by Diane Castle
“What was that guy doing in Fitz’s office?”
“After the dude killed Lewis, he came to kill Fitz, too. Fitz had no choice.”
So that was going to be the party line. Self defense.
I listened as the voices and footsteps faded.
“Okay,” Cameron said. “You’re clear. Step out the door and keep going right.”
I did. “How far away is Nash?”
Cameron cleared his throat. “Um, far.”
“How far is far?”
“Up on the sixth floor at the other end of corporate. It’s not too late to turn around and get out of there.”
“Nothing doing,” I said. “I’m already here. So far, so good. Just keep helping me, okay?”
“Okay,” Cameron said resignedly. “Just so you know, Miles is in the other room crying and promising Lucy he’ll take care of her when you’re gone. He thinks you’re never going to make it out of there.”
“We’ll just have to prove him wrong.”
I fast-walked down the hall. “Where to next?” I asked.
“When this hallway dead-ends, take a left.”
I stopped at the corner and peeked around it. Seeing no one, and reassured that Cameron was doing his job properly, I rounded the corner and hurried down the corridor.
Several office doors were open. I took off my shoes and stopped at each one, peeking around the corner to make sure no one was looking before I crept past. Luckily, most of the employees inside had their desks turned towards the outside windows and not towards the hallway doors. I couldn’t say I blamed them. I’d rather face the sunshine than an empty, beige hallway any day.
Suddenly, three successive chimes rang out. It sounded like some kind of alarm.
“What’s that?” I whispered into the phone.
Cameron cleared his throat again. “Well,” he said. “I may have engineered a small pressure drop in the catalytic converter. That’s the alarm sounding for non-essential personnel to clear out. Most everyone is already down in the control room, though. Why do you think the hallways are so empty right now?”
Oh, geez. I had been so focused on getting inside that it didn’t even occur to me that the halls might be uncharacteristically clear. A pressure decrease sounded better to me than a pressure increase, anyway, but what did I know?
“Is that dangerous?” I asked.
“Yeah, kind of,” Cameron said. “But I think I’ve got the pressure under control. I won’t let it get too low.”
“What happens if it gets too low?” I asked.
“The flow reverses and the whole refinery gets enveloped in a big, yellow, oily, toxic cloud. If you haven’t got protective gear on, you’re kind of screwed.”
“Okay,” I said. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too.” Cameron sighed. “Okay, fifty yards down the hall to your right is the supply closet. Duck in there and see if you can find a jumpsuit that fits.”
I continued down the hall, stopping at open doors doing the “peek and go” routine until I got to the supply closet.
When I opened the door, the light came on automatically. I slipped in and shut the door softly behind me.
“Okay, I’m in the closet,” I said.
“I know, I see you. The loop is running. Take your time. Nash is still on ice. Find a jumpsuit that fits.”
I saw a bunch of boxes on the shelves labeled “DuPont Tyvek QC Coveralls.”
I put down the phone, went to one that was labeled “small,” opened the box, and pulled one out. It was bright school bus yellow and made out of a coated fabric. The suit included built-in rubber-soled boots, long sleeves with elastic wrist closures, a hood, and a zip-up front. I unzipped the suit, scrapped my high heels, and stepped in.
After zipping it up and tightening the hood around my face, I also grabbed a pair of gloves for good measure and put them on. I topped off the whole outfit with a paper mask, similar to what you’d see doctors wearing in an operating room, and then covered my eyes with safety glasses. They weren’t dark glasses, but I felt like they added an extra measure of protection. Besides, all the workers in the dock had them on. I wouldn’t want to stand out by not having glasses on, too.
I picked the phone back up. “Cameron?” I whispered.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’ll have to keep a close eye on the cameras. It’ll be easy for you to get lost in the crowd now.”
“Great,” I said. “That doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence.” Especially since the catalytic converter alarm continued to chime.
“Did you have a lot going in?” Cameron said.
I chose not to answer. “Where to now?”
“Go out the door and continue right. Take the second left and continue down to the dead end. Go left from there and look for the stairway at the end of the hall.”
“What about the elevator?” I asked.
“Better not risk it. You look good, but you never know.”
I walked quickly down the hall and found the staircase, the ding, ding, ding of the alarm punctuating my every step.
“Good, Cameron said. “Sixth floor.”
I groaned, contemplating a six-story stair climb after my long run and bicycle ride. As I climbed the stairs, I felt my calves burn. I was huffing and puffing by the time I got to the sixth floor, sweating up a storm inside my coated fabric suit.
The thought of getting to Nash kept me going, even though I still wasn’t sure what I’d do when we got there.
“Okay,” Cameron said. “When you go out the door, hang a right. Walk about thirty yards down and take your second left. If anyone sees you, just say hello and keep walking. Pray they don’t notice your lack of ID. Nash is in the room at the very end of the hall on the left. There’s a guy standing outside the room. When you get there, hand him the phone. Tell him Fitz wants to talk to him. I’ll do my best Fitz impression.”
I did what Cameron said, hanging a right, walking down and taking the second left into a very long hallway. I could see a guy in a security uniform standing in front of a door at the other end, shifting nervously from one foot to the other as he stared up at the alarm chime speaker box mounted to the ceiling.
I started talking into the phone loudly, to make sure the guard could hear me. I wasn’t talking to Cameron, but to an imaginary Fitz. “Yeah, I know about the catalytic converter. I heard the alarm. Well, what do you want me to tell him? What about the guy? If you leave him in there and the thing blows. . . Okay, fine, I’ll get him out of there.”
As soon as I’d started talking, the security guard’s attention snapped onto me. I looked him in the eye as I walked towards him.
When I got to him, I held out the phone. “Fitz wants to talk to you,” I said.
I could hear the faint echo of Cameron’s voice as he did his Fitz impression.
“Get Nash out of there and bring him down to my office,” Cameron said. “Then get outside with everyone else. I’ll handle Nash.”
“Why didn’t you call me on the com frequency?” the guard asked suspiciously.
“That’s none of your business!” Cameron snapped. “When I give you an order, I expect you to move! Do you understand me?”
“Yes sir,” the guy said, handing me back my phone and unlocking the door.
Cool. I didn’t even have to use my credit cards. I snapped the phone temporarily shut. I’d have to call Cameron back once we figured out a way to get rid of the guard.
Nash was sitting at a bare table in a wooden chair, his hands folded in front of him on the table’s surface.
His guard uncuffed him. “Up,” he told Nash. “The boss wants you.”
Nash got up from the table. He didn’t recognize me in all my safety gear. He limped toward the door.
The security guard cuffed his hands in front of him and took him by the arm, leading him forward.
Nash limped along without saying a word, his eyes scanning for any opportunity to get loose.
I purposely walked a
bit slower and fell a few steps behind them. I was hoping to make a move before we got to the other end of the empty hallway.
I halfway unzipped my chemical suit and reached around to the small of my back, where my gun was safely tucked away. I pulled it out and softly crept forward.
Both hands on the barrel of the gun, I raised it over my head and brought it down on the security guard’s skull. It hit with a crack.
Unfortunately, instead of taking him totally down, it just kind of stunned him a little.
That was all the time Nash needed. Nash lassoed the guy’s neck with his arms and pulled backwards, using the handcuff chains to place pressure on his windpipe.
The guard lashed out, knocking Nash back up against the wall. I pointed my gun at the guard. His eyes went wide with a deer in the headlights look, and he stopped struggling. Finally, unable to breathe, the guy passed out.
I lowered my gun and pulled the paper mask down around my neck. “It’s me,” I said.
Nash’s jaw dropped. “Wow. You are even crazier than I gave you credit for.”
“What?” I asked. “You’re not happy to see me?”
“Oh, I’m happy to see you, all right.” He pulled the guard’s keychain off his belt and unlocked his cuffs before enveloping me in a giant hug.
The effect on me wasn’t quite the same as it would have been if I hadn’t been encased in a coated chemical suit, but it felt good to hold him, nevertheless.
“How did you get here?” Nash asked, disarming the guard and taking his gun for himself.
I quickly told him about the marathon to Miles’ car and Cameron’s hacking ingenuity. “Everybody’s either in the control room or outside,” I said. “They think the catalytic converter is about to blow.”
“Is it?”
“I don’t know. Cameron says he has it under control,” I said.
My cell phone buzzed. I picked it up. I could hear Lucy barking in the background and the sound of Miles panicking.
“Somebody’s coming,” Cameron said. “We have to get out of here.”
My stomach dropped down to somewhere around my ankles. “What do we do? What do we do?”
“I’m taking down the entire video surveillance system so nobody else can track you,” Cameron said. “Get Nash back to the supply closet and get a suit on him. Then walk out of there.”
“The supply closet is all the way on the other side of the building! I don’t remember how to even get back there!”
“Do your best. I’ll call you when we’re clear.”
The line went dead.
I swore. “We lost Cameron. He took down video surveillance, but if we meet anyone in the hallways, we’re dead meat for sure. I have to get you into a suit so we can get out of here.”
“Don’t bother,” he said. “The limp will give me away anyway. Put your mask back on and take my arm, like you’re escorting me somewhere. It’s a good thing you’re tall. Nobody will be able to tell you’re a woman in there.”
“Where do we go?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Nash said impatiently. “Out! How’d you get in?”
“With the Cameron Gilbert GPS system,” I said.
“Okay, we’ll just have to figure it out.”
I took Nash’s arm, and he began limping along beside me.
“How’s your foot?” I asked.
“It hurts,” he said simply.
I tried to remember the combination of turns that brought me here. In reverse, that would be. . . what? Left, then right, then left? I couldn’t remember. All the hallways looked the same. Nothing on the walls, which were painted solid beige.
“I think maybe we better just follow the exit signs,” I said. “The problem is, we have no way of knowing which way is the right exit. We need to get back to the supply yard so we can get out under cover with access to a vehicle.”
“Okay, it’s trial and error then,” Nash said. “Let’s go.”
For the most part, the hallways were deserted. The chiming alarm continued to sound. I wondered what would happen to the catalytic converter now that Cameron wasn’t actively monitoring it. Did that mean we were about to have a real catastrophe on our hands?
We occasionally passed people who were fully suited up and wearing respirators. They were so consumed with managing the emergency they barely gave us a second look.
We were making progress. I started to even think we might have a hope of making it out.
I started hoping just a little too soon.
The alarm chimed again, and Dorian burst out of an office door and barreled down the hall toward us.
CHAPTER 37
In spite of his obvious hurry to get out of the building, he stopped short when he saw Nash and me.
I kept walking, as though to pass him, and tried not to meet his gaze.
Dorian almost kept going, but something in my demeanor caused him to do a double-take, and I knew he’d recognized me.
Dorian whipped out his cell phone and started dialing.
Nash and I drew our guns on him.
“Put the phone down,” I commanded.
He did. I didn’t need to ask him what he was doing here. Of course he’d be on site during a public relations emergency with the client of his career.
“Chloe, are you out of your mind?”
“According to Nash, yes.”
“This is assault!” Dorian said. “I’ll have your hide for this!”
“Sure,” I said. “My boss just got killed, your client is out to get me, and the refinery is about to blow. I’m really scared right now that you might sue me.”
Dorian folded his arms and regarded me evenly. “What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
“Probably not,” I said. “But Nash might.”
Dorian glanced at Nash in alarm.
Nash shrugged. “Don’t make me,” he said.
I held out my hand. “Give me your phone,” I told Dorian.
“And do it slowly,” Nash added.
Dorian grasped his phone with two fingers and gingerly handed it over. I pocketed it.
“Now,” I said, “turn around and walk that way.” I jerked my head in the opposite direction from which he had come.
Dorian put his hands in the air, turned around, and started walking down the hall.
“No,” Nash said. “Hands down. Make it look natural.”
Dorian dropped his hands. “Just so you know, you’re going the wrong way.”
“How do you know?” I asked. “You don’t even know where we’re taking you.”
Dorian sighed impatiently. “You want out, right? This way is just going to take you back to the other side of corporate.”
“And I should believe you, why?” I asked.
“Because I loved you, once,” Dorian said.
Once. Once upon a time. Once was the key word.
Even though I had known it was over with Dorian long ago, the way Dorian had intoned the word “once” had a ring of finality to it that had been lacking in all my previous communications with him this week. We had once shared so much, but no longer. And now I knew for certain that his pretended feelings for me had been nothing more than manipulation and legal games.
I didn’t know whether it was the direness of the situation or the knowledge that the Miller case was most likely finished for lack of a client that had prompted him to drop the “I still love you” act, but I didn’t really care. Even though it hurt my ego a little to hear it, I also felt a large measure of relief. At least now, I knew exactly what I was dealing with.
“Once has nothing to do with now,” I said.
“And you think I’m holding a grudge just because you left me handcuffed to Schaeffer’s desk overnight?”
“Noooooo,” I said, in a way that clearly meant ‘yes.’
Dorian reached the end of the hallway and stopped. “Which way?” he asked. “Right is out. Left is deeper in.”
“Left,” I said.
The refinery alarm chimed again
.
Dorian sighed. “Look. You don’t get it. I want out of here just as bad as you two. This place is about to blow, and unlike you, I’m not wearing any protective gear.”
I had to admit, his argument made sense. I had no reason not to believe it.
I looked at Nash. He shrugged.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “Go right. No. Actually, take me to the storage tank area.”
“That’s to the right,” Dorian said, and began walking that way.
Nash leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Are you sure about this?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“It seems reasonable for him to also want to get out. The less time we spend in the hallways, the less likely we are to get caught. But you know him better than I do.”
“The question is, what are we going to do with him once we find the exit? We can’t just march him through the yard at gunpoint.”
I eyed Dorian nervously. He appeared to be nonchalantly strolling down the hall, but I knew he was straining to hear our every word.
“Did you get all that gear in a supply closet?” Nash asked.
I nodded.
“Were there respirators in there?”
I nodded again.
“If we can get him into a supply closet and stick a desk chair under the doorknob on the outside, that might give us enough time to get rid of him and get away. And if he can’t get out, he’ll have access to protective gear, which means he should be okay. It’s only a gas cloud we’re worried about, right? No fire or anything?”
“Um, I think so?” I took a deep breath. Surely Dorian would be okay. We were well into the corporate section of the building now. If there were a gas cloud, it wouldn’t be like Dorian would be stuck at ground zero. “We don’t really have a choice. I say that’s the plan.”
Dorian came to another fork in the hallway and stopped again. “Which way now?”
“What’s the fastest way back to the storage tank area?” I asked.
“Straight,” Dorian said.
I felt like I had no choice but to believe him, so I did. “Okay, go.” I waved my gun, motioning for him to move forward.