Storm of Lightning by Richard Paul Evans Page A

took them into the bathroom to make a rope while I looked out the door’s peephole. Jack crouched down behind Taylor.
    â€œYou should put some pillows down so when he hits the floor, it’s not so loud,” Taylor said.
    Jack frowned. “You’re right.”
    â€œWhat, you don’t like that?”
    â€œI was just looking forward to body slamming an Elgen guard onto the floor,” Jack said.
    Taylor put her hand on my back so she could read my mind and see what I was seeing. A minute later the man came out of the room across from us. Then he turned and looked at our door.
    He’s coming, I thought.
    Taylor leaned back and whispered into Jack’s ear.
    The man touched our doorknob; then I heard something metallic slide inside the lock. I glanced over at Taylor, who had moved to my left side so the man wouldn’t see her before he entered.
    Don’t reboot him until he’s inside the room , I thought.
    Taylor nodded.
    The lock clicked. The doorknob slowly turned; then the door began to open. The man was halfway inside the room before he saw Taylor and me crouched down behind the door.
    Now , I thought.
    Taylor bowed her head. The man froze with confusion. Jack grabbed him by the front of his shirt, then pulled him forward, slamming him face-forward to the ground. I pushed the door shut with my foot as I grabbed the man’s leg and pulsed. His body went limp.
    Jack pulled the man’s gun from its holster, pinning the man down with his knee in the small of his back. “We got him.”
    â€œOstin, let’s get out of here,” I said.
    â€œStill working on it,” he said.
    â€œWork faster,” I said. “Taylor, open the window.”
    Taylor tried to open the window but couldn’t. It had been painted shut.
    â€œYou better help her,” I said to Jack, keeping my hand on the prone man. “Ostin, hurry!”
    Jack got up and, after several attempts, pushed the window open. Then Ostin and the others came out of the bathroom carrying their makeshift rope. Ostin tied one end of the sheets around the radiator, then threw the opposite end out the window.
    â€œYou sure those knots are tight?” Jack asked.
    Ostin nodded. “It will hold. I’d bet my life on it.”
    â€œGood,” he said, turning back. “Because you’re going first.”
    Jack came back over and put his knee into the small of our prisoner’s back. The man was wearing cargo pants and a black, long-sleeve shirt, but nothing with the Elgen insignia. He also wore a knit mask with slits for eyes.
    â€œI want to see this guy’s face,” I said to Jack. “Let’s roll him over.”
    We rolled the unconscious man to his back; then Jack pulled off his mask.
    Taylor gasped.
    â€œI don’t believe it,” Jack said.
    â€œBetter hold up,” I said to Ostin, who was nervously straddling the windowsill, about to climb out.
    â€œWhat?” He looked back at the man. “Do you know who it is?”
    â€œYes,” I said. “Let’s lift him onto the bed.”
    â€œYou know this guy?” Nichelle asked.
    â€œHis name is Gervaso. And he’s not supposed to be alive.”

M cKenna turned the room light on while Jack and I lifted Gervaso up onto one of the beds. Jack checked him again for weapons and this time found a Special Ops knife in a sheath strapped to his right shin. Jack unstrapped the sheath and slid it into his own belt while everyone else gathered around the bed.
    â€œHow do you know him?” Nichelle asked.
    â€œHe was our trainer from the resistance,” McKenna said.
    â€œThen he’s a good guy?”
    â€œHe was,” Ostin said. “We don’t know what he’s doing here. Or why he’s alive and everyone else is dead.”
    â€œMaybe he betrayed the others,” Nichelle said.
    â€œHe wouldn’t betray them,” Jack said. “He was awarded the Distinguished Service