The Gender Lie (The Gender Game #3) by Bella Forrest (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📕

tape securing the cardboard cartons. I frowned, and examined one of the boxes. They were devoid of writing except for a series of handwritten numbers on the top. Looking around the room, I saw a clipboard dangling from a nail and fetched it.

It was a list of numbers, followed by a description of each item contained within.

Solomon—look at the numbers. There are only a few boxes that have medical supplies listed within the contents.

He stopped and looked at me. Okay. There are a lot of boxes, Violet—can you narrow it down any more?

I scanned the numbers. Most of the first five digits were the same—it was the final four that were different. Look for boxes ending in 4546, 5332, or 8991.

He started sifting through the boxes, and I did the same, humming the numbers in my head to remember them. I found the first box under three other boxes in the second stack.

I got 5332, I conveyed to Solomon. I set it aside and pulled out my knife, cutting through the tape and cardboard. I shuffled around the contents of the box, looking for something, anything, that vaguely resembled the picture that Thomas had supplied of the laser. The box was filled mostly with vials of medicine and boxes of syringes.

I placed it aside just as I heard Solomon’s knife cutting through another box.

Which is that? I subvocalized, turning back to the stacks.

8991, he replied, ripping the box open. I continued to scan the other boxes, looking for box number 4546 in the midst of the chaos. After a moment, Solomon’s voice came through my ear bud. Not here.

I could feel the tension coiling around us. Every second we were in the room was a second too long. I eased myself through two stacks of boxes, being careful not to press against them more than necessary. They were precariously stacked, and swayed under my passage.

Solomon turned to see what I was up to, his expression incredulous. I winced as I finally got through, expelling the breath I had sucked in to make myself thinner.

There were more boxes piled up in front of me, and I scanned them quickly. I found the last box, number 4546, under several boxes. As quietly as I could, I moved the other boxes aside, and pulled out my knife again.

I cut through the tape and felt disgusted as I gazed at the clear plastic tubing for IVs.

It’s not here! I subvocalized, my frustration evident even though the vocalizer.

Then Owen will get it. Pass me your bag. And your gun too. Quickly, Vi! I can hear them coming.

I paused, and then heard what he heard—the distinct sound of boots on the linoleum in the hall. I pushed the bag through the small gap between the boxes. Solomon grabbed it, and then reached for the gun.

The footsteps were growing closer and I hesitated—if I pushed through the gap before they opened the door, there was a chance that they would see the boxes still moving when they opened it.

Go invisible, I ordered, as I sat down my gun and engaged my suit.

Solomon quickly placed both of our bags on the floor, as well as his gun, and faded from view. I risked a small amount of movement as I stepped a little bit further behind the stack, the pins and needles tingling through my extremities.

The door handle was starting to turn, and I saw a crack appear in the door as it swung open, emitting a light too bright to be anything but a flashlight. I held my breath, hoping that Solomon had thought to move behind a stack of boxes.

I ducked my head behind a box, my heart thudding loudly against my ribcage. I gently eased my back against the box and watched the circular light as it panned slowly toward me. A sudden ripple started as the light neared the center of the room, allowing me to see Solomon’s eyes filled with horror.

12

Violet

A loud burst of static made Solomon, me, and the light emitted by the flashlight jump to the left. I heard a loud curse, and the sound of a hand slapping against fabric. The light danced against the wall, just to the left of Solomon’s position.

Get down slowly, I ordered, unable to make him out.

I didn’t know if he followed my order, because another burst of static sounded, followed by, “I’ve got three hostiles in Warehouse B. They seem to be –”

There was a loud sound, and then a panicked series of transmissions.

“Shots fired! Man down! We need backup.”

Through the walls, I could hear the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps, followed by the soft popping of gunfire. I leaned out and saw that the door was wide open and the guards were gone. I relaxed my tensed muscles, and I saw Solomon doing the same.

There was another burst of gunfire, and I quickly switched over to the main channel. Owen, what’s going on?

There was a momentary pause, and then—Quinn was pulling a box and the stack shifted, alerting a guard. We’re handling it.

Owen, more are coming to you.

Yes, Violet, I am aware. We only have a few more boxes to search.

I paused, my mind working. Is there anything in there we could use as a distraction? To buy you more time?

It was Quinn who responded. Actually, funny that you should bring that up, Violet—there’s an entire crate of explosives in here…

No, I countermanded, my mind racing. However… any way you could rig a small charge?

There was a pause, before Owen responded. I see what you’re getting at. Quinn’s on it. Our timeline is all messed up though. Thoughts?

I looked at my watch. We had agreed on ten minutes because that was how long it would take for roadblocks to come up after our burglary. Not from me, but I’m guessing Thomas has an idea. Thomas?

Well… as a matter of fact… I think I can buy you guys… five more minutes?

I crunched some numbers in my