Classified

Chapter 43 - "You ready?"

I pretty much follow the rest of the chapters until this whole situation ends so you shouldn't have a problem.

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Carter's words snapped Donovan back to reality. As she broke away from him, he mentally shook himself, trying to correct his thoughts. As if needing a physical barrier between them, he strapped on his gas mask, while she did the same. Carter's eyes didn't meet his as if forcing away her own racing thoughts.

When she placed her hand on the dusty button by the door, Donovan forced his mind to clear. She looked back, at him meeting his gaze. In response, he pulled out his gun out and held it downward with both hands. The weight of it was reassuring, helping regain his focus. He gave her a nod. The gray wall slid aside, revealing half of a bookcase, part of a desk and a winged chair.

Donovan slipped inside, the gravity of their situation landing hard. The familiar thrum of adrenaline coursed through his veins. The feel of it smothered any and all unwanted thoughts about the last five minutes. He raised his gun, surveying the room before him.

Though his mind was under his control again, there was still a part of it that wasn't. It was a part that was aware of Carter, the way she moved in behind him. The soft tread of her steps. The way his instincts burned with energy, an energy that made him want to protect her. Shield her from harm with his own body if it came to it. Knowing there was no stopping this new spike of feeling, he let it be.

Outside of the office, they took off down the hall. As they moved, Donovan swung his gun back and forth, checking each turn. They kept their footsteps as soft as possible, but the sound still bounced off the floor.

They made it to the second hallway, the radio remained silent in Donovan's ear. It was a foreboding quiet that ate away at him. As they hurried down the next hallway, voices made Donovan pause, his heart kicking up a notch, muscles tensing in anticipation. The deep resonant sound was muffled, but close. Donovan waved her onward. The chemistry room lay a few feet ahead.

He rushed for the open doorway, Carter right behind him. Along with the deep voices was the incessant beating of footsteps that belonged to large, muscular men. As they ducked into the chemistry classroom, the voices rose. Donovan tilted his head, as static crackled to life in his ear.

"Tanner, Vance do a double check of the chemistry room again."

Donovan looked at Carter.

"Hide," he whispered, pointing to a half filled table. "Don't make a move."

She didn't argue, mimicking how the rest of the class looked, slipping onto a stool at a half empty table and resting her head in her elbow. When he was certain she looked like the rest of the students, Donovan took a spot. He turned off the radio and laid his gun in his lap. The vibrations of the men's treads rattled the floor. Head buried in his arm, Donovan closed his eyes, breathing in slowly. His heart thudded in his chest but the quickened beat was one he knew well from years of training courses with his brothers. The men stepped into the classroom.

"Yes, sir. We're at his homeroom now," a deep voice said. "We're checking it again."

"Copy that," another bass voice replied.

Both men went silent as they walked down the rows. As they moved, Donovan tracked them. With each step he determined their weight, height and abnormalities in their tread that would give him an advantage. His mind whirred with information, gathering what it could from simply listening to them walk. Seconds stretched on.

The man went around each table. Every so often they would raise a student's head then lower it. A man bumped Donovan's back as he passed, the brush coiling his ready muscles. A soft thump sounded beside him and a second later a body slid along the edge of the table, it's weight falling against Donovan. Inwardly cursing, he calculated how this would hinder his plan. Deciding that it would be impossible to move the student without causing a noticeable sound, he would have to act quickly.