For God’s sake! How many of them are they? White thought, waiting for Vigil-Three’s reply.
“I’m . . . on the landing between the second and third floor. West-side staircase. The bullets hit the vest. I’m good, I think.”
“Good copy, Vigil-Three.”
White waited for XJD-31 to jump in, knowing they were listening. Hadn’t they heard Vigil-Three’s plea for help?
“XJD-31 from Vigil-One,” White said, more than a little irritated with how the mobile communications unit was managing the situation. “Did you get Vigil-Three’s last? He needs assistance, and I need agents to secure safe passage for Flower.”
“We copy, Vigil-One. Please note that the local police are now on site and that I’ve lost comms with Vigil-Two, Four, Five, and Six. Stand by for more info.”
White couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What kind of clusterfuck is this? he asked himself, knowing that this shitshow was partially his fault. No, that wasn’t true. It was all his fault.
He glanced at Veronica, whose cheeks had thankfully started to regain some color. “I need you to go back in the bathroom,” he said to her.
“No fucking way,” she replied, stunning him. “I’m done hiding. Let the fuckers come.”
White watched her in admiration as she removed the Bishop knife from the assassin’s back in one swift motion. White heard the man moan, but nothing more. He didn’t move or speak. Just a low moan of pain. White reached for the small of his back and handed Veronica the pistol he had seized from one of the gunmen.
“You remember how to use one of these?” he asked.
Veronica didn’t respond, but she popped the magazine out, checked how many rounds were left, and slammed the magazine back into the pistol’s grip. She then assumed a good firing position and used the bathroom’s doorframe to partially conceal her location. White moved to the connecting doors and did the same. Despite everything that had happened, a painful smirk appeared on his cracked lips. Veronica had saved his life. There was no question about it. She had definitely inherited her father’s tenacity and resolve, but she was also a fearless, intrepid woman of her own. With Veronica, there was no imitation of any sort, no artificial emotions or gestures. Everything she said or did was genuine.
“Thanks for saving my life,” he said, just loud enough for Veronica to hear him.
“Don’t mention it,” she replied the same way. “But don’t ever forget it.”
He had no intention—none whatsoever—of forgetting anything that had happened that evening. In that very moment, he swore that he would find whoever had put a target on Veronica’s head and hunt him, her, or them down to the ends of the earth if he had to.
“Clay?” Veronica called out. “You still have that ring of yours?”
He looked at her, confused. “Are you kidding?”
“I saw you pick it up,” she said. “C’mon, send it over. Quickly.”
White dug into his pocket with his nongun hand and pulled out the diamond engagement ring. He lobbed it to her. She snagged it cleanly midair.
“Ask me again,” she said.
“Now? You want to do this now?” Had she lost her mind?
“Ask the damn question, Clayton. I’m old fashioned.”
“Veronica Hammond, will you marry me?”
While still holding her pistol, Veronica unceremoniously slipped the engagement ring onto her own finger. “Yes, I will.”
White didn’t know if he should laugh or cry.
“I’ll be honest, this is not exactly how I expected things to turn out,” he said.
“Me neither, but here we are,” she replied. “If we don’t make it out of here, I want the whole world to know we were together when it went down.”
White looked at his new fiancée. Her makeup had streaked down her face, and her eyes and nose were red. Dark bruises had already started to show up on her neck, but Veronica still looked amazing. He would do anything for her.
White could hear people running in the hallway, just outside their rooms. Then everything became quiet. He knew what was going on. Bad guys were stacking on both sides of their doors, waiting for the order to breach.
“Here we go,” White said, once again pressing the emergency button on his radio. “Get ready.”
For the benefit of the mobile communication unit, White continued, “This is Vigil-One, we’re in Flower’s room and about to be overrun.”
This time, whoever was manning the radio responded right away.