“Do you know someone at the hotel?” Matt asked. “I’d like to know.”
The man still didn’t answer. He continued staring across the room. What would take him off guard?
“You’ll need me to enter the password to gain access to the computer,” Isabelle said. “I would think you’d want my cooperation.” She inhaled, searching the far reaches of her memory for verbiage she hoped would stall their demise.
He scoffed, “I doubt it.” Finally she’d found a topic she could exploit.
“Okay, suit yourself, but you should know I used the Blum-Micali algorithm.”
The operator raised one eyebrow. He stepped nearer. “The what?”
The closer he got, the better. “It’s a cryptographically secure number generator,” she said. “It can handle a quantum permanent compromise attack.” She geared up to recite lengthy math equations, but the operator held up a hand.
“Hold on.” He pressed his lips together and pulled out his phone. Good. He was distracted. It was now or never. She moved closer to Matt’s ear. “Stay still,” she whispered. She twisted her body as her hand slid across the countertop.
“She says she used an algorithm,” the man said into the phone.
Isabelle grabbed the first thing her fingers found and pulled. It was the soda gun. Not ideal, but she’d work with what she had. She gave the metal tube a sharp tug, and her thumb slid over the red button labeled Coke, one of ten buttons on the button plate. She aimed at his face. Brown liquid and bubbles shot over Matt’s shoulder and sprayed across the room.
“Are you kidding me?” The gunman growled as he held up the hand with the gun in front of his face.
She’d hoped for a more powerful distraction, but the soda sputtered to a trickle. Isabelle grabbed anything in arm’s reach and began throwing it at the man: the metal shaker hit the guy’s shoulder. As he lowered his arm, Matt dived into his torso, sending him back over a table.
“Run,” Matt yelled.
Isabelle watched Matt struggle to keep the man’s corded arms back lest he aim the gun at either of them. Matt punched the man, and the gun fell from the operator’s hand. Isabelle dashed toward it, but the guy was quick, shoving Matt back and flipping over onto the gun. Isabelle grabbed the nearest stool and hit the man’s head with it.
He lay flat on his stomach with the gun underneath him. “Go,” Matt shouted. It was too risky to try to wrestle the gun away, so this time she followed Matt’s lead. Except they couldn’t use the elevator since the operator had the key. Matt jumped over the body on the floor, grabbed her hand and pulled her around the corner to the door marked Stairs.
A gunshot sounded, and Matt shoved her head down as he slammed the door open with his elbow. The heat from the stairway overwhelmed her senses. The lack of air-conditioning meant it had to be over a hundred degrees between the cement walls.
Matt pulled on her wrist as another bullet pinged over her head. The man was coming.
They sprinted down the cement stairs. The oppressive air made her breath shallow. “Faster, faster,” Matt repeated.
Her ears strained, but she didn’t hear any footsteps after them. No more bullets zinged past.
“What were you thinking?” Matt didn’t slow his pace.
“Anything to keep him from killing us.”
“Funny. Seems to me you almost got us killed.”
“He was going to kill us no matter what, so I used OODA. Observe, Orient, Decide, Act. My dad taught me that.”
“Sure he didn’t say ‘You bring the crazy, and Matt will bring the muscle’? Because that’s what it felt like!”
She ignored him. She could’ve smarted back a number of comments, the bottom line being that they were still alive. If she didn’t focus on the many steps below, the light-headed feeling starting to build in the back of her neck would overtake her. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her cheek. Except for the sound of their panting and footsteps echoing off the stairs, there was nothing but silence. “Maybe he’s not coming after us.”
“Perhaps because he has an elevator and can block our exits,” Matt replied. “He can beat us.”
She hadn’t thought of that. She slowed her steps. What would they do? The floor numbers were marked in white paint. She snapped her fingers. “The party. Let’s go back to the party.”
“Where the guy who ordered to have you killed waits? Yeah, great idea.”
“We don’t know for sure if he was the one—” She wasn’t ready to give up hope that Struther could be the answer to her problems.
“Izzy, he obviously set us up!”
“Maybe.” It did seem like the most likely scenario. “Go to the party. There are loads of people still there, some talking, some waiting for the elevator. The gunman will think we’re going to the bottom, right? To escape? Going to the party is unexpected. Safety in numbers.”
Matt shook his head but didn’t argue. He just kept moving down the stairs. Instead of sweat running down his temple, she noticed a streak of blood.
She almost stumbled, but her hand grabbed the railing to stop her descent. “He hurt you.”
“Just a scratch.” Matt jolted to a stop at the next platform. “I think this is it.” He put his hand on the metal door. “Stay back. Let me see if our new friend is here.” The door opened, and the smell of the chicken dinner they’d just eaten wafted past her. A group of conference attendees who’d gathered in front of the elevator spun around, slack-jawed at their appearance.
Robert Struther, at the far right of the group, raised an eyebrow. “Having a good time, Miss Barrows?”
Matt darted forward. “Stay away from her!” His hands tightened into fists, and his spine straightened.
Darren Allen took a step closer but said nothing.
“Someone call the police,” Isabelle hollered, finally finding her voice again. She pointed a shaky finger at Struther. “Why would you try to kill me when I was willing to give you the research all along?”
Struther’s eyes widened. “Ki-kill you? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, please.” Matt took a step in front of Isabelle as if shielding her. “As if you don’t know. Is your business doing so badly that you can’t afford her? You have to steal instead?”
The crowd had grown utterly silent. “Did someone call the police?” Isabelle asked. One woman nodded, her phone pressed to her ear. “Tell them a gunman was in the building. He might’ve taken the elevator to the bottom. He’s either almost out of the building...” She glanced at the metal door. “Or on his way back here.”
The crowd reacted. Several let out gasps, some screamed, and then they dispersed throughout the room. It was probably the wrong thing to say. Only a couple of men remained near the elevator entrance, looking ready for a fight.
“Isabelle,” Struther said. “What are you talking about?”
She faltered. Was there a possibility he wasn’t behind it? “Let’s just say our meeting didn’t go as you intended. I’m still alive, and the research is safe.”
His eyes clouded with confusion. “The elevator operator said the restaurant was closed. He said no one was going up. I thought you’d already gone back to your hotel. I promise.” He held a hand up as if taking an oath. “I have witnesses.” His expression pleaded for someone to corroborate his story.
Darren Allen shrugged. “Why don’t you wait for the police to sort it out, Struther?” The way he said the last name indicated his great animosity for the man. Allen waved Isabelle toward the event room. “Let’s get you away from the elevator.” He lowered his voice. “I told you not to trust anyone.”
The next time the elevator pinged, it held two police officers. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got the Tower on lockdown until we can confirm you can leave safely.”
* * *
Matt c
ouldn’t calm his racing heart. His eyes connected with Struther’s as the officers interviewed him. One officer grabbed his radio pinned just below his collar. He spun around and found Isabelle. “We’ve found the gunman, outside waiting in the bushes.”
Isabelle stood so close to Matt that her left arm brushed against his side as she shivered. Her chin dipped as she focused on the floor, her breathing rapid. Matt put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m fine. It’s good you got him.” She nodded rapidly. He could feel a slight tremor in her bones. “Thank you.” She lifted her head. “What about the man at the hotel?”
The officer regarded Matt. “Your security is on the lookout, and we have officers doing a sweep. The front desk hasn’t seen anyone as of yet. We’ll have a car making rounds nearby tonight.” He tilted his head. “My guess is now that we’ve got this guy, the attempted hotel burglary was called off.”
Matt nodded. “Thank you.” He pulled her closer into his side in an attempt to stop her shivering.
The officers informed the rest of the attendees that it was safe to leave.
Matt eyed Struther, still unsure of the guy’s innocence, but if there was a chance he wasn’t guilty... Matt sighed and walked forward. Struther tensed and pulled his chin back.
“It appears,” Matt said slowly, “that I owe you an apology for how I spoke to you.”
Struther’s posture relaxed, but he crossed his arms across his chest. “I probably would’ve reacted the same way if someone held my girlfriend at gunpoint.”
Isabelle joined them. “Oh, we’re not—”
“Listen,” Struther interjected. “I know it’s not your fault, but I think it would be best if you partner with another company.”
Her eyes widened. “But you haven’t even heard what—”
“If your research is as valuable as it seems, then I’m sure you’ll find another investor. I’m the new VP. Our company is just now stabilizing. We can’t afford to become a target for...well, whoever is doing this. I’m sure you understand. I still look forward to your presentation.” He nodded at them and walked away.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Isabelle said.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Matt glanced at his watch. “I hope our ride is still here.”
“How’d you schedule a taxi already?”
“I prearranged something. I wanted transportation that could pull right up to the door since it’s after dark.”
The elevator dinged as if in response, and the crowd rushed into the metal box. Since they were the closest, Matt and Isabelle ended up pressed against the glass. He looked down at his feet and tried to ignore the feeling of his stomach trying to escape as they plummeted to the ground at an unreasonable speed. As it slowed to a stop, he looked up to find Isabelle beaming.
“The view of the city at night was beautiful. I needed that to help calm me. I wish you could’ve seen it.” She touched his arm gently. “It means so much to me that you came. If the shoe was on the other foot and I was the one scared of heights, I don’t think I could’ve done it.”
He just hoped she wasn’t ready to be rid of him, because there was no way he was letting Isabelle attend the conference tomorrow by herself. Only when she stepped through airport security on the way back home would he feel comfortable leaving her to fend for herself. Until tonight, there had been some part of him that still wanted to believe the acts of crime were coincidental. The gun and the attempt to get her laptop were on another level altogether.
Before the door had slid fully open, the attendees were rushing out, ignoring the operator’s friendly goodbye. Matt didn’t feel very friendly toward him, either. He could’ve been a little more specific that the restaurant was closed when they’d asked to go up the first time. “Did you know the other operator?” he asked now that they were the only ones left.
The guy shrugged. “No, but to be fair, I’m new here. I don’t know everyone yet. I heard what happened. I would’ve warned you if I’d known.”
Matt nodded. It made sense for the newbies to get stuck with the late-night private parties. It was what he would’ve done as manager. Seniority would give the other operators the cushier shifts.
“Thank you,” Isabelle said.
They walked out onto the brick courtyard. The wind carried the powerful sound of the waterfall fountains directly across from the Tower. The light beaming from behind them made some of the water glow light green.
“It’s hard to believe you can find so much beauty within the city.” Isabelle’s voice was as light and airy as the mist that reached their faces.
The air had cooled with the night, a welcome relief after the intense heat of the stairs. To the right of the massive fountains, a covered horse-drawn carriage waited. The carriage itself was draped in a few strands of white lights. The driver, dressed in a tuxedo, waved a few of the attendees away.
Matt grinned at Isabelle. “Our ride awaits. I’m glad he didn’t give up on us.”
She gasped. “That’s for us?”
“He used to work for me. I helped him get this gig. He told me if I ever wanted a free ride... Well, I’ve never taken him up on it before.” Mostly because he thought it’d feel awkward to be driven around town in a horse-drawn carriage all by himself by a guy he sometimes met for coffee.
It was a fully covered carriage except for the two small windows on either side. It had seemed like a safe enough idea before the gunman showed up. Now he wasn’t so sure, though the cops seemed to think the danger had passed. He supposed that had to be good enough for now. The Tower had locked the doors behind him, and Matt didn’t want to walk, exposed, to the parking lot and wait for a cab to arrive. Besides, the moment they got in the carriage, Bill would move them to the streets. There was safety in numbers.
“I can’t wait,” Isabelle exclaimed. She practically ran to the carriage entrance. She rose on her tiptoes to look at the driver. “I’m Isabelle,” she said. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
Bill tipped his hat to her. “Anything for Matt.”
Isabelle placed one foot in the carriage but looked over her shoulder at Matt. The affection written in her eyes took him off guard. He stepped closer to Bill. “We had a bit of a scare tonight. Any chance you drivers carry to keep from being robbed?”
Bill pointed to the cops leaving the scene. “I gathered something was going on.” He patted his pocket. “I don’t know about most drivers, but I’m trained and licensed. I’ll deliver you safely.”
Matt nodded, relieved. His chest tightened as he followed Isabelle inside the enclosed space. He’d thought they could sit across from each other, but instead there was only one small padded bench. It’d be impossible not to be in close proximity. They barely had sat down before the clip-clop of hooves started.
Isabelle kept her eyes on the views outside the window. “I can’t imagine a better way to take in the sights.”
“Well, you really haven’t had a chance to see much,” Matt said. And sadly, until he was absolutely sure she was no longer in danger, he didn’t feel like she could. “I imagine, though, that Bill will take the scenic route to the hotel.”
Bill didn’t disappoint. They passed the numerous notable buildings on the way back, and Matt recited what history he knew. Otherwise, the sound of passing cars and horse hooves were all that filled the silence. The glow of the lights lit Isabelle’s face and the highlights of her hair. He’d never thought it possible for her to grow more beautiful.
She turned toward him. He moved his gaze past her and pointed at the river just beyond the bridge they were crossing.
“The San Antonio River used to be called Yanaguana, ‘place of restful waters.’”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh? I always like knowing what names mean.”
“Do you know your name means ‘God is my oath’?”
She nodde
d. “Or ‘devoted to God.’ It’s a good reminder to me when I forget my purpose.”
“Hard to believe you’d ever forget. You’ve always seemed driven, just like the other Isabel Barrows.”
Her eyes widened. “You know about her?”
SEVEN
Isabelle didn’t know what to say. How would he know what her name meant or the fact that a woman in history had the same name unless he’d looked her up on the internet at some point?
“First woman employed by the State Department, right?” Matt asked.
“Uh, yeah, among other things. First female ophthalmologist, eye surgeon, professor at a medical school... Let’s just say I’m glad my first name is spelled differently.”
“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re well on your way, Isabelle.”
The compliment took her so off guard that she turned back to the open window and the breeze. “I don’t know about that. After tonight, every investor will treat me like I’ve got the plague. And if I don’t find one, I’ll have let Hank down, and my livelihood will be at stake, as well.”
“Don’t give up. You have a new home that sounds like it’s worth fighting for.”
“It’s what I always wanted.”
“I know. So, what about Struther? I’m not so sure you should trust him.”
“Funny. That’s what Darren Allen said before we headed to the restaurant.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “That’s a little suspicious. Wasn’t it Struther and Allen we saw arguing outside the restaurant yesterday?”
She turned back to the window. They were passing the Alamo, lit up in all its glory. “Yes, but, Matt, I don’t want to think about it anymore. I can’t make sense of it, and I don’t have any evidence for the police. So I just want to be a tourist on a moonlit carriage ride and soak it all in.” She sighed. For all her talk, she couldn’t stop her mind from spinning. “Besides, I’m realizing that almost every attendee at the conference could find a way to profit from my research. I really can’t trust anyone.”
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