I could hear the others running behind me.

Max was a half-step back, right on my heels. As we got closer, the flames became more defined. It seemed as if they were contained to the west wing, not surprising given the amount of security measures we had in place in case of an emergency, much like this one, so I wasn't too worried about the flames spreading. Still, the blaze consuming the west wing seemed particularly violent, the vibrant hues, peeking out through the thick grey smoke, lighting up the windows.

"Mel!"

I pulled to a stop at the sound of my name and glanced to the left as Lia and her squad came running towards us. There were ten people in her group which meant that there were sixteen of us. I wasn't sure where Alpha three was but they were likely on their way back here now. Good thing, too, because it looked as if we needed all the help we could get.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Lia yelled at me, her voice straining so that I could hear her over the roar of the impending flames.

I shook my head. "I don't know. We just got here."

Her eyes darted to the school and lingered there, watching the impending destruction with a look of awe and fear. "Where are the teachers?"

"We haven't seen anyone but you guys. But, since there aren't students littering the lawn right now, I'd say that things aren't really in the best shape. We need to get inside and scope it out and get everyone out. It looks like the flames are contained to the west wing."

"What's the plan?" She was looking to me now, to take control.

I wasn't sure why I'd been designated this role. She was just as capable as I was and so was Max. But, I didn't have time to argue about this. We had to act quickly. If the feeling in my gut was right, and it usually was, then this fire was no accident. The most important thing was to clear the building that was still full of underclassmen.

"Get everyone out," I announced to the group of students around me. "Go in groups and take a floor to clear. We have six floors of students to clear, so groups of two I guess. Each group takes a floor."

Everyone split off into groups, leaving four of us out. Max, Lia, Jason—a burly boy from Lia's squad, and me.

"Okay," I said to them, "go. But be careful. One thing we know for sure is that this fire is not an accident."

"You're sure?" Lia asked, cutting in with a sharp look at me before anyone could take a step towards the school. "I mean, Tasha has set off her fair share of fires in our room at all hours of the night. Bloody hell, it's possible that it was even her who started the blaze."

Natasha Fischer was my other roommate. The two of us shared a room with Lia. And, while Tasha was a technical whiz, one of the walking-computer-students on campus, and had set off several fires in our rooms over the years, by way of sparking technology and advances in explosives manufacturing, I just knew in my gut that this hadn't been an accidental fire set off by a student. This was an intentional act. I could feel it. The chance of this happening on a random night was extremely minimal—all students and staff were briefed in how to manage flames that erupted within the school to avoid any sort of catastrophe, which meant that, even if someone like Tasha had started the fire, they would have been able to put it out just as quickly.

Lia saw the resolution in my eyes. Her mouth tightened into a hard line. "Okay," she said. "Everyone keep your eyes peeled. Whoever set this thing could still be in the school. Stick to your communications units. Report when you've cleared your floor so that everyone is kept updated."

"Comms are out," Abraham Reeves called out from the back of the group. He was a tall boy, dark skinned and thin. He dimly resembled a giraffe with his long neck and limbs. "And so are cellphones. Looks like anything that requires an electromagnetic signal is gone." As soon as he mentioned it, I noticed that the tell-tale buzz of static, which usually emanated from the communications unit in my ear, was gone.

"Bloody hell," Cassie muttered a few feet. "Bastards."

"Okay, okay," Max said. "Stay calm. Standard procedures. Check your floor and then send all underclassmen out of the building. We need to get them to safety, that's our main objective. Go."

Everyone started off except for the four of us. Max turned to me now. "What are we doing, Mel?"

I met his eyes. "We're need to go to the west wing and try to find out who set this thing off but first we need to get the fire under control. Someone needs to get to Tasha and Henri. They need to get this signal back up so that we can all communicate with one another and so that we can get the fire under control. We really need that sprinkle system brought back up. Tasha and Henri can get them back online and then we need to get the two of them working on communications. We need their eyes on the cameras."

"I'll go find them. Henri said earlier that he was going to be late in the library. I'll start there," Jason said.

"I've got your back," Lia told him. Looking at me, she continued, "You and Max go to the west wing. We'll meet you there."

"Okay." I nodded.

Lia gave Max's hand a rough squeeze and kissed him quickly before she and Jason darted off into the front entrance of the school. Max and I went the opposite direction, heading around to the west wing. There was a secret back entrance there we'd found our third day at Oaks and it would serve us well today.

We had to push aside a statue of an angel sitting in the garden to reveal the tunnel but it took no time at all to topple it over. I went in first, bolting through the passageway with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times before. Max was right behind me. The tunnel was narrow and so it was harder for him to get through with his large, muscular body. I was tinier with nimble limbs made for tight spaces.

"Four years here and I still haven't gotten used to small enclosed spaces," Max grumbled from behind me as we pushed on.

A spider's web collided with my face and I brushed it away absentmindedly. "Don't tell me that you're still claustrophobic, Maxwell."

"Fine," he said. "I won't tell you."

The tunnel let out to a dark corridor hidden behind the statue of Jonathon Oak, the founder of our school. Everything was dark and, when I tried flicking the lights nearby, nothing happened. The power had been cut and the back-up generators tampered with. If they hadn't been, they would have kicked in by now.

Still, even in the darkness, I was greeted by the familiarity of warm wood-panelled walls and thick maroon carpeting over the occasional creaky floor plank. The walls were adorned with hand-painted portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses as well as the sprawling landscapes of England. Interspaced throughout the mansion were busts of important European contributors of the past. People from the World Wars and the Royal family were represented throughout the building.

But, what people didn't know was that hidden behind each and every painting was a hoard of weaponry ranging from guns to explosives to knives and more. That underneath every bust was a pile of technology for us to use, including communications units, much the like the ones I, and the rest of my classmates from our field exam, still wore.

"Come on," I murmured to Max. I climbed out of the tunnel and moved with determined strides over to the painting of Eleanora Woodson, the third headmistress of the school. I felt along the golden edge of the frame until my finger fell into a little divot. I pressed down on the button inside and the canvas shot up, disappearing into the wall. In its place, was a dark little cubby.

I reached inside and came up with a handgun in a holster. I fastened the holster around my waist, making sure it was nice and secure, before adding a second to my ankle. I pulled out a few rounds of ammunition. I threw them into my pockets as Max armed himself up. He retrieved a few micro-bombs, little circular bombs well-equipped enough to handle a C-4 charge. They'd been designed by Tasha in our sophomore year, though not after much trial and error, which included having many, many, bombs set off in our tiny little dorm room.

My hair had been singed for months.

Needless to say, the additional fire extinguisher we bought for our room was definitely necessary.

I glanced at Max as he grabbed a gun. "You ready?"

He brushed a hand through his sandy-blond hair and adjusted the holster at his hip. He pulled the glock free and held it firmly in his hands. His eyes met mine, resolved and dangerous. He didn't say anything. Years of working together on field exercises had prepared us for this moment. We didn't need to speak. We had all of our silent cues down and right now, he was telling me that he was ready to go.

"Okay, then. Let's do this. You got my back?"

Now, the ghost of a smile lit his eyes. "Always."

I pulled my own gun free of its holster. I kept the weapon angled towards the ground, my finger resting on the trigger, ready to go at a moment's notice. I began walking forward, fully aware of Max's steady presence by my side. While Lia was, without a doubt, my best friend, Max and I just worked together. We both moved the same way and balanced each other out perfectly when it came to field work.

It was the reason why, when we divided up, Max and I almost always ended up together. Though most people assumed he would team up with Lia because they were dating each other, the pair hardly ever worked together. While they were excellent in their personal lives, they just didn't have the same connection when it came to working ops. Besides, the two both held the same worry that, if it came down to it, they would protect each other instead of completing the mission which, in our field of work, wasn't generally the best course of action. Max and I both trusted each other to do our part and to get the job done, even if one didn't include the other.

We eased our way towards the first bend in the corridor. I strayed towards the wall, standing immobile as Max came to a rest beside me. He nodded at me and I slowly turned, inching around the corner. I looked at the scene in the hallway in front of me and then turned back around to face Max.

"Clear."

"Let's keep moving, then."

We did. I felt the air growing increasingly thicker and warmer as we maneuvered our way deeper into the West Wing. We still hadn't come across the blaze, which I hoped was because the security doors, that helped to neutralize threats to the school and the students, had fallen before the power had been cut. As we kept walking on, voices sounded from up ahead. Max gestured for me to stop moving and so I did, coming to a full rest on the other side of the wall.

"Did you find her?"

"She's not here. They gave us the wrong information. Must have been out on that bloody exam."

The voices were both very clearly male. Max glanced down at me, brows furrowed. While we didn't know who these people were or who they were after, if we had any minuscule doubts about this being part of our exam or an accident then we were most assuredly wrong. These men were here to find someone.

One of us.

"I saw a couple of kids out on the lawn before we infiltrated," the first voice said. "Looked to be about the right age. Maybe she's with them."

"Give me your walkie." Silence for a moment. Then, "We've got reason to believe she's just entered the premises. Fan out. Find her."

Revulsion and a knot of iron resolve wound itself in my stomach. Their few words had given us a bit of a lead as to who they could potentially be talking about. We knew they were after a senior student. Female. Likely someone with familial connections because why would they be interested in someone who had never stepped foot into this world before?

Those three points shortened list of students considerably. But I wanted to wait. To listen and hear more. But we didn't have time for that. Max nodded down at me.

The two of us shot around the corner. Max lunged, fist flying as he maneuvered his way toward the larger of the two men. The smaller one, who was still probably a good two or three inches taller than I was, turned but was too late. My fist connected with the side of his jaw, sending him reeling. Before he got a chance to recover, I sent another blow, this time hitting him upside the head with the butt of my gun. The man fell, unconscious to the floor.

Bang!

I started with fear at the sound of the gunshot and turned to see Max standing with a look of shock on his face. He reeled backwards and my eyes immediately began searching for a bullet wound, a bright spot of red, torn fabric, anything, really, to indicate that he'd just gotten shot, but there was nothing.

The other man fell backwards to the ground, his unseeing eyes turned towards the ceiling. There was a pistol clenched in his grasp. His still finger was on the trigger.

"I didn't mean to," Max murmured. "It—it just..."

This was the real world. Not some field exercise. And Max had just killed a person for the very first time.

I walked towards him, placed a hand on his arm. There would be time for assurances later, time to let him know that he hadn't had a choice, that it had been a life or death situation, but for now we had to go. "Come on. We have to keep moving. Someone probably heard that."

His eyes flickered to mine and, while he still appeared rattled, he nodded. "Yes. We should go. What about him?" He jerked his chin towards the man I'd knocked out.

I glanced around. We were about twenty feet away from one of the chemistry classrooms. I nodded. "We'll put him in there. I hit him pretty hard. He should be out for a few hours yet. But we should block the door to be safe."

Max nodded and bent down. He picked the man up, half-dragging him across the floor towards the classroom. He all but threw the man inside and then we grabbed a few desks to pile against the door so that, in the event that the man did wake, he would be unable to get beyond the door of the classroom.

Our task finished, we set off again, leaving the unconscious man and his dead comrade behind. I could see that Max was still shaken, but he was good operative and he knew that right now, we had bigger things to worry about. Besides, it wasn't as if we didn't know how to kill people. We'd all learned how to take lives very early on. But there was a major difference between knowing how to kill a person and actually taking a life.

I would know.

The school felt different to me, almost foreign, as we snuck through its dark halls. While there was no smoke present from the fire that was blazing its way through the west wing that Max and I were currently walking through, I could feel the heat of the blaze. It seeped through the old building and hit us hard. It was like walking through a sauna covered from head to toe in thick gear.

Finally, we came to a stop in front of a large fireproof metal door. When there was a threat in a distinct area of the school, the walls deployed from the ceiling until they crashed against the ground. The aim was to keep the area contained and prevent the threat from damaging the rest of the school. I was just glad that this safety measure had fallen before the rest of the power went out.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the lights flickered back on. Internally, I praised Tasha and Henri, knowing that they'd been the reason for this new development. As Max fell into step beside me, the communications unit I'd been wearing in the field exam crackled to life in my ear.

"Mel?"

I almost sagged in relief and grinned over at Max. "Tasha. Thank god. Where are you?"

"Henri and I are in sublevel 1. We've got our eyes on everything."

"What's going on out there, Tasha?"

"Nearly everyone has been evacuated out of the tunnels. Lia and Jason are on their way to you and Max. They've just reached the disguise classrooms."

"Okay. The teachers?"

I could hear the sounds of Tasha's fingers tapping rapidly against the keys of a computer. "Most of them are just getting back from the exam. Henri and I found Professor Monroe passed out in the hallway beside the elevators leading down to the sublevels. He's here with us. The rest are arming themselves and getting ready to come into the school."

"Good to know. You have any idea who set this thing?"

"Not a clue," she answered immediately. "Henri's got the security tapes running playback while I run interference."

"Can you turn on the sprinklers in the west wing where the fire is secluded? Max and I need to get in there and poke around."

A few strokes on the keyboard. "Done," she said. "I unlocked it for you too. As soon as the fire's out, the door will open."

"You're the best, Tash. Let me know if any of our friends who set this thing are still here, all right? Max and I already took out a couple, but I'm sure there are more. I need you to be my eyes and ears out there where I can't see anything."

"You got it, Mel. Lia is a minute away from your current position."

True to her word, Lia and Jason appeared around the corner only a minute later. Her face broke into a relieved mask, though it was quickly hidden behind her stoic expression, and Jason just nodded at us.

Lia grabbed Max's hand the moment he was within reach. "What'd you guys find?"

While it was me she looked to, it was Max who answered, "Nothing, yet. We found two infiltrators but nothing else."

"Where are they?" Jason asked.

I jerked my chin towards the direction we'd come from. "That way. One dead. One incapacitated."

Just then, the heavy metal door began to slide upwards, receding into the ceiling from where it had been originally deployed. I started forward, the others following behind me silently, as we walked into the charred part of the west wing. The red tapestries that had hung on the windows were burned to a singe and the walls were blackened with scorch marks. Several historic paintings were hardly recognizable. The classrooms, which were located only on the left side of the hallway, seemed unharmed as they'd been blocked by their own set of fireproof doors which were still down. The floor was littered with small puddles from the sprinkler system.

"Careful," Tasha said in my ear. "Watch your step. I don't have any camera access in there. They were burned too badly for me to access them."

The four of us picked our way through the rubble of our school. We went slowly, looking for any indication of who could have set the blaze. What we found though, was a thousand times worse than what I predicted.

"Bloody hell," Lia cursed.

"Shite," Jason added.

I didn't say anything, just walked over to the large hole that had been blown through the right side of our school. There was a gaping wound in the stone, providing a clear view to the starry night outside. It wasn't just a fire that had been set off. It had been a bomb. And it had gone off directly underneath the residences and right above the headmistress's office.

"Tasha, was anybody