Henri Beck & the Hidden Library | 📖

12

A thick, suffocating silence filled the room like mustard gas. Henri remembered reading how the Germans used the poison to nullify their enemies in the First World War. The gun in Sergei's gloved hand was performing a similar job.

Henri clenched his jaw as he glared at the mercenary.

"How did you find us?"

"How did you even get in here?" Thea asked shortly after.

Malik directed a question of his own toward the sweating Agent Callahan. "So your security lets the big, scary Serbian dude in but not me?"

"Seriously, kid? Now is not the time—"

"Shut up!" Sergei bellowed. Everyone went quieter than an armistice. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he exhaled out his nostrils and shook his head. Keeping his gun trained on the FBI agent, he peered at the young trio in front of him. "You two." With his free hand, he pointed at the Beck siblings. "You're coming with me."

"Like hell we are," Thea argued.

Sergei narrowed his gaze at her. Henri knew his sister was tough, but she wasn't made from titanium. He watched helplessly as he watched her solid exterior crumble a bit under the force of the man's stare. It reminded him of a glorious old structure finally succumbing to age and the elements.

"Boss said to bring you back alive." He clicked the safety off his weapon. "But this is my operation. She will understand if I must make judgment call."

Henri swallowed hard. Sergei didn't look like any judge he'd ever seen before. But he sure did look like an executioner. As he tried not to think about dying, his brain latched onto a single part of the mercenary's last sentence. His eyes widened.

"She?" He tilted his head. "Your boss is a woman."

"No more talking." His upper lip curled. "You two. Brother and Sister Beck. You're coming with me."

"It's Thea," she said through gritted teeth.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't care!"

"What about us?" Malik gestured at himself and Agent Callahan.

The mercenary paused. "I must follow protocol. Nothing personal."

Henri didn't need to ask what the protocol was. He glanced at Malik with wide eyes. The boy didn't seem afraid of the implications, though. He looked more annoyed than anything. As for the special agent, well, his entire face resembled a puddle. Sweat streamed down from the sides of his face.

"You never answered the girl," he said, his voice shaking. "How'd you get in here? This building has some of the best security in the—"

"You assume I broke in," Sergei interjected. He flashed the man a smile. "Silly American. It is easy to trick you people. Getting inside was easy." His eyes flickered over to the Beck siblings. "Getting outside...now that will be tricky."

"Right...right..." The agent glanced at something beneath his desk. Sergei hadn't picked up on it, but Henri had. At first, he attributed the shiftiness in Callahan's gaze to his apparent nervousness. The man was sweating bullets after all. But after the third glance beneath the desk, he knew something was up.

Sergei shuffled away from the agent's desk and toward Henri and Thea. He snatched Thea by her wrist while motioning for Henri to fall in line with a quick jerk of his chin. His gun never left Callahan. Meanwhile, Malik stood off to the side with his jaw muscles threatening to protrude from the side of his mouth. He had his fists clenched tightly atop his pockets. His angry eyes had been reduced to slits.

"Do not make this difficult," Sergei grumbled as he tugged Thea toward the door. Henri reluctantly trailed behind them. "You are lucky the boss is kind. If up to me, you'd be dead already."

That's comforting.

As they approached the door to Callahan's office, Henri looked at Malik. They didn't speak. What was there to say? The boy couldn't help without the risk of getting shot, and Henri couldn't expect him to risk his life for him again. He wouldn't have even wanted him to. He didn't want anyone getting hurt over any of this.

If Sergei's boss—who may or may not have been Monet Delacroix—instructed him to bring them to her alive, then perhaps she wasn't as malevolent as he thought her to be. All she wanted was to find the Library of Alexandria and whatever might've been hiding within its ruins. Was stopping them worth Henri's life? The life of his family?

He was leaning toward no.

"See?" Sergei let go of Thea so he could grab the doorknob. "This didn't have to be so—"

"Get down!" Callahan shouted.

The entire time, Henri had been watching the agent inch closer and closer to something beneath his desk. Something was hidden in one of his drawers—something Sergei hadn't yet noticed or accounted for. He might've been clever and relentless, but one thing he wasn't was thorough.

Henri hit the deck. Malik followed suit. Both boys scurried for the edges of the room as Agent Callahan rose from his seat with a pistol of his own in his hands. They didn't shake. All prior nervousness had left his face, only to be replaced by steadfast resolve and surging confidence. Had it all been an act to get Sergei to lower his guard? Or was there enough adrenaline rushing through the agent's veins to kill a baby elephant?

Sergej squinted at the man before glancing at the gun in his own hand.

"I always keep a spare," Callahan said.

No other words were spoken. Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously.

Sergei had been pushed into the wall. His firearm clattered to the ground. He pressed his hand to the newly opened wound in his shoulder. Blood pushed through the gaps between his thick fingers. Gritting his teeth, he glared at the agent across from him.

Henri let out a breath of relief before climbing back to his feet. He turned to Agent Callahan, preparing to thank him for saving the day, but he never got the words out. They turned to bile in the back of his throat.

Agent Callahan had fallen back into his seat. Both of his hands were clamped around his throat. Streaks of red trickled out the sides of his wet mouth. His eyes were losing color fast. Across the room, Thea stared on in horror. Malik took a few shaky steps backward, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

"He's...he's a lot taller than the targets in the...in the firing range," Agent Callahan managed to sputter out with a bloody laugh. He pointed a finger dripping with burgundy liquid at the door. "Get outta here."

Henri's hands were shaking. His entire body was shaking.

"Y-You've been shot." That much was obvious, but his brain was struggling to process what just happened. "You need help. You need an ambulance. We—"

"You kids gotta go," Callahan urged. "Right...now." He could barely get his words out. More blood continued to spill past lips.

But if Henri and his friends stayed, Sergei would get up again. He'd kill them all. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the mercenary reaching for his fallen gun.

"We..." Henri swallowed hard. "We gotta go." Thea and Malik shook themselves out of their horrified dazes before nodding.

"Don't move!' Sergei ordered.

The trio had already made a beeline for the door. Once they left the office, they didn't look back. Not even when the second gunshot rang out behind them. Not even when the building's alarms went off and painted the halls red with strobing light. They kept moving until they found an emergency staircase that led them outside.

And they didn't look back.