EXCERPT ~ PRIEST #2
Two seconds later, and Becca was inside the building, racing for the elevator.
Another couple, and she was waiting for the doors to open, ready to change to the stairs if needed.
Not that the upper floors would be as secure as the underground levels, but getting caught out in the open waiting for the elevator was a stupid way to die.
A muted ping sounded just as a man appeared at the glass doors, but Becca was already darting into the elevator.
Hitting the button as she removed a small canister from her purse.
It wasn’t much, just a miniature version of an air horn, but the ear-piercing blast might be all she needed if the guy managed to reach her before the doors had fully closed.
Might buy her those precious few seconds she needed to reach safety.
Hearing his boots scuff the floor several feet back just as the doors slammed shut had her closing her eyes—grasping the damn canister as if it was a lifeline, secretly praying the doors didn’t open up, again, if he pressed the button, even though she knew they wouldn’t.
There were safeguards preventing such an occurrence from happening.
From someone breaching the lower levels without having to input the proper codes.
That didn’t stop her from running out of the elevator and down the hallway once it had stopped and opened to the main corridor.
Two rights and a left, and she was back at her office.
Using her keycard to open the door then lock it behind her.
She didn’t want to trap herself in any one room, but she didn’t have many choices.
The entire facility was nothing more than a series of rooms connected by long hallways.
Nowhere open she could hide and have options.
Which meant moving over to her computer station and booting up her system.
Activating the interior cameras once she had everything humming.
Watching the feeds for any unusual activity.
Being prepared to use the fire extinguisher on the rear wall as a weapon if needed.
Crack some creep over the head if he managed to reach her.
It shouldn’t be possible. Chasing her along the streets—following her into the building—was one thing.
The front foyer lacked any real form of security in order to appear benign.
No sense having a high security facility hiding in plain sight if anyone could tell it wasn’t a mundane office building simply by looking through the front windows or walking through the revolving doors. But to reach the lower levels...
There were key codes and access cards. All of which were changed weekly.
And her boss—NSA Director Tom Smithers—had installed new security measures.
Alerts that notified him, personally, if anyone entered the facility at odd hours.
Just like now—ten-thirty on a Friday night.
When not even the janitorial staff were scheduled to be in the building.
God, she hoped she’d set off a few alarms. That half a dozen highly trained NSA agents would suddenly burst into the hallways. Massive guns. Outfitted for a small invasion. That all she’d have to do was wait and help would come.
Seeing the doors to the elevator open, four men dressed in black step out, had her pulse tapping triple time.
Her hands shaking ever so slightly. They weren’t NSA.
Whether it was the way they walked or how they scanned the area, as if wondering which direction to take, she wasn’t sure.
All she knew was that they weren’t men she wanted to fight.
Why hadn’t she gotten Devlyn to teach her how to shoot?
Becca had been to the range as part of her NSA training, but she hadn’t mastered it.
Might be able to clip one of the men if he stood still long enough, but there wasn’t a hope in hell she’d hit targets while running or jumping like other field analysts.
In fact, other than the few times she’d helped out Cannon and his crew, she hadn’t actually been in the field.
Even then, she’d only used her hacking skills.
Had been completely removed from any risk.
And why hadn’t she insisted on learning how to fight?
Sure, she knew enough self-defense moves to drop a guy on his ass.
Give herself an out, or at least a chance to grab one of the canisters out of her purse.
Sound. Spray. She had a variety, each designed to give her an opening to run.
But this was way out of her league. Went beyond some drunk guy hoping to cop a feel.
These men were killers. She could tell by the stiff lines of their silhouettes.
What looked like knifes and goggles and canisters strapped on their vests.
The kind Crow and his buddies wore. The kind that spoke of hard men accustomed to doing hard things.
And she had no doubts they’d put a bullet between her eyes without blinking.
Which meant changing her tactics. She grabbed her cell, tried to dial out, but it was dead. Either drained with some kind of weird electromagnetic pulse she hadn’t noticed, or they were jamming the signal. Preventing her from calling out.
She shifted gears—lifted the landline. Nothing. No tone, no static. Just a big empty. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it was dead, too. Like she’d be if she didn’t do something. Figure how to outsmart them.
That was her only line of defense. Her brain. If she could somehow trick them into one of the detention cells, she could lock them inside. Get clear before they overrode the system. Maybe used a grenade to blow the doors.
Which meant jumping on her computer. Opening and closing some of the remote doors to lead them down the far corridor.
Hope they thought it was her trying to escape.
Took a few minutes before they abandoned their methodical search.
Started following the string of doors she activated.
The noise that no doubt carried down the hallways.
She made a point of switching everything over to her laptop once the men had passed the corridor leading to her office and continued down the hall.
Just in case she had to adjust her strategy on the fly.
Work some kind of magic at the drop of a hat while leaping over desks or trying to lock some of the security doors.
While she doubted it would stop them, it might slow them down.
Having all the lighting in the building suddenly wink out had her cursing. Watching as the camera feeds blacked out, next. Followed by the interior doors unlocking, the audible click sending a rash of goosebumps cascading down her arms.
Well, crap.
This was bad, and not the position she wanted to be in, where her primary skills were eliminated. Just wiped off the board along with the electricity.
Took a few moments for the emergency backup power to kick in, but it had limited capabilities.
Was mostly scattered lighting and the ventilation system.
No camera feeds, no fancy security. Which meant all the extra tech she’d used to make her office one of the hardest rooms to hack went out the window.
Gone as the locks disengaged, nothing but the metal slab between her and those men.
Were they heading back this way? Did they have a layout of the facility? Knew which room was hers? And now that she couldn’t continue leading them away, would they turn around? Deduce they’d been played and resume their original plan?
She didn’t know. Couldn’t waste time waiting for one of them to pop open the door—drop her before she had a chance to gasp. Fight back.
Why didn’t she have a gun? Or a knife? Maybe a taser that sent ten thousand volts coursing through their muscles. Something to give her a remote chance at walking out of the building alive. Instead, she had a few canisters of pepper spray, a flashlight and that air horn.
Becca stuffed her laptop in her bag, grabbed the horn and the flashlight, then listened at the door.
Nothing. No footsteps. No voices. Just an eerie silence she hoped wasn’t foreshadowing the future.
One where she was dead. She took a deep breath, then cracked the door open and peered down the hall.
Dark shadows lined the edges, only the junction at the end visible in the pale light.
Another breath, and she was moving. Tiptoeing down the hallway, fingers white-knuckled around her only lines of defense. She took her time, placing each step carefully. Using every ounce of skill she had to remain silent.
Was this how Devlyn felt every time she went on an assignment?
Heart thundering in her chest. Palms slick with sweat as she fought to draw in enough air just to keep moving.
Did she have to force herself to swallow past the ball lodged in her throat?
The one about to spew all that coffee Becca had drank across the floor?
How her best friend made it look so damn easy, Becca didn’t know. Couldn’t puzzle out when it was taking all her focus just to walk and not scuff the floor. Keep her breath from wheezing out between clenched teeth.
She reached the end of the hallway seconds, minutes, maybe days later.
Her pulse echoing in her ears, hands visibly shaking.
She paused long enough to clear the hallway, then she was moving, again.
Not quite running but faster than she’d ever walked in her life.
Like earlier, only even quicker. One hand tracking her progress along the wall, the other brandishing the flashlight.
Praying she didn’t reach the corner and run headlong into one of the men.
Was that a scuff behind her? A door opening and closing? Maybe a frustrated curse? She paused, listened, then froze when voices sounded in front of her. Just beyond the next junction.
Becca took a step back, froze, again, when something slammed shut behind her. Definitely a door. Maybe two corridors over.