear. Guilt poured off him in waves, a tangible thing.

I wanted to tell him it was all right — I was still here. That, for him, I’d stay.

My useless, unconscious mouth refused to cooperate.

I felt his lips on my forehead, his teardrops on my cheeks.

“Don’t leave me, Faith.” He sounded hollow. A lonely man and a lost child, wrapped up in one empty form.