Chapter 11 - The Mathematics of Death
The electronic beep of the breaching charges flatlined into a solid, high-pitched tone.
"Cover her!" Evie yelled, dropping into a crouch.
I threw my body entirely over Mara, burying my face into the crook of her neck just as the front of the veterinary clinic erupted. The explosion was deafening, a concussive wave of heat and pulverized cinderblock that blew the heavy steel door clean off its hinges. It sailed over our heads, smashing into the back wall of the clinic.
Through the thick, choking cloud of gray dust, the tactical lasers cut through the darkness like crimson spiderwebs.
"Clear! Clear!" a voice barked in English.
Heavy boots crunched over the debris. They were swarming in, assault rifles raised. But Evie hadn't been waiting for them to enter. She had been calculating the exact trajectory of the blast.
As the first three operatives stepped through the smoke, they slipped.
In the three seconds before the door blew, Evie had shattered a massive glass jug of industrial iodine and mineral oil from the veterinary supply shelf directly across the threshold. The slick mixture coated the linoleum.
The point man lost his footing, his rifle wildly discharging into the ceiling. The ricocheting bullets struck a rusted, pressurized oxygen tank in the corner.
Evie didn't flinch. She had thrown a heavy steel scalpel not at the men, but directly at the exposed, frayed electrical wiring ripped loose by the door explosion.
The scalpel wedged perfectly between the live wires. Sparks showered down like a deadly firework display, igniting the pressurized oxygen venting from the ruptured tank.
FWOOSH.
A wall of blue and yellow flame engulfed the entryway. The front line of Vanguard operatives screamed, stumbling backward, their tactical gear catching fire.
The chaos was absolute. The men outside the clinic retreated from the sudden inferno, their formation broken. The helicopter spotlight overhead swerved wildly, the pilot startled by the sudden eruption of fire from the building.
"Evie, what did you do?" I gasped, coughing through the acrid smoke.
"I leveled the playing field," she said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. She walked calmly through the smoke, picking up an assault rifle dropped by one of the burning men. It was nearly as big as she was. She didn't aim it; she simply tossed it to me. "Shoot the fire extinguisher on the wall above the door. Now, David!"
I grabbed the heavy weapon, my hands slick with Mara’s blood. I didn't know how to shoot, but I didn't have to be precise. I aimed at the red cylinder mounted above the burning doorway and pulled the trigger.
The gun bucked violently. The extinguisher exploded, sending a massive, blinding cloud of white chemical foam down onto the fire and the remaining Vanguard operatives outside, completely neutralizing their visibility.
"The back door," Evie commanded. "Before the smoke clears."
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"I can't move her!" I yelled. "She's bleeding too much! And the baby is coming!"
Mara grabbed my wrist. Her skin was freezing, but her grip was like a vice. "David," she panted, her eyes wide with a terrifying, primal urgency. "It's time. I have to push. I have to push right now."
