Salvar heard a gunshot crack through the mortuary and spun around just in time to see one of the hooded men blast the metal lock apart and shove through the door. Patrick didn't need to be told twice. He wheeled himself backward so fast he nearly tipped the chair over, retreating deeper into the shadows while the men poured through the opening.
Salvar caught the eye of the man still pinned beneath him and gave him a single, meaningful look. They stood up together. Whatever happened next was chaos. Four against three in the dim light of the mortuary, batons and tasers and fists, and when the dust settled, the three hooded men were on the ground and the four of them were running, Salvar and Silas and the two who had been their enemies ten minutes ago, pushing Patrick's wheelchair between them.
