Forever Until Tomorrow (War Eternal Book 5) by M. R. Forbes

she would figure it out. She had to.  
    Her eyes were closed, and she was trying to slow down the speed of her nightmare when she heard a soft click. The door to her room opening.  
    She didn't know what time it was. Late. A nurse, most likely. She was sure they thought she was sleeping.
    She didn't open her eyes. Let the staff do what they needed to do. If it was time for more meds, so be it.
    Then again, she didn't feel much pain. She remembered the last time the nurse had come in. It didn't seem like it had been that long ago.
    She listened to the motion beside her. The nurse would always hit the screen and check her vitals and levels before she did anything. She waited for the brightness to seep through her eyelids.  
    It never came.  
    She could hear someone moving the IV tubing that ran to her wrist. She could feel it pulling lightly. She breathed in, smelling a stronger, more musky odor. A man. She raised her lids slowly, glancing over to her left.
    Doctor Villanueva was hovering over her, IV in one hand, a syringe in the other.
    "What is that?" she said.
    The doctor jumped back, startled.  
    "Uh. Major. I. Ah."  
    He was stumbling over his words. Nervous. Katherine didn't like it.
    "I said, what is that?"
    She caught the motion from the doorway out of the corner of her eye. Doctor Villanueva wasn't alone. Two men in black were coming at her.  
    "I'm sorry, Major," Villanueva said. "You have to die. You'll ruin everything."
    She wasn't restrained. She pulled her wrist hard, yanking the IV, the tube pulling the rack of machines behind the doctor. He was distracted by them for a moment, just long enough for her to wrench the IV free of her wrist, ignoring the blooming pain and blood sprouting from the area as she rolled off the other side of the bed.
    One of the men had reached her, and he caught her on the way down, grabbing her and getting his arms around her waist, lifting her easily. She kicked back, hitting him in the groin, bringing her elbow back and slamming him in the side of the head. His grip loosened, and she wiggled out of it.
    Her gut burned, her body barely healed. She quickly scanned the room for anything she could use. There was nothing obvious, so she threw herself at her attacker, knocking aside a clumsy block and bashing him hard in the throat. He coughed and put his hand to his neck, while she skirted around him, seeking the door.
    The other man reached for her, getting his hand on her shoulder. She pulled back from him, letting him tear the hospital gown away, using his momentary confusion to drive a knee into his stomach and knock the air out. A hard punch to the side of his face rocked him aside, and then she was through the door and into the hallway.
    The first thing she saw was the nurse, dead against the side of the wall; her neck tilted way too far to the left. She felt the panic mix with her adrenaline. Michael had said he was just down the hall. To the left or the right? She didn't know, and would have to guess. She went right, sprinting down the corridor as the thugs regrouped behind her. There was no time.
    She reached the first door, pushing it open. Empty. She ran to the next. Empty. When she reached the third, a loud report sounded, and a bullet hit the wall beside her. She pushed the pad to open the door, falling into the room. She got up in a hurry, pushing the door closed and searching for something to jam it.  
    "Kathy?" Michael said behind her. "What's happening? Why are you naked?"
    Damn it. She had been trying to reach him before they did. She hadn't intended to get cornered in the room with him.  
    "I need to jam the door," she said.  
    "It's motorized," Michael replied. "You can't jam it."
    She looked back at him. He was sitting up on the bed, wearing a pair of AR glasses and gloves and doing his nerd thing.  
    "We have ten seconds to disable that door, or we're both going to die."
    Michael's face paled. Then his hands started moving.
    "What are you doing? Didn't you