Chapter 6 - Safehouse
The world spun into a chaotic blur of crushed metal and deployed airbags.
Victor kicked his jammed door open and pulled Harper from the wreckage.
Arthur climbed out of the driver's side, firing his weapon to keep advancing figures at bay.
"Get to the subway!" Arthur yelled, tossing Victor a spare magazine.
Victor practically carried Harper down the concrete stairs into the underground station.
They lost the attackers in the crowd and slipped into an abandoned maintenance room.
Victor locked the heavy steel door and slid down the wall, clutching his bleeding side.
Harper tore a strip of fabric from her trench coat and knelt beside him.
She pressed the cloth firmly against his wound, her face inches from his.
"You're going to get yourself killed for a junior designer," she whispered, tears mixing with the rain on her face.
"I've never cared about anyone before," Victor admitted, his voice rough.
He reached up, cupping her cheek, and kissed her softly in the dark.
The tender moment was shattered by a loud buzz from Harper's pocket.
She pulled out her phone and opened a video message.
May you like
It showed Declan Reeve holding a gun to Arthur's head in the pouring rain.
"Bring me the drive, Victor, or your best friend dies."
