Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tyrone finished locking up the next three floors in record time; the information Murakami had overheard playing through his mind over and over. A full purge of the entire building, barring the ground floor. His employer had never intended to spare Giselle at all. He nearly kicked himself for not realizing it sooner, it should have been obvious. Hell, it had been. Tyrone could remember thinking that his boss would notice Giselle's aversion to doing any kind of underhanded work sooner or later and take action. He had just assumed that he would have her transferred, or replaced, or something along those lines. But then, he supposed this was more convenient. Or at least cheaper. One didn't pay settlements to the dead.
Reaching the twelfth floor, he found Murakami waiting for him in the stairwell, alone, which he had expected. He had already instructed Jason to take Murakami's radio and precede them to the fiftieth floor to check on Giselle. He had picked Jason to do it largely due to a lack of options; he needed to be sure Murakami was on board with this before things got any more serious. Locking up the twelfth storey, he nodded to his second in command and she fell in step beside him as they continued up towards the thirteenth. Or fourteenth, he supposed, since nobody ever called the thirteenth floor what it actually was.
"Murakami."
She glanced his way, her almond eyes both curious and a little concerned. "Yes, Sir?"
He sighed, finding the words awkward in his mouth. "Are you sure you want to do this? You know by now that what's going on here isn't legal, and getting involved in it isn't part of your duty to the company. If things go badly up there, there's even a chance you'll be killed."
Blinking once or twice at him, she smiled quietly. "I know that. But Miss Fitch never seemed like the type to get wrapped up in these things by choice, so we're alike in that way. Neither of us should be part of this, but we are. So I put myself in her shoes and thought about how scared and worried I would be if I were left alone in my office while armed soldiers were nearby. It feels wrong to just leave her."
Tyrone was honestly surprised by her answer. She had always been the dutiful sort, but never very talkative, so he had never gotten to know very much about her personal beliefs. He supposed that was his fault; he did have a habit of intimidating his staff deliberately.
"Thank you," he managed, more than a tad lamely. He just didn't know how to respond.
Murakami nodded, standing to one side as he locked up the fourteenth storey door. "Sir? If I might, I have a question for you, as well."
"Shoot."
"Is the Jason here, helping us, the Jason? The one you were always so upset about when you first began working here?"
He winced at that; he supposed he had spent a lot of time grumbling under his breath about the troubles the man had caused him. "Yeah, it's him, why?"
She shrugged. "No particular reason, Sir. It's just that it seems odd to me that you would send him up ahead, alone. Do you trust him that much, even with that man who fooled our camera system at large?"
Tyrone chuckled at that. "Oh, believe me, no one could imitate Jason, not perfectly, anyway. I'm pretty sure it would give them a migraine. As for trusting him... I'm not sure if that's the word I would use. Jason's like a dog."
She blinked at that. "A dog, Sir?"
"You know, the sort that keeps pissing on your floor. It drives you crazy that the animal just refuses to learn how to go about its business the right way and you often think about getting rid of it. But it's always happy to see you and tries its stupid, clumsy best to make you happy and you just can't stay mad at it for long. And, by some extraordinary luck, Jason has excellent instincts when it comes to knowing when to come asking for another chance, because it's usually been just long enough that I won't throttle him on sight."
Murakami stifled a laugh with a forced cough, still not quite sure it would be appropriate to be that familiar with her boss. "I would never have pegged you as a pet person, Sir, if you'll excuse me for saying so."
He chuckled dryly. "Well, that's the trouble. I'm not. And I'm just callous enough to see the value in his trying so hard and make use of it."
She frowned at that, not understanding. Or perhaps not entirely sure she wanted to. "What do you mean, Sir?"
"Jason's failed at every task I've ever given him. Hell, he's failed at holding up Lawson and keeping her from investigating things she shouldn't twice over, which is why we're all here right now. But he tries as hard as he can. Possibly too hard. And if Giselle is going to come out of this in one piece, she needs someone like that watching her. Someone willing to put her ahead of himself."
It was Murakami's turn to be unable to find anything to say. On the one hand, her superior had just demonstrated an extremely unfeeling approach to using his subordinates that she was not at all comfortable with, particularly given her own membership in that category. On the other, the lengths he was apparently prepared to go to in planning for Miss Fitch's safety suggested he cared a great deal for her well-being, which would normally have been typical of a warmer individual. All in all, it made it very difficult to decide where she stood on the matter personally.
She was snapped out of this internal debate when Tyrone placed a key into her field of vision. "Here. This is the spare master key, I want you to go ahead up to the thirty-first floor and start locking up from there. I should catch up to you before you hit the fiftieth. We'll save some time this way."
Taking the key, she looked at him in confusion. "But, Sir, shouldn't we just go straight to Miss Fitch? Her safety should be our top priority, shouldn't it?"
Tyrone sighed; it was the question he had personally been wrestling with. "Yes, but at the same time, no. If we leave these doors unlocked, it could prolong the time it takes for the men upstairs to catch Lawson and her friend. Maybe once they have, the boss will call them off. It's a long shot, but it's the only way I can think of to put a pin in this before it blows us all sky high."
Murakami nodded. "Understood, Sir."
"Before you go; do we have anyone else up there? I ordered everyone downstairs, I know, but do we have any stragglers?"
She frowned, thinking quickly. "No, Sir, I don't believe so. There was a guard on the radio just after the blackout asking if he should proceed upstairs, but then your orders came through and he acknowledged them, so I imagine he came downstairs with the other guards in the upper floors."
Tyrone sighed, but nodded. "Okay. Jason has your radio, right? If you need anything, use the yellow one I gave you to get in touch."
She nodded again and gave a quick salute before increasing her pace up the stairs to something resembling a high-stepping jog. If Miss Fitch was even half as concerned by this situation as she herself was, she would appreciate any reassurance she could get; best they get to her and get back to the ground floor as quickly as possible.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 55