by P. W. Child
"It's, er . . . it's a personal matter," he tried. "I can't really discuss it out in the open here. Don't you have anywhere a little more discreet?"
Her gaze was unflinching. "I'm sorry, sir, but I would have to get my manager to authorize that. Do you want me to call him? It's just that he's dealing with another guest and it might take him a little while to get here, so if your call is urgent . . . "
"Er, you know what, it's fine," said Sam, backing away. "I've just seen someone I need to talk to anyway. I'll just wait until the phone in our room's been fixed."
"Certainly, sir. Have a pleasant evening." As Sam sidled away from the reception area, he saw the girl pick up the phone. He wondered whether she was calling Sara, or perhaps someone else within FireStorm, or someone they had bribed or coerced. Of one thing he was certain: that call meant danger for him and the others.
"How do we know you won't just kill him?" Nina demanded. "Or leave him to die?"
Sara tapped her long nails against the arm of the chair with growing irritation. "You don't," she said. "But Dave knows that he can trust me, even if he has abused my trust. Once I have his key, we can bring the backup servers online and undo the damage you three have done. You will have been no more than a minor annoyance. We won't be able to risk having Dave at the heart of the operation again, of course, but we would be prepared to keep all three of you on our peripheries. We can provide you with lives, employment, and places to live—in exchange for your loyalty. Gradually you would be able to work your way back into the fold. FireStorm is forgiving—as you would know already, had you embraced it."
"So you're offering to let us live under constant surveillance? What if we refuse? Is that the bit where we end up getting sliced up in the middle of the desert by your drugged followers?"
"That never happened, Nina," Sara lowered her gaze and stared directly into Nina's eyes. "You would do well to remember that."
"And you would do well to go fuck yourself," Nina snarled. "I know what I saw. And I know that you're a fucking psychopath."
Too late Nina realized that she had finally gone too far. Sara's jaw tightened. With great care and precision she crossed one leg over the other, smoothed down her skirt and spoke to the remaining acolyte. "This is getting us nowhere," she said. "Kill him."
The door, Sam thought. There's got to be a phone on the street, or another building I can go to, or even just someone passing by who might let me use their phone.
He strolled casually toward the door. Just going for a late night stroll, he repeated in his head. Taking the air. Stretching my legs.
"Sir?" A tall, broad-shouldered man stepped in front of the door that Sam was approaching. "I'm sorry, sir, but we can't let you go outside just now." The blood froze in Sam's veins as he heard the words. "There's been a police incident on the street outside, and they've requested that we don't let anyone leave the building until they give us the all clear. For your own protection, sir. There are some things you might not want to see out there."
I'll bet, Sam thought. He craned his neck, trying to determine whether there was any truth to the man's story. Sure enough, he detected a slight flicker of a flashing blue light, but nothing more conclusive than that. There's got to be another way out, he told himself. He had seen an emergency exit in the stairwell, but it had been covered in signs warning that it would activate an alarm when opened. Sam was not sure that evacuating the whole building was the way to go. Pausing in the middle of the lobby, he looked around, wondering whether there might be an exit through the kitchens or the laundry.
Then an elevator dropped past him, descending rapidly into the bowels of the building. As it flashed past, Sam caught a glimpse of a face he recognized. Julia Rose.
Nina screamed as the acolyte advanced on Purdue, his knife in his hand. A long stream of angry threats spilled from her lips. She saw Purdue raise his good arm, ready to defend himself as best he could, but she threw herself between the two of them and lunged at the acolyte with her cane.
By sheer luck, she caught him square on the back of the hand and heard a couple of the small bones crack. He dropped the knife and she kicked it away, so charged with adrenaline that she did not even register the pain in her damaged ankle as she moved. The acolyte spun around, ready to go after the lost blade, but Purdue leaped up and flung his good arm round the young man's throat, hauling him backward, giving Nina the split-second she needed to dive across the floor and grab it.
She held it out as she turned back to face the acolyte, prepared for him to have shrugged Purdue off and come after her, but he remained sprawled on the floor. The two men were grappling with each other. It was clear that Purdue would not be able to maintain his grasp for long, but he was putting up as much of a fight as he could. Sara sat by and watched, an expression of distaste on her face. On instinct Nina started to move toward her, planning to make the most of her distraction and do her some harm.
She got no more than two steps before another figure entered the room. Nina did not even stop to think. She jumped behind the man, grabbed his arm and twisted it sharply up his back. Automatically he bent backward, giving Nina the opportunity to press her blade against his throat. She could see it nicking the skin. A fat red drop of blood welled up against the metal.
"Nina . . . " the man croaked. "What are you doing?"
She nearly let go as she noticed who it was, but recovered herself in the nick of time. "Sorry, Jefferson," she said, "but I don't have a choice."
Without a thought for who might be watching him, Sam ran full speed toward the stairwell and dashed down another flight of stairs, past the spa, the gym, into the housekeeping area where only staff were permitted to go. At the entrance to each new level he stared through the glass panels in the doors, looking for any sign that the elevator had recently arrived.
As he set foot on the top step of the final flight, leading down to the empty laundry, Sam froze. The door below him had swung open and was now slowly falling shut, and someone was climbing the dimly lit stairs with tentative steps.
"Julia Rose!" Sam whispered, as soon as she crept into view. She jumped, gaped at him in terror for a moment, then turned tail and fled back downstairs. Sam went after her, catching her just as she burst back into the basement laundry room. "It's ok, it's ok!" He worked to keep his voice gentle, as she lashed out at him. Glad that he was taller and stronger, he pinned her flailing arms to her sides with as little force as he could. "I'm not going to hurt you. Are you all right?"
"Don't take me back to them," she pleaded, her breathing harsh and shallow, her thin shoulders heaving as she leaned against one of the industrial washing machines. "Please. Sam, you have to help me, they think I betrayed them. When they found me in that cell they thought it was my choice—that I'd sacrificed myself to let Nina go, because they'd go easy on me. Sara said—" Julia Rose stifled a sob, then composed herself again and plowed on. "Sara said that our little plan wasn't going to work, and they were going to make an example of me because she couldn't stand people who try to play one side against another. She thought I'd been faking it when I followed her, Sam! She thought it was all just me trying to get a good story—but I meant it, I really did. I thought she was so . . . Anyway, she said I could make up for it all at the next hunt. Then they blindfolded me and put me in a helicopter and brought me here. I got away, but the chopper pilot's not looking so good and I feel so bad. That poor guy, what if he's . . . ? I didn't want to hurt him, but I had to get away, and now I don't know where I am or how to get out. Please, Sam. Help me."
Sam groaned and slumped down onto one of the oversized laundry bags. "That's not going to be easy. God, I'm glad you're all right, though. I felt really bad about leaving you there. Look, here's what's happening. Sara is upstairs and she has Nina and Purdue. I need to get help, but I can't get to the phones and they've got people who won't let me outside. We need to get out. We need to get them out."
Julia Rose was quiet, pensive, considering what Sam had just told her. She l
ooked around at the piles of sheets and heavy cotton bags. "Give me your lighter," she said. "I know you have one, you always have one. Give it to me."
It was clear what she was about to do, yet Sam's heart was in his mouth in disbelieving anticipation. Her hand trembled as she took hold of the lighter. She walked across the laundry to the far end, selected a pile of sheets beneath a smoke detector, then flicked the lighter open and held it against the cloth.
"It's better this way," she explained, as she waited for the flame to catch. "If we just broke the glass on an alarm or opened a fire door—that would activate a different symbol on the alarm system than if it's started by genuine flames. This way they'll definitely evacuate." She watched with satisfaction as the flames took hold and a thin trail of smoke spiraled up toward the ceiling.
Sam dragged a few sheets from the nearest pile and laid them over the laundry sacks, making sure there were no gaps that could act as a fire break. The farther the fire spreads, the more time this will buy us, he thought.
"Wait!" Sara held up a hand, stopping the acolyte in his tracks. "Let go."
The acolyte released Purdue without question. Nina tried not to let her hands tremble, afraid of both showing her fear and accidentally slitting Jefferson's throat. Purdue scrambled to his feet. He waved at Jefferson's left hand. "There!" he wheezed, trying to get his breath back. "There! In his hand!"
"What's in your hand?" Nina demanded, squeezing Jefferson's trapped arm.
"I was bringing these to Sara," he replied in strangled tones, opening his fingers to let Purdue see what he was carrying. "What's the matter?"
Without answering, Purdue snatched them from Jefferson's hand. Two small pendants attached to leather thongs dangled from his fingers. He squeezed each one gently, popping them open to reveal that they were truly USB devices. "We have them," he smiled. "All three. Now let us—"
Nina never heard the end of Purdue's sentence. Before he could finish, the air was torn by the screaming of the fire alarm.
☼
Chapter Thirty
Sara's lovely face contorted into a snarl. "Go find out if that's genuine!" she snapped at the acolyte, and then turned her gaze to Nina. "You don't mind if we break up your little hostage situation, right? You want to know too?"
The acolyte pushed past, forcing Nina to relax her grip a little to avoid cutting Jefferson's throat by accident. Nevertheless, she did not let him go. "Jefferson, you need to give those things to me," she growled.
"Nina," Jefferson spoke through gritted teeth, trying not to move. "You can't stop this. It's important. It needs to happen. Just accept—"
"Jefferson, just fucking listen to me. I really don't want to hurt you, but I swear I will. Give them to me now."
"Jefferson," Sara's voice was soft and dangerous. She rose from her seat, pulling herself up to her full height and gliding like a snake across the floor. Nina deliberately repositioned the knife, drawing Sara's attention to the way the point was pricking at Jefferson's jugular. "Listen to me. These people are trying to destroy everything we've built. We can't allow that. There's no price too high, you know that. You know that."
Nina forced her hand to stay steady. It was trying to shake, wanting nothing more than to let Jefferson go. I can't do this, she thought. They're going to call my bluff. They know I'm not going to cut his throat. All they have to do is wait because in a moment or two we're going to have to get out of the building and I'm going to—
A flash of movement behind Sara caught Nina's eye. Purdue was on his feet, his hands closing on the sides of Sara's head. Swiftly, elegantly, he delivered a sharp twist. The crack brought the bile up in Nina's throat. She flinched, letting go of Jefferson.
Before Sara's body had hit the floor, Purdue reached out and pulled the keys from Jefferson's hand. He grabbed Nina and hustled her out of the room, leaving Jefferson behind. The last thing she saw as the door closed behind them was Jefferson dropping to his knees, calling Sara's name.
In the dingy stairwell, Sam and Julia Rose crouched and waited. They could hear the fire alarm and the sound of people beginning to make their way down the brightly lit, guest-friendly stairs above. "We should stay down here in the staff area until there's a bit of a crowd in the lobby," Sam suggested. "No sense in moving too soon and making ourselves too visible."
When they judged that the evacuation was well underway and they would have sufficient cover as they left the building, they crept to the top of the "Staff Only" stairs and joined the flow of guests into the lobby. The receptionists were out from behind their desks and directing people out of the building, uttering calm reassurances that although this was not a drill, the fire department was on its way and that everything was under control. If only they knew how untrue that is, Sam thought.
"Excuse me," he called, collaring one of the receptionists. "I'm just a bit worried—I left my friends in their room and I think, er . . . One of them is injured, she's got a bad ankle, and I'm concerned in case she—"
"It's ok, sir," the receptionist smiled back, continuing to wave people past. "We have fire marshals who will do a sweep of each floor. They'll check each room. We won't leave your friends behind. Now I'm going to have to ask you to step outside."
Countless bodies surged past Sam, carrying him along in their wake. It was all he could do to keep sight of Julia Rose. The jostling crowd half-dragged him out of the Verbena and across the street. It occurred to Sam to look in the direction from which the flashing blue lights had come earlier, to see whether there genuinely had been an incident. Sure enough, there was a police car—though whether it had been there for some time or was newly arrived, it was impossible to tell.
Sam bobbed about in the mass of people, holding his head as high as he could, scanning the crowd for Nina and Purdue, and keeping a lookout for Sara or the acolyte or anyone else who would give him reason to run. What are we going to do now? he asked himself. The hotel staff will find the dead acolyte. They're bound to notice that Nina and Purdue are both hurt. God only knows what's been going on up in that room. I've no idea whether they ever got those keys. And now we've set fire to the hotel, and I'm just hoping Nina and Purdue will get out alive and that I'll have figured something out by the time they do. And what about Julia Rose? What am I going to do about her?
Up on the fourth floor, Nina pulled Purdue's good arm around her shoulder and moved as fast as his stab wound and her limp would allow them to go.
"You're never going to manage the stairs in that state," Nina muttered, looking at the laceration. She half-helped, half-dragged him toward the elevators and hit the call button. "We're in luck," she said, as she heard the mechanism working. "They're still functioning." Purdue managed nothing more than a weak smile in response.
The doors slid open and they stepped into the bubble of glass. The elevator that had arrived first was the one that faced out over the street, offering a view of the Las Vegas Strip, the distant desert, and the crowd on the road below. That's good, Nina thought, we're in clear view of everyone, we'll be safe. I'm sure we will.
With stomach-churning speed, they descended. Nina hauled Purdue into position, ready to get him into the lobby and to the comparative safety of the crowd. The bell pinged and the sleek white doors opened, revealing a corridor instead of the lobby. Sara's acolyte was standing with a gun in his hand.
"Nina!" The cry was out of Sam's mouth before he even realized it. High above him he could see Nina and Purdue being held hostage by the acolyte in the glass elevator. The distance was too great for him to see the gun, but the angle of the acolyte's arm told him everything he needed to know. The next thing he knew was that his feet were slamming against the road, carrying him back into the hotel, barging his way past the staff who tried to stop him.
He reached the elevator doors just as they parted. Nina and Purdue were on the other side, about to be marched out, but Sam seized hold of both of them and hauled them out. The acolyte gave a yell and lunged forward but Sam hurled himself forward, pu
tting his whole weight into it, and shoved the young man back against the glass.
"Go!" Sam yelled at Nina. Still pinning the dazed acolyte to the glass with one hand, he reached out with the other and hit the control panel, aiming for the highest floor he could. The doors closed. Sam felt his stomach drop as the ground fell away beneath them.
This is it, Sam thought, this is going to be the last thing I see. A man whose name I don't even know, silhouetted against the night sky and the bright lights of Vegas. I'm about to get shot in the face. Just like Trish.
The handful of steps from the elevators to the door felt like miles to Nina. Adrenaline was preventing her from feeling the pain in her ankle too severely, but she was fully aware of the weight of Purdue slumped on her shoulder. He was trying his best to support himself, but the loss of blood was making him weaker by the minute.
"Just a few more steps, Dave," she encouraged him. "We're nearly out."
Cool night air surrounded them, welcome and refreshing. No sooner had they got out of the building than Julia Rose ran over and helped support Purdue. They slumped down on the nearest empty stretch of pavement, and Purdue immediately pulled out the tablet and began to unfold it.
"There's no time to lose," he said softly. "Nina, hold these for a moment."
He passed her the three keys while he pecked and pinched his way through his own security. His slender fingers flew at lightning speed.
"Julia Rose," Nina said, "you're the one with no injuries yet, so we need you to go and find us a cab. We'll get you out of here safely, but we need transport. The first one you see, bring it here. Tell the driver we'll pay ten times his normal rate in exchange for no questions asked." Julia Rose, eager to be far away from the Verbena, did not need to be told twice.
"I have it," Purdue whispered. "Now, the keys!" One by one Nina handed him the keys and watched as he deftly slid the thin connector into the barely perceptible ports on the tablet. As soon as the third one was in, it flashed a code—too briefly, Nina was sure, for anyone to memorize it.
