He moved alone, using the chaos of the main battle to slip toward the north side of the compound. The war room was on the second floor.
Vaughn knew the layout, had studied blueprints purchased from a bribed city official.
He entered through a side door and moved quietly upstairs. The hallway was empty.
Everyone was either fighting at the front or hunkered down in the war room.
Vaughn approached the door, heard voices inside, female, male. The sound of someone organizing medical supplies.
He checked his weapon. A suppressed sidearm.
His hand reached for the for the door handle.
A voice behind him. "Hey."
Vaughn spun, weapon coming up. Finn Mercer stood at the end of the hallway.
He'd left the war room through a back exit. Something in his gut had told him to check the hallways.
The same survival instinct that had kept him alive for 13 months.
He had no gun, no knife, no training, but he had a fire extinguisher he grabbed from the wall bracket. Vaughn raised his weapon without hesitation.
Finn discharged the fire extinguisher, filling the narrow hallway with a white cloud that disrupted Vaughn's aim. The shot struck the wall instead.
He cursed, trying to clear his vision.
Finn charged through the foam like a linebacker. He swung the heavy steel fire extinguisher with both hands.
Connected with Vaughn's gun arm. The weapon clattered to the floor, but Vaughn was a professional, trained in hand-to-hand combat by the best militaries in the world.
He recovered instantly, slammed a fist into Finn's ribs. The broken ribs, the ones still healing.
Finn gasped, the pain blinding. His legs buckled.
Vaughn grabbed him by the throat, lifted him off the ground, and slammed him against the wall. "You've been a problem since day one."
Vaughn produced a backup weapon and threatened Finn at close range.
"Should have stayed invisible, kid."
"Let him go."
Magnus Blackwell stood at the top of the stairs. His shotgun was gone.
He'd emptied it in the courtyard, but he had a pistol in his hand.
Vaughn kept the gun against Finn's head. Use the boy as a shield.
"Drop it, Blackwell, or the kid dies."
Magnus didn't drop the weapon. Didn't lower it.
His winter storm gaze locked onto Vaughn's face.
"Your fight's with me, Vaughn, not with him."
"The boy ruined everything. Your wife should be dead."
"My client should have those documents. Instead, I've got a dozen men dead and a mission that's completely ruined."
"All because this homeless piece of decided to play hero."
Vaughn's finger tightened on the trigger. A gunshot cracked through the hallway.