“I’m familiar with the theory. Jo, look for security protocol seven and activate it. Then see what you can do to lock admin access. Can you do that?”
“Maybe? Barely? I don’t know.” Jo’s voice was frantic and he could hear keystrokes in the back.
“Jo?” Torres parroted.
“I can do that,” Isaac said out of nowhere.
“You’ve got to be shitting me. I’m not trusting you,” Jo said.
“Your assistant?” Torres asked.
Elias held up his hand to stall Torres from speaking.
“Jo, hold a gun on him. If you don’t like what he’s doing, shoot him. Or let the special division shoot him. They don’t look friendly.” Elias focused on Torres and blocked out the back and forth between Jo and Isaac. “I’ve got two people with me. They’re going to get us a way out of here. But I need more from you. What’s the special division for?”
“I don’t know.” Torres threw up his hands. “I’ve asked before. They aren’t on any sales sheet I’ve ever seen, and I’m the top sales person. They won’t tell me anything, except it’s none of my business. But...”
“But?”
Torres grimaced and glanced around. “Something’s just not right here.”
“What do you mean, not right?”
Torres paced a few feet away, then spun, hand covering his mouth. “I’ve been here for three years. Most people don’t last more than two here, so I’m unusual outside of the executives. Over the last three years, eight of my biggest clients have suddenly gone belly up.”
“Dead?”
“No, they go bankrupt or lose a ton of money and can’t afford us anymore. None of it makes sense. A few weeks before each account was closed, someone from the executive level will come and ask for their file, saying they want to show them appreciation or whatever. They don’t do this for everyone.”
“You think—what? They’re using all this information you have on these people to protect them as blackmail?” The pieces were falling into place in Elias’s head.
Torres shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Security protocol seven activated,” Jo cheered. The sound was cut short. “Shit. Elias, there are three headed your way. They aren’t looking at anything. I think... I think they know where you are.”
“Leave the office, go two doors down on your left and hide in there,” Isaac ordered.
“Key?” Elias held out his hand.
Torres only hesitated a half second before thrusting it into Elias’s hand.
Elias cracked open the office door and peered out on the now empty hall. He reached back and grabbed a handful of Torres’ jacket, hauling the younger man after him.
Harsh voices drifted to them, coming closer.
They weren’t speaking English. That backed up what Isaac had said about them being connected to the Russian side of things.
Elias swiped the keycard over the door two down and ducked into the dark room. It wasn’t even an office, just a closet. He shoved the door shut behind Torres and moved to the side, drawing his weapon in the pitch darkness of the closet.
“What are we doing? What’s happening?” Torres whispered.
“I’ll fill you in when we get out. Quiet,” Elias whispered.
The voices came closer.
Another electric beep and a door banged open.
“Nyet,” one voice said.
That was Russian. One of the simplest words.
No.
They knew Elias, at least, wasn’t there. They might not even know Torres had come to Elias’s rescue.
He closed his eyes, focusing on all the sounds coming to him. The footsteps. The garbled words. The doors. He could hear voices through the walls from other offices. Isaac and Jo were oddly quiet.
“They’re moving away from you now, checking offices,” Isaac said.
“Torres, why did you want me to be with Aegis Group?” Elias asked.
“Because, they always seem to swoop in and save the day,” Torres whispered. “I hear stories. Crazy stories from clients. I figure, if things are going south, I want to be where you are.”
“Hall is clear. Keep going left, there’s a stairwell on your left. Go. Now,” Isaac barked.
“Listen to him,” Jo said.
Elias nodded, as if they could see him. “Torres? Stay close behind me.”
“You bet.” Torres’ voice actually wavered.
“You have any combat training? Any active shooter drills?”
“Yeah, active shooter drills.”
“Okay, so you know to keep your head down, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go first, but I want you ahead of me. We know they’re behind us. I’m wearing body armor. You aren’t.”
“Elias...” Jo whispered.
He shut out her voice, and the concern laced through it.
Elias gripped the door and turned the handle just enough to peer out.
The place was a ghost town.
“Let’s move,” he whispered and stepped out.
Torres was with him every step, squeezing out and bending low. Elias kept his left hand on the guy’s shoulder while watching their six.
“There are two circling back,” Isaac said.
“Move faster,” Jo urged.
Torres must have sensed the order, because he started jogging.
The sign for the stairs loomed ahead.
Elias turned, facing the way they’d come, gun still pointed at the ground.
Another beep and the stairwell door opened. He cringed at the loud, metal on metal sound of it, but nothing could be done.
Someone called out, and another man answered.
“Go,” Jo bellowed.
Elias dove through the open door and shouldered it closed.
“Great, now—” Jo’s words were cut off by a distant boom.
“Jo?” Elias lurched for the stairs. “Jo?”
“The door! Get the door,” Jo screamed.
Fuck. They’d been so focused on getting Elias and Torres to safety, they hadn’t been looking after themselves.
7.
Thursday. Eagle Tech, Seattle, Washington.
Jo threw her weight against the metal door. They couldn’t fire through it. Not metal this thick, so she was safe from that threat. But there would be nothing to hide behind if those men got in here.
This was all her fault.
At least Elias and Torres could get out. They knew the truth. She didn’t want to die, but at least she’d finally shown Elias how she felt. She could die knowing she’d reached for what she wanted, and that this case wouldn’t end with her. Elias would never allow that to happen.
“Fuck you, Jo. Fuck you and all of this,” Isaac wailed as he ran headlong into the door with her.
The door thunked shut, and the lock reengaged.
She blew out a breath and knew her relief would be short-lived.
There wasn’t another way out of here.
“Jo? Jo, talk to me?” Elias begged in her ear.
“Get your ass here or we are dead,” Isaac yelled, as if he needed to be louder to be heard by the comms.
“No,” Jo snapped. “Elias, get out of here. I’ve got a plan. We’re going to do that fake-out, remember? We’ve got this.”