I followed the men’s suit-squared shoulders, and footsteps, a sound I’d learned in such a short time to come to dread, the sharp click of dress shoe heels on concrete. They were heading back in the direction of the office I had hidden in, rather than in the other direction, toward the medical bay. I wondered if Otto might be back down in medical. I experienced a spear of guilt at having cut him so badly.
I followed them down the corridor. We walked past the office where I’d found the phone, and I looked at the closed door longingly, wishing I could try to call my aunt again. But we kept going. Another, smaller corridor led off to the left, and we turned down it. It appeared to house only a single door at the end. I glanced back over my shoulder, toward the way we’d come. If we’d continued walking down that way, would we have come to an exit? Mentally, I pictured the layout of the building. Yes, I was sure it would lead onto the grounds at the back. My gut clenched with longing for my freedom, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I could try to run now, but I wouldn’t get anywhere. Both Stewart and Bryson had their weapons drawn in preparation for me trying something. They’d learned not to trust me now. Had Hollan heard about what Stewart had tried to do? If he had, he made no mention of it.
The door we’d stopped in front of was guarded by a code lock rather than a key. I watched as Hollan’s fingers flew over the buttons.
Six, eight, four, one, one.
The numbers flashed up in my personal space around my head, all in the same positions I’d always seen them. I imprinted their order to memory in case I ever needed it again. I didn’t know how the next few minutes were going to pan out, but I’d have remembered those numbers even without trying, anyway.
The keypad beeped, and the door clicked open. It was made of solid metal—thick and heavy. Hollan pulled it open fully to reveal the room behind.
My mouth dropped open. Like the door, this room was also lined in metal. I’d never seen the interior of a bank vault, but I imagined this was exactly how one would look.
We were standing in what appeared to be a giant safe.
The only difference was that this safe had furniture inside—a desk, a chair, and a computer. Small drawers with locks made up much of the walls, but I had no idea what was inside them. Did one of those little drawers contain the memory stick? I scoured the fronts of the drawers, as though something about one of them might be able to give up its secret, but they all looked exactly the same.
The walls were bulletproof, I realized. No one was getting in here without the code Hollan had just punched in. Isaac’s instincts when he’d said Hollan wouldn’t have just left the memory stick lying around were correct. He’d predicted we couldn’t just kill Hollan because he would have kept the stick protected by a code of his own, and he’d been right.
Only I had that code now.
I could kill Hollan the first moment I got the chance. I just needed to get my eyes on that memory stick.
Adrenaline soared through my veins. I glanced between Stewart and Bryson. They were both armed, and I guessed Hollan still was, too—I remembered the gun in the holster, which he’d flashed at me in the back of the car. If I could get Hollan alone, I could go for the gun. But Hollan was a paranoid man. He’d gone to get the two other men before letting me out of the cell for this exact reason. Yes, I might be an unarmed woman on her own, but he’d seen what I’d done to Otto’s face. He’d underestimated me, and he wouldn’t be making that same mistake twice.
My gaze darted around the small metal room. Maybe the flash drive wasn’t kept in one of those drawers. Perhaps that was a ruse. It could be in the desk, or was it somewhere else entirely—in a hidden panel in the wall, perhaps? After what I’d seen over the past week or so, nothing would surprise me at this stage. I stood, rooted to the spot, waiting for Hollan to make his next move and reveal the location to me. As soon as it was in my sights, I’d do whatever I could to kill the son of a bitch, even though I knew I was risking my own life as well.
Hollan took a couple of steps forward—
A blare of alarms sounded through the building.
Whaa-whaa-whaa-whaa ...
The men all froze then looked to each other.
My emotions were mixed. A part of me thought, shit, I almost had it, while the other part wondered what the noise was all about. Did I dare hope the guys had finally arrived?
Hollan looked back toward the doorway, a frown pulling down his wide forehead. “Looks like we’ve got company.”
He didn’t need to tell the other two men what to do. They both backed out, and Hollan stepped toward the door, too. My stomach twisted in a knot, trying to think of a way I’d be able to stay, or get Hollan to reveal the location of the memory stick first, but he moved forward, the bulk of him forcing me to step back, too.
“We should stay in here,” I blurted, shouting over the top of the alarms. “Show me the memory stick and I’ll give you the code. We don’t know what’s going to happen now. This might be our last chance.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “Why so keen?”
My cheeks burned. “Like I said, time might be running out.”
“Whoever is out there isn’t going to be getting in here. Even if they’ve brought a tank with them, they won’t be getting through the entrance.”
I thought to when I’d been outside, and how I’d considered there would be other entrances than the large one we’d entered via, which looked as though it was designed for vehicles. Could they get in one of the other doors? I didn’t even know who was out there yet. I was hoping for the guys, of course I was, but I felt sure Hollan had plenty of enemies. It could be someone I’d never come across before.
“Come on.” Hollan grabbed my arm and dragged me back out. “I’ll be interested to see who our visitors are.”
I looked longingly at the metal room as he pulled me from it then slammed the door shut again. The keypad beeped, though I barely heard it over the alarms. A light behind the pad flashed red to show it was armed. I knew the code to get in, however. Hollan had no idea how my mind worked with numbers. Maybe he’d thought having to remember the code for the memory stick was as much as my little female brain could handle. Yeah, I was thinking in sarcasm.
Even so, I was disappointed to have had the opportunity snatched from me at that moment. But if Isaac and the others were here, that would surely make up for it. Would Hollan take me back to the cell and lock me inside? But no, he kept hold of me and took me to the glass booth at the entrance, where security screens were lined up across the front. The metal roll-down door was right in front of us, and I stared at it in hope, praying they’d barge right through.
“What have we got?” Hollan asked the man in the glasses, who’d been manning the booth the whole time. I assumed he was also the one who’d sounded the alarms.
Nervously, the guy pushed his glasses higher up his nose. “We’ve got company. Five of them, I think. Looks like they’re trying to surround the building.”
I took the opportunity to sneak in a glance, and my heart lifted. It was them!
From several different angles, I could see the men sneaking toward the property. There was Kingsley—always hard to miss—and Alex. I spotted Lorcan, looking tough in his leather jacket and with a large gun held at his side. He had come, despite having been fighting an infection.
But something worried me. They all looked as though they were moving with military precision, sneaking up on what appeared to be a dilapidated building from the outside. I touched my fingers to the spot where the tracker was. It was getting sore now—like I had a deep spot under my skin—but compared to all the other aches and pains in my body, I had barely noticed it. It must be working, however. From the way they were moving, they knew I was in here. I’d never been so overjoyed to see a group of men in my life, but with my happiness also came fear. They weren’t showing any signs that they knew they were being watched, and I was terrified Hollan would have a way of picking them off one by one.
Two other men—the
same ones who’d been following in the second car when they’d taken me off the road—came running toward us. They had that definite timed footfall and stance of military men. “We have a breach in security, sir,” one of them called.
Hollan nodded. “Take the rear of the building. Make sure they’re not coming in through the back.”
Both men jerked their heads in nods and turned to run back down the same corridor we’d just come from.
“Go up to the roof,” Hollan instructed Stewart and Bryson. “You’ll be able to take them out from there.”
My worst fears. If Stewart and Bryson started shooting the guys from the roof, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
“No, wait!” I cried, putting out my hands, but unsure of what I to do. It wasn’t as though I could wrestle the men to the ground.
A roof exit also meant there was another way to get in. What did the guys have planned? They would have a plan. They would have already assessed this place and would be coming in with a coordinated attack.
I hoped they had that tank Hollan had mentioned.
My gaze scanned the glass booth Stewart and Bryson were now leaving. Was there a button I could hit that would open the door? If I was able to do something to help give the guys access to this place, it would make this whole thing a lot easier. In my mind’s eye, I saw myself opening the door for them, and then being able to tell them where Hollan was keeping the memory stick. I imagined how proud they’d all be of me, how they’d see what I’d been through in order to make this happen, how they’d consider me to be a part of their team. But I didn’t have time for girlish fantasies. Steward and Bryson had both already pulled their weapons.
“What do you want to do with her?” Stewart asked, jerking his chin at me. His muddy brown eyes never left my face, and it sent a chill through me. Would he be looking for a repeat performance of what he’d attempted to do to me in the cell? “Want me to lock her up again?”
Hollan’s lips twisted, and his eyes darted between the scenes on the monitors, and back down the corridor, toward the cell.
He shook his head. “No, actually. I think I’d like her to see what happens to people who try to get one over on me.”
My stomach flipped, and nausea rose inside me. Was he going to make me sit and watch as Stewart and Bryson picked the guys off one by one, shooting at them from the flat roof? The idea of watching each of them drop on screen filled me with horror. I hated being here. I needed to be able to do something to help, though I was clueless as to what.
“I assume we’re shooting to kill?” Steward asked as he pushed past me. He shot me a look of triumph, and I glared back at him.
Hollan nodded. “Yes. I want to see every single of one them dead.”
Ice solidified in my soul.
If I lost all of them, what would be the point in fighting?
Chapter Thirteen
Stewart and Bryson took off at a run, heading toward the stairs that would take them to the roof, I assumed. Both men held their guns at their sides, preparing to shoot Isaac and the others.
“Get in there,” Hollan said, giving me a shove from behind to push me into the glass room containing all the security monitors. “Maybe we should take bets on how long it takes for my guys to put a bullet in each of yours.”
“They’re not that easy to kill,” I growled. “You’ve tried it once before, remember?”
“That was different. Then we were on their territory. Now they’re on mine.”
He was right, and that realization caused dread to settle like a stone in my gut.
I glanced back at the screens. The men had separated, surrounding the building.
Could I scream and shout, run to the big roll-down door and bang my fists against it and yell my warning? But this place was supposed to be soundproof, and bulletproof, and the guys would never understand exactly what I was trying to tell them. To look up!
But if I could get onto the roof as well, they’d be able to hear me. My mind flicked over everything I’d seen since I’d been here. I’d watched the direction Stewart and Bryson had run—back down the other wing of the building, where the medical bay was located. There must be a door with a stairwell located behind it, as I hadn’t seen any actual stairs. But first I needed to get away from Hollan.
Though I loved being able to see the guys again, I was terrified I’d hear shots and see one of them drop to the ground with a bullet hole in his head or chest. I needed to get out of here. I wasn’t cuffed or tied up in any way. I just needed a distraction, or to slip past Hollan. Would the guy in glasses try to stop me as well? I didn’t know. He didn’t look like he’d be much of a threat, but these men were employed by Hollan for a reason, and I didn’t want to underestimate anyone.
Time was running out.
On screen, I watched Isaac point to the building and gesture to get someone who was out of shot to move closer. I didn’t want to lose sight of them, but the monitor was the object nearest to me.
Moving fast, I grabbed the monitor by its edges. I was conscious of my injured hand, but I couldn’t let my fears of hurting myself again slow me down. Dislocated fingers could be fixed, but I wouldn’t be able to do anything to bring any of the guys back if they were killed. Heaving with all of my strength, yanking the wires out at the back, I swung the monitor at Hollan. He gave a yell of shock and surprise, automatically lifting his hands to protect his face. He held his gun in one hand, and as the screen hit him, he released his hold on the weapon, and it went spinning to the floor. Glass smashed everywhere, tiny pieces raining down around us like confetti. The other man had cowered back, his arms up over his head to protect himself.
My gaze darted to the dropped gun. I didn’t have much time. Hollan would recover quickly enough, and then my moment would be lost. Darting forward, I snatched up the gun, ignoring the splinters of glass that lay on top of it, jabbing into my already painful hand. I pushed away the pain—the tenderness of my dislocated fingers, and the sharp jabs of glass—and I ran, taking off in the direction I’d seen Stewart and Bryson go.
“Get her!” I heard Hollan yell from behind me. He was talking to the other man. But the guy in glasses didn’t look as though he’d been brought in for his fighting ability, and I assumed he was here more for the tech side of things. He wasn’t about to chase me around the building.
My fingers tightened around the grip of the gun I’d stolen from Hollan. I wished I’d been able to shoot him right then and there, but he still hadn’t shown me the memory stick, and though he’d taken me to the reinforced room with the code on the door, he hadn’t actually put it in front of my eyes. He might have been lying, for all I knew, and the memory stick wasn’t there at all. Fucking thing. I wished it never existed, and all of this pain wouldn’t have happened. But wishes meant nothing, and I had to deal with reality.
Ahead of me, a door stood open—a fire escape. I hadn’t noticed the door before, but now it jutted into the corridor, it was obvious. I ran, terrified I’d be too late, and I’d hear shots sounding, but Stewart and Bryson must be waiting for the guys to creep close enough that they wouldn’t miss, but also so the others wouldn’t have a chance to run once the first shots had been fired.
More shouts of anger followed me. Hollan was coming after me. He wouldn’t give me another chance after this. I had to make this work.
I sprinted up the concrete steps, taking them two at a time. A small building was positioned on the top of the roof, which housed the staircase, and the door to it stood open. Through the open doorway, I spotted Stewart and Bryson standing near the edge of the roof, their guns aimed as they watched the guys approach below. The guys were unknowingly being stalked from above.
Not caring for my own safety, I opened my mouth and yelled as loud as I could. “They’re on the roof! Gunmen on the roof!”
Both men spun to me, eyes wide in surprise. I set my sights on Stewart first, my fury rising inside me like a wild animal. I lifted Hollan’s gun and aimed it directly at him, anger cur
ling my lip and making my gaze hard.
My finger squeezed the trigger, just as Stewart lifted his own weapon in return. I held his gaze, challenging him to do it. If he shot me, Hollan would kill him as well. They still didn’t have the code.
All the things he’d done to me flashed through my mind, how he’d mashed my face against the floor, and had tried to pull down my jeans from behind. I thought of how he’d grabbed my breasts and pushed his hand between my thighs when he’d been patting me down on the road. I remembered how his hot breath had felt against my ear, the stench of the cigarette he’d just smoked, and the revulsion it had sent through me. Maybe I’d meant only to use the gun as a threat, but my body had other ideas.
I squeezed the trigger, the gun rocking in my grip. The crack of gunfire cut through the air, and a moment later Stewart took a staggered step back. He glanced down at the bullet hole in his chest, and the gun he held dropped from his fingers. He looked up at me in disbelief and his mouth opened, but no sound came out. His legs seemed to give way beneath him and he pitched backward, but he was too close to the edge of the roof. Almost comically, he slumped down on his butt, but he tilted back as he fell. His weight and momentum kept him going, and his legs flew up into the air as the rest of his body tipped off the edge of the roof. The last thing I saw were his feet vanishing as he fell off the side to the ground below.
I heard the thump and crunch as he hit the cracked concrete surrounding the building. Someone—one of the guys, I assumed—gave a yelp of surprise as the body struck the ground close by.
Decoding Darkness Page 9