Danger Room Novels & Stories

Aria was alerted immediately and picked up the gun which she had been hiding for a long time and whispered through the microphone, telling her team to be ready. Sam had come back and he looked frustrated and tired but one could tell that he was angry enough to commit a murder. Bob was with him and was a little injured and had scars over his face and arms. They still had quite a lot of men with them and many of them were minorly injured. The ones who had severe injuries were sent to the hospital immediately after the bombing and those who were killed were left behind recklessly. Aria and Noah at once knew they had returned and she jumped off the table with a confidence that said she had nothi

Put their lives in danger> She realized with a sick feeling that this was a man with no conscience, no morals, no scruples. Her heart ached for Sam and Loraine and what they would have to face with this stunning revelation. Her house had been filled with men dressed in black, speaking in low tones. Dan Killian himself had arrived once Gabe called to tell him they had the big fish. Then Killian had called Homeland Security and three more grim-looking men had shown up. Rachel heard snippets of conversation as Lincoln Harris was transferred to the custody of Homeland Security and DRK agents agreed to transport the others downtown to the federal building.

Before I could even think of a comeback a dog just ran into the road from nowhere and I screamed. “JER LOOK OUT!!!” and when he did, he swerved the car to the right and we went straight into a food truck that was in the right lane. When they make accident scenes in movies, they make it seem like one has all the time in the world to make split second decisions that results in no casualties but that couldn’t be further from the truth. One moment the road was there, wide open and safe, the next I was screaming for Jeremy to look out and I saw was black.

For one second, he thinks it will be Sarah or a news alert. It is Adrian. Julian does not touch the phone. The message sits there anyway. “Do not believe everything people say for the cameras.” Julian reads it once. Then again. Heat moves through him, part anger, part want, part something more dangerous than either. Adrian knows. That is the problem. He knows what the answer sounded like. He knows what it did. And still, he said it. Julian picks up the phone. His thumb moves before he can soften the words.

The house began to sink, the bodies began to fall in and disappear. David didn’t back down from a fight. He’d want to face me. But being injured means all bets are off, when you’re desperate self preservation is all you care about. “Holy shit,” Dough said. Fire balls began to spit out of the ground like lava, this was a horror movie on steroids. I balled my hands into fists. “FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN,” I yelled. His laughter filled the air again, maniacal. I swirled around, wishing I had eyes in the back of my head. Murphy came to my side, and we floated back to back.

the same policeman tells us curtly as we walk up to him, and he leads me to the same room, the room that might just give me nightmares. Thank fuck I'm not claustrophobic, or I wouldn't know how I'd handle this fucking room with no furniture except a table and three chairs, blank walls, blank everything. "Good for you that you came back." the policeman says and I read his name tag - Daniel. Honestly, he looks like the type of dick that takes his anger out on black dudes. And women. And well, everyone who gets in his fucking way. I just nod in answer, Biden told me not to speak unless absolutely necessary.

A murmur spread instantly. Damian’s expression didn’t change. But his eyes They darkened. “And you?” the reporter asked him. “Do you see Ms. Voss the same way?” A pause. Long enough to matter. Then “No,” Damian said. The room stilled. “Then how do you see her?” the reporter pushed. Silence. Tension. And then “Dangerous,” he said. The word landed like a spark. And suddenly Everything was on fire. The questions came faster after that.

The safehouse war room smells of instant coffee, gun oil, and the faint ozone burn of overworked laptops. Damian stands at the head of the folding table, sleeves rolled to the elbows, bandage stark white against his forearm. Maps of Lagos glow on the screens behind him, red pins marking Horizon safehouses, blue dots for our assets. Three team members hover nearby, silent, waiting for orders.

“Everyone out! NOW!” The basement erupted into pandemonium. People were scrambling, screaming, pushing each other toward the door. The bodyguards were shouting orders, their voices overlapping with the beeping. Damien was pulling Richard up from the floor, half-carrying him as he tried to get him moving. Richard’s face was twisted with rage, but he was moving, his legs unsteady as Damien dragged him toward the exit. I was frozen. My feet wouldn’t move. I could only stare at the beeping remote, my mind blank with terror. This was it. This was how it ended. In a basement, with a bomb, surrounded by the man who had destroyed so many lives.

he muttered again, voice raw, cracking through the headset static. No response. Just the wind howling like ghosts. His boots crunched over scorched roots and twisted metal. The ruins of the safe-house loomed ahead – a collapsed shell of concrete and smoke, its security grid still sparking in flickers of red. Bodies lay scattered along the perimeter, friend and foe alike. Damien didn’t look at them. Not yet. Not until he heard it. A cough. Then a groan. He pivoted sharply, drawing his weapon – only to freeze as a figure dragged herself from beneath a mangled support beam.