Grace held onto Angela's arm as they entered into the kitchen. She grabbed two of the pointiest knife she could find and picked one up for her companion as well.

"What do we do?" Angela whispered, her voice trembling.

Before Grace could answer, she heard voices outside. She bit her bottom lip, weighing the options of running or staying put.

There had to be a back staircase somewhere...if they could just get out.

"Come on."

They made their way across the chrome kitchen and snuck up to the two swinging doors on the other side. Grace peeked up over the window and saw that there was an exit sign across the hall.

"Are you a fast runner?" She asked.

Angela opened her mouth to reply, but Grace had already flung open the doors and was pulling her across the hallway. There were five men on their right, who immediately jumped into pursuit.

As Grace had expected, the exit opened up into another stairway, as well as a door that led outside.

Without hesitation, she shoved the exit door open to find a line of terrorists on the other side.

"Back up, back up!" She shouted to Angela and sprinted up the stairs. "Huge mistake," She gasped. Now they had two groups chasing them.

The pounding of footsteps instantly filled the echoing concrete stairway.

"Go, go, go!" Grace murmured, mostly to herself, as she willed her legs to go faster.

Gunshots rang out, the noise magnified by the close quarters, and Grace instinctively ducked. How long were these stairs?

She looked up and saw a green sign that had an arrow pointing left and read: Dach

The roof.

She lunged for the door located a few feet away and yanked Angela outside. Once she was on the other side, she quickly reached onto her tiptoes and slid the emergency lock into place.

Grace ran to the smooth ledge as cold wind whipped her hair around and saw another building that was slightly lower, about twenty feet away. The chasm in between was enough to make her stomach drop. She threw her two knives over to the other roof and backed away.

She licked her dry lips and nodded, sweeping her eyes over the flat roof. "Angela," she said, trying to stay calm.

Angela kept glancing at the door that was being pounded on from the other side.

"We don't have a lot of time and we've got to get out of here," Grace said.

"Yeah, I—I know," Angela said, gulping.

"We're going to have to jump across this roof onto the other one."

"What?!" Angela gasped, racing to the ledge and looking down the five-story drop.

Grace backed up, ignoring the creaking of the door, as the attackers tried to get through. She let out a short breath and started running.

Don't look, just jump...don't look...don't look...

Her feet left the concrete and she lunged through the air. Her heart leaped into her throat for a split second before she crashed onto the roof below.

Her knees raked across the rough surface and she rolled five times before coming to a stop.

Panting heavily, she hissed in pan and sat up. Both of her knees were solid red and her body hurt, but nothing was broken.

She grabbed her knives and beckoned to Angela. "Come on!" She yelled.

Angela wrung her hands, her face the image of sheer panic. "I can't—I—I just can't!"

"You have to!" Grace shouted back, worry rising inside of her. "Just don't think about it and jump."

The hinges on the door gave a single groan and a few popped out of place.

"You have to do it right now!"

Angela backed up, visibly breathing heavily.

C'mon, you don't have enough time... Grace silently begged.

The door crashed open, revealing a flood of terrorists, just as Angela raced forward.

Grace watched in horror as they let loose their bullets, but Angela had already left the roof.

She saw one of the terrorists take perfect aim and fire.

Angela hit the roof without any resistance.

Grace scrambled over to her, knowing that if that bullet hadn't killed her, the fall would've.

She dragged her with borrowed strength behind an air conditioning unit as another round of bullets fired all around. One nicked Grace's shoulder, but she barely flinched. She hunkered down behind the metal air unit and made sure Angela was safe as well. She was unconscious, but her pulse was beating rapidly in her neck.

Grace pressed her hand against her forehead—cold and clammy. There was a nasty gash on her right temple that was oozing profusely.

"You cannot hide!" Someone with a thick German accent called. "There are too many of us. Even so, we will find you—cut off your fingers one by one."

Grace ignored him and stripped off her jacket, surveying the bullet wound in Angela's upper back.

He fell silent for a few moments before adding, "We know about your mother—how much she means to you. She lives at the East Tree Nursing Home in Virginia, no?"

Grace froze for half an instant before gritting her teeth and wrapping her jacket underneath Angela's back and bringing the sleeves forward to make a tourniquet. "Angela, can you hear me?"

As expected, she was unresponsive.

Grace knew that they'd already sent men into the building they were on top of—they needed to get down.

She peeked around the air unit to see that the other men had retreated. She half carried, half dragged Angela to the small doorway, panting heavily.

As she slowly made her way down the steps, she knew she wouldn't have enough time to get out and escape...maybe she could find a room and barricade herself down there...

The building seemed to be an accounting office, or possibly used for real estate. She hobbled into the nearest office and propped Angela up on the furthest wall.

After catching her breath for a few seconds, Grace tried to drag a large beige file cabinet in front of the door, but stopped.

There were already footsteps coming from down the hall, moving fast. There didn't seem to be many, but Grace didn't have time to barricade the door—and they didn't have any locks on them, either.

She positioned herself outside the door, gripping her kitchen knives tightly, hoping that the footsteps would pass by. Of course, by sheer coincidence, the steps slowed to a halt and Grace saw the tip of a boot enter into the office.

She swung her arm around, but a hand shot up and grabbed her wrist, instantly pointing a gun to her head.

The man kicked the door all the way open.

"Nolan?" Grace gasped.

He was staring at her, gun still to her head, with a baffled expression. He gaped at her in disbelief. "Grace! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

His hazel eyes sharpened. "You almost stabbed me!"

Grace yanked her arm free of his grasp and pushed the barrel of his gun away from her head with the tip of her finger. "And you almost shot me."

"Why'd you go into another building? We're trying to get out of the city!"

"You're in the same building, idiot!"

Collin skirted past Nolan and entered the office. "If you two are done flirting, we have terrorists to escape from."

"We weren't flirting," Nolan grumbled, slinging his machine gun across his back.

"Angela's in bad shape," Grace said, following him inside. She knelt next to Angela's limp form. Her dark skin was deathly pale.

Nolan pulled out a compact medical kit from underneath his jacket and spread the contents on the floor. "What happened?"

"We were being chased up a stairway and had to jump from the roof of the hotel onto this one. They broke through the door and shot her just as her feet left the concrete."

"So she didn't have anything to break her fall?" Collin asked.

"No."

Collin knelt down as well. He cast a worried glace at Angela. "Any sign of Jim?"

"No," Grace said again.

"Help me roll her onto her stomach," Nolan said.

Grace did so and he began tearing her shirt near the bullet wound.

"Collin, you need to keep watch by the door," Grace instructed, holding a roll of gauze in her hand while Nolan positioned a scalpel over Angela's skin to extract the bullet.

Collin's eyes flicked up nervously, but he nodded and stood guard just inside the door.

"I thought you were a goner," Nolan said, placing two fingers on either side of the oozing wound.

"I'm pretty clever when it comes to cheating death," Grace took a cloth and blotted away the excess blood so Nolan could see better.

"Can't argue with that,"

"How was Collin? He looks like a scared rabbit."

Nolan glanced at Collin for half a second before trying to find a clean entry point to dig out the bullet. "He's fine, probably saw more people get killed than he would've liked."

"Did he shoot anybody?"

"Hardly," Nolan's brow bent as he slid the scalpel into Angela's skin and began making tiny up and down motions to wriggle the bullet out.

"And what about you?" Grace asked softly. She grabbed a spool of thread and a needle.

Nolan gave a dry laugh. "Killing people is second nature for me."

"No it's not. Unless you're a psychopath. Which, you're close, but not quite there yet."

He pulled out the bullet with a pair of tweezers and set it aside as Grace moved in to stitch up the opening.

Nolan watched as Grace's hands moved swiftly.

"You're not the monster you think you are." She added, not looking up.

"Oh, really? You're too kind."

Grace made the final stitch and looked up at him sharply. "You know, I'm getting sick of your whining. Need I remind you that you didn't kill the man on that cargo ship? Need I remind you that you don't have to do any of this, yet you still do?"

"I killed my squad," Nolan bluntly. "Pardon me for not forgiving myself so easily. I still see their faces every time I close my eyes."

Grace glared as she put away her things. "Well, here's my advice. Get over it."

Nolan lifted a brow, almost in amusement.

"Bad things happen, mistakes are made." Her voice was still firm, but more gentle. "You have to get over yourself in order to become someone other than the person you used to be. We aren't our mistakes, Nolan. Stop acting like you are."

Nolan didn't know how to respond, but Collin saved him from having to.

"We've got incoming!" He whispered.

Nolan handed Grace his extra gun and they took defensive positions behind overturned file cabinets and tables.

They waited with baited breath as the first wave of men passed by the door. Grace peered through the scope of her AK and steadied her breath. She'd studied so much about guns, but could never seem to get good accuracy. However, she'd had good practice over the past couple of days.

The black-masked terrorists checked inside the office across the hall.

As soon as they made a move to come into their room, Nolan fired the first shot.

Grace aimed her crosshairs at the next target's head and pulled the trigger. Blood spurted across the wall behind the man as he collapsed. Collin fired next, then Nolan.

They held their position for hours it seemed. The narrow doorway didn't allow for more than three men to come in at once, so it was easier to keep them at bay.

They only needed one bullet per man, and the machine gun clips had more than enough ammunition. For a while, anyway.

Collin was the first to run out, then Grace. The terrorists were slow in coming now; perhaps they had retreated after losing at least twenty men, but Grace wasn't so sure.

She tossed a knife to Collin and the three of them waited for half an hour before making a move.

"We need to get Angela out of here," Nolan said, standing up.

"And find Jim," Collin added, scooping Angela in his arms with a rigid expression. His babyish features seemed aged now and there were hard lines in his brow.

Grace went to retrieve more weapons from the bodies, but paused for a second. Crimson stained the carpet and splattered the walls. Black-clothed bodies almost made a barricade on the threshold. She tightened her lips as she gathered multiple clips and made sure each one was full of bullets. She remembered all the girlish fantasies of her childhood; a cottage along the beach, seven children, and a job as an acrobat in the circus. She smiled softly to herself. It still sounded pretty good.

Grace was happy to find a pair of tactical knives on one of the men and helped herself to them. Soon they were ready to leave.

Collin carried Angela, claiming that Grace and Nolan could do the shooting and he'd do the heavy work. Grace had to admit that she was surprised his scrawny arms could carry anything. She glanced at Nolan, who was walking beside her. Then again, he wasn't of impressive build, either.

He caught her looking at him and his brow lowered as he cleared his throat. She averted her eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

Now she was acting stupid. Lovely. And it was all Nolan's fault. She'd sworn against romance long ago and she wasn't about to distract herself now.

She shook her head and focused on the task at hand. They made their way quickly through the deserted hallway and went down the steps. Grace expected another terrorist at every corner, but the city seemed to be nearly empty. Buses must have taken most of the citizens to safety overnight, which was a relief. Those who had chosen to stay behind were probably hiding from the gunfire or were found out by the terrorists and killed.

"Where do you think he'd be?" She asked Nolan as Collin was beginning to lag behind.

"Jim? Probably hunkering down back at the hotel. It didn't look like the enemy stormed the downstairs area once they saw where we went."

The cold breeze outside was like a balm to Grace's skin. She breathed in the smoky air deeply before they went back to the hotel.

"We can stay here with Angela," Grace said as they entered through the glass doors.

The lobby was a mess. It looked as if a herd of elephants had stampeded through the small space. "Jim?" Nolan called. "We're clear!"

Collin gently set Angela against the wall. Nolan went off to look for Jim as Grace knelt next to her.

She stirred slightly. Her eyes barely opened and she muttered something unintelligible.

Grace places a hand on her shoulder. "Angela? Can you hear me?"

"...yes." She whispered. "We're...alive?"

"We all made it," Collin said.

Angela closed her eyes again and winced in pain. "Tell my family..."

"Don't talk like that." Grace said firmly. "We're on a very tight schedule and I don't have time for you to die. You'll just have to save that for later, got it?"

The faintest of smiles touched Angela's lips and she gave a single nod.

Nolan came back shortly afterwards with Jim by his side.

"You made it!" Collin exclaimed.

Blood covered one side of his face, but other than that, Jim seemed to be okay.

"Barely," he said, his deep voice hoarse, "I figured the best way to escape was to wait. I thought you all were goners."

"It was...pretty close," Nolan said. "But we need to get moving, they could send in more men with heavier artillery soon."

The five of them made their way cautiously through the city, careful to avoid the main roads. By the looks of it, this town was far less active than Kavala. Barely any cars were crashed in the street corners and nothing seemed to be too damaged. Thankfully the US government hadn't dropped a bomb on it like last time.

As they made their way down a back alley, Grace lapsed into thought again. She honestly couldn't imagine Howard giving the order to drop acid on a populated city like this. It seemed more counterproductive than helpful.

Most people would be evacuated, but it was nearly impossible to let the world know about the attack and keep it away from Egor and his men.

They had to reach Howard and tell him that the devices could be shut down harmlessly.

If we had the algorithm...

"Did you ever find out what the code was to shut down the EMPs?' She asked Jim, who was taking a turn carrying Angela.

"No, the only thing we found was that there was an algorithm and how the devices used a coordinating system to function. Our research got a bit...cut short."

Grace nodded to herself. "How many people do you think Egor has involved with this?"

"You mean politically? I would say he's bloody smart enough to reign in outside help. If there's one thing I've learned about Dimyan Egor, it's that he's raised up more than a rebellious militia. He's created a physical army, like the men back there, plus gained government power." His worn face grew thoughtful. "There's no way he could've found researchers that advanced to create the EMPs without seeking prominent help. And I'm sure the funding wasn't cheap, either."

"Even with the heroin cartels he was running?" Nolan interjected.

Jim shrugged. "That probably paid for a lot of his dirty work. But for Egor to have done all of this without getting caught, he must've played by some of the rules. I mean, permits, shipping orders, you name it. Someone had to get him in."

Grace chewed the side of her cheek. Did that mean there could be a traitor sitting in the seat of governmental power? If so, they were going to have one heck of a time finding out who it was.

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Hello everyone! MERRY (almost) CHRISTMAS! So sorry for not getting a chapter out last week, time kind of got away from me =P I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

~Do you think Angela's going to survive?

~How do you think they'll decode this crazy algorithm?

~What are your thoughts on the chapter?

Thank you so much for your patience and for reading; I appreciate it so much! (don't forget to comment, vote, and share!)