“And you should have stayed retired,” Elliot shot back.
“What the hell are you doing, Cade?” Dom shouted.
Cade’s gaze flicked to him. “My job.”
“Your job?” Dom’s voice cracked with disbelief. “Your job is with us!”
“Not anymore.”
“I had your fucking back with the family,” Griffin seethed, “and the whole time you were working with the enemy?”
Something flickered across Cade’s face—doubt, maybe, or guilt—before the mask of indifference slipped back into place. “We’re leaving with Dr. Keene now. Step back or I will order my team to shoot.”
“Do you even know what they’re doing?” Elliot gestured toward Keene, who was clutching a metal case to his chest like it contained the crown jewels.
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t.” Elliot lowered his voice, speaking directly to his cousin now. “We found Takahe Station. We saw what happened there. Dozens dead, Cade. All of them infected with the same thing that’s killing Tyler Grant right now.”
Cade’s eyes narrowed slightly. The only indication that Elliot’s words had hit their mark.
“Don’t listen to him,” Keene called from behind the protective circle. “He’s trying to manipulate you. We’re developing a cure, not a weapon.”
“Bullshit,” Rue spat, stepping up beside Elliot. “I found my friend’s body at Takahe. Maren Portillo. Remember her, Keene? The expedition leader you left to die when your first little experiment got out of control?”
Keene’s face twisted with irritation. “Unfortunate casualties in pursuit of scientific advancement.”
“Scientific advancement?” Noah scoffed. “You’re weaponizing an ancient pathogen that could wipe out half the planet.”
“Fuck,” Sabin muttered under his breath.
Elliot kept his eyes on Cade, searching for any sign that his words were getting through. “You’re not a killer, Cade. Not like this.”
For a heartbeat, it seemed like Cade might waver. His eyes locked with Elliot’s, and in them, Elliot saw the shadow of the boy who’d followed him around all summer when they were kids, the teenager who’d backed him up in every fight, the man who’d had his six in a dozen war zones.
Then Cade looked away.
“Stand down,” he ordered his men. “Let them pass.”
“What?” Keene sputtered. “You can’t?—”
“I said stand down!” Cade’s voice cracked like a whip. “I won’t fire on my family. Not even for Praetorian.”
The Praetorian guards hesitated, weapons still raised.
“No,” Keene snarled, his face contorting with rage. He lunged toward one of the distracted guards, yanking the sidearm from the man’s holster.
Time slowed to a crawl. Elliot saw the weapon come up and point at his chest, saw Keene’s finger close around the trigger.
Rue jumped in front of him.
And his heart fucking stopped.
The gunshot cracked through the loading bay, drowning out his shout. Rue jerked backward, a look of surprise crossing her face as crimson bloomed across her abdomen. She staggered, her hand instinctively pressing against the wound, then her knees buckled.
“Rue!” Elliot lunged for her, catching her before she hit the ground. The world around him exploded into chaos—shouting,gunfire, the thunder of boots on concrete—but all he could focus on was her face, the color draining from it with terrifying speed.
“No, Trouble. Stay with me.” His voice sounded strange in his own ears, distant and hollow as he dragged her behind a row of overturned equipment.
