Chapter 2
Two
Priority departure, yes.
Priority landing, not so much.
They circled an hour before finally touching down at SFO, and by the time Nic hit the elevator for the hipster-infested hive complex he now called home, it was midnight. His disgust, amplified by the K-pop playing in the elevator, was almost enough to distract him.
Almost.
Key an inch from the lock to his third-floor unit, he looked down and noticed the scuffs on his oxfords, visible in the light streaming out from under the door.
The scuffs he didn’t care about; the light stopped him cold.
Maybe the complex’s management had been in for maintenance or inspections. But they would’ve given him notice of that; they legally had to.
Glass shattered inside the unit.
Nic snatched back his key, dropped his bags, and reached for his sidearm. Maintenance wouldn’t be in his apartment at this hour.
He visualized the one-bedroom floor plan.
Small faux wood foyer, bathroom and bedroom to the left, laundry on the right, a carpeted hallway that led to the main living area and kitchen.
The glass had shattered from somewhere deep inside the unit—not in the foyer or bathroom.
With the rest of the area carpeted, it had to have been in the kitchen.
If he entered quietly, he wouldn’t be heard or seen in the entry hallway.
He could sneak up on the intruder before they knew he was there.
He pressed the door handle down—unlocked—but when he pushed the door, it didn’t give. The deadbolt was still engaged. Sliding his key in gently, he rotated it right, millimeter by millimeter, minimizing the click of the lock being thrown.
Weapon in hand, he eased open the door and snuck inside.
And with one deep breath, he realized his caution was unnecessary.
The aroma of beef stew tickled his nose and a string of curses, long on the vowels and short on the Rs, reached his ears.
He’d know that voice anywhere, and the ache in his chest eased a little at hearing it live and in person again.
B no question. He was a first responder already on scene who could rescue trapped residents or help coordinate evac.
This was his job and judging by the determined look in Nic’s eyes, he considered it his too.
Cam didn’t bother trying to convince him otherwise.
He might be a lawyer now, but the soldier resided just beneath the surface.
If Nic could be on the front lines, he would be, and there were only a handful of others Cam trusted as much as Nic to have his back.
He took the pillowcase from Nic, folded it into a triangle, and tied it bandanna-style around the lower part of his face.
After Nic did the same, he dug two flashlights out of another box and handed one to Cam. “You’re more recently trained in evac procedures. You lead.”
Smoke was slowly seeping into the third-floor hallway, not a full-on pour like through Nic’s vents yet, so the other residents were more disoriented than panicked.
Woken in the middle of the night, driven out of their units by the alarms, they struggled to find their way to the exits in the dim hallway, the emergency lighting and signs not as bright as they should be.
“This way, folks!” Cam shone his light up at the glossy white ceiling, moving it around like a beacon. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” he hollered in his agent voice.
People began to hustle, taking his orders seriously.
“Boston!” Nic called from where he stood holding open the stairwell door, ushering people through. “We need to get upstairs!”
“I got it here!” A third voice entered the fray. A young man in uniform was shoving his way through the crowd, flashing a badge. “Shante Bridges, Redwood City PD. Just got home from my shift. You cops too?”
“Assistant Special Agent in Charge Cameron Byrne.” He flashed his FBI badge, then aimed the beam of his flashlight at Nic.
“And that’s Captain Dominic Price, retired SEAL and federal prosecutor.
” He normally wouldn’t prioritize, much less reference, Nic’s rank, but Cam didn’t want to waste time arguing who would take lead here.
Shante caught the drift. “Go on, then. I got it here. I’m sure they can use your help upstairs.”
“Thanks, man.” Cam slapped his shoulder, then hurried to join Nic in the stairwell. Using his bigger body to cut a path along the rail, Cam climbed the steps in front of Nic, the smoke getting thicker the closer they got to the fourth floor. The crowd, however, was thinning out.
Cam understood why when they reached the fourth-floor landing and heat blasted his face. “Fire must be on this end.”
“It’s right there!” shouted a woman running past them, dragging a bleary-eyed kid behind her. The next man pointed to the elevator side of the stairwell. “It’s the corner unit!” he hollered, then thundered down the stairs, picking up the kid for the woman, who thanked him profusely.
“Right above my unit,” Nic said, redrawing Cam’s attention. “We need to make sure it’s clear.”
Cam nodded and they moved into the hallway where they were blasted by another wave of heat.
People were running away from this end, away from the corner unit that was clearly the source of the fire, dark black smoke billowing out from around the door’s edges.
Cam laid his hand on the door—blistering hot.
Cursing, he snatched his hand back and kicked at the door with his foot.
It didn’t budge.
“You smell that?” Nic said beside him. “Underlying the smoke.”
Cam sniffed and nearly hacked up a lung, but yeah, he smelled it. Taken together with how hot that door had been to the touch, there was only one conclusion. “Accelerant.”
“Has to be. Meaning we gotta get everyone out of here now.” Nic banged on the door with his fist. “First responders! Is anyone in there? First responders, open up!”
“It’s empty,” came a thin, wobbly voice from across the hall.
Cam spun, gaze following the direction of the voice to a little girl in the opposite doorway. Dressed in Wonder Woman pajamas, she couldn’t have been more than eight. Tears streaked down her face and as a coughing fit overcame her, she covered her mouth with her hand.
“I got this,” Cam said to Nic. “Make sure the other units are clear.” Nic nodded and took off down the hall, banging on doors, while Cam crouched in front of the little girl. “Hey, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
“Amali.”
“Amali, my name’s Cam, and that’s my friend Nic.” He shone his light at Nic, who was rustling stragglers out of their units and directing them to the far stairwell. “We’re cops,” he oversimplified. “We need to get you out of here.”
She grabbed Cam by the hand and tugged him inside the unit. “I can’t leave Nani.” In the living area, an older woman wheezed and struggled to stand from a wheelchair.
Cam glanced at the pictures on the walls. Amali with a mom and dad and her grandmother, her Nani. “Where are your parents?”
“Wedding,” the older woman said. “Sacramento. On their”—she broke into another coughing fit— “way back.”
“Boston!” Nic called from the door. “Hall is clear. We gotta get out of here.”
“Help me!” he hollered as he darted into the kitchen. He grabbed the hand towels off the fridge door, wet them, and was coming back into the living room as Nic charged in. Cam tossed him a towel and was going to offer to carry the grandmother, but Amali had already attached herself to his leg.
“Don’t leave!”
“We’re not, sweetheart.”
“I’ve got Riya,” Nic said, tying the cloth over the older woman’s mouth, whose name he’d also apparently gotten.
Cam knelt and did the same for Amali, then picked her up in his arms, shifting her onto one hip.
“Stairwell across the hall is closer.” Nic adjusted Riya in his arms. “Open some doors for me.”
“Amali, I want you to hide right here.” Cam patted his chest and Amali shoved her face into it. “We’re going to run, okay?”
She nodded, and Cam hauled ass to the door, Nic on his heels.
He held his breath and charged across the hallway.
Visibility was nil, the air roasting, and Amali screamed in his arms, but they made it across the hallway in one piece, unburnt.
He slammed open the stairwell door, his own eyes watering from the smoke, and Nic barreled through behind him.
Shante was waiting for them on the third-floor landing.
“We’re clear up there!” Nic said. “All clear here?”
“Clear, Captain.”
“Let’s get out of here!”
Cam couldn’t agree more.