Chapter Three
The New Dawn Revolution successfully employed disruptive tactics, causing widespread chaos. Eli had briefed Jason about what was going on, instructing him to let the rest of the security team know and to begin searching for Mr. Dempsey. It was his best chance of finding Olivia.
The guards were spreading out, covering the property, which left little to no coverage in the lobby.
Eli pounded a fist on the front desk. His composure was cracking. He never should’ve left Olivia’s side, even for a minute, no matter how much she wanted to be rid of him. His sole purpose here, the reason she’d brought him, was to cover her back, and he was failing.
He hoped this sabotage was the extent of the ecoterrorists’ plans and that Olivia was somewhere safe, albeit contained. But deep in his gut, he sensed this was only the beginning.
Pounding footsteps from the corridor that led to the stairwell caught his attention. Jason hurried back into the lobby.
Eli was glad the security guard hadn’t been caught in the elevator when the power went out, otherwise he would’ve been trapped.
“What did the management office upstairs say?” Eli asked.
“Dempsey and Chip Whitney went to meet Lane. The executive assistant, Audrey, was supposed to show her where she could set up and interview the staff, but none of the others in the main office know which room it was going to be.”
Eli’s heart sank.
“Mr. Whitney passed by a few minutes ago,” the receptionist said.
The woman had given him trouble about paging Olivia, stating it went against hotel procedure. He’d finally convinced her, only after she’d wasted precious time, but at least now she was doing her best to be helpful.
“Was he alone?” Eli asked.
“He was with two of his bodyguards.”
“Do you have any idea where he went?”
“Mr. Whitney mentioned he needed to speak with the other investors and how he didn’t want to be late. I know he had the corporate meeting room booked for today and I saw him head in that general direction,” the receptionist said.
Backing away, ready to take off, Eli asked, “Where is it?”
“On the west side of the building.” She showed him which way to go. “You’ll pass the lounge, the gym, the pool, and spa, then turn the corner and you’ll see it.”
Turning to leave, Eli sniffed the air and caught the scent of smoke. “Do you smell that? Where is it coming from?”
“Oh, my God,” someone shouted as people hurried from the bar area, funneling into the lobby.
“A huge fire broke out in the kitchen,” another person said, making a beeline for the front doors of the hotel.
“Go check it out,” Eli said to Jason. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
Jason nodded and they separated, with Eli heading for the west side of the building.
“Smoke is coming from the east wing!” someone else shouted in the lobby behind him. “I think there’s a fire down there.”
Eli kept moving to find Whitney.
More than one fire meant it most certainly wasn’t happenstance. Was Gloriosa code for arson?
It wasn’t an uncommon method for ecoterrorists to use, but they usually set empty buildings on fire to avoid hurting anyone. Multiple fires during the soft launch had to be designed to ensure pandemonium with no regard for casualties.
Even worse, they must’ve gotten to Olivia. It was the only explanation for why she didn’t come to the front desk after he’d paged her twice.
How could they have gotten the drop on her? Was she all right?
If anything happened to her on his watch… He erased the thought, refused to consider it.
Following the signs for the gym and spa, he raced down the corridor, bobbing and weaving around guests and staff. Eli needed to get to Whitney. The man might be the only person who could tell him where Olivia was.
Contending with a group of granola-munching environmentalists should’ve been easy-peasy. Instead, this was turning into a nightmare.
He bolted past the lounge and gym and pool.
Next was the backlit door to the spa. Someone ran out, nearly colliding with him, and he had to scramble out of the way.
The door flew open again as several more employees and two guests hurried into the hall along with smoke that was emanating from the spa.
Eli caught hold of a woman in scrubs. “What happened inside?”
“I don’t know. One minute everything was fine and the next there was a fire coming from one of the treatment rooms.”
Why hadn’t smoke detectors gone off or any sprinkler systems activated?
“Pull the fire alarm. Then get away from this place until you can get a cell phone signal and call 911,” he said, and she nodded.
He dashed around the corner and spotted four bodyguards posted outside a conference room that was bathed in sunlight from windows overlooking an immaculate lawn and pond. As Eli approached them, the men went into full protection mode.
Two guards held out their hands, keeping him back.
“Can we help you?” one asked.
“I need to speak with Mr. Chip Whitney. It’s a matter of life or death.”
Coughing on the smoke, Olivia put her arm over her nose and mouth. The sprinkler system didn’t turn on. Just as she figured, unfortunately. But the fire alarm finally sounded.
She recalled Audrey’s evil grin as she spoke about setting multiple fires.
The hotel was massive. There was no way of knowing when help might reach them.
If help would reach them.
Do something, Adani.
More than two lives were hanging in the balance. The baby growing inside her needed her to think of something. To try anything to get out of this.
Olivia hustled to the door that connected to the adjacent ballroom. Maybe they could get in and break a window before the fire spread too far.
It was locked.
The handle wasn’t hot yet. She took off her belt, pulled out the small knife disguised as part of the buckle, and got to work picking the lock on the door.
Sliding the blade on top of the bolt, she pressed down while jiggling the latch with her other hand. The smell of smoke irritated her lungs. They had to reach a window in the other room; otherwise, they would be trapped with no way out. Finally, the bolt slipped out of place.
She swung the door open to a roaring fire. It was too late.
Flames had swept across the carpet, cutting off any chance of reaching the windows. Audrey and Henry must’ve doused the room in gasoline.
Heat pressed down on her. The crackle of hungry flames filled her ears like white noise.
She slammed the door closed.
Soon the flames would reach the fabric-paneled wall, the only thing separating their salon from the inferno.
As she backed away, coughing and gagging, she watched the gray smoke bleed into the room. Seeping in between the panels. It also flowed under the double doors that led to the hall.
“Oh, my God,” Dempsey muttered. “We’re going to die.”
“Take off your jacket.”
“What?”
Olivia marched up to him and took it off him herself. Grasping his arm, she hauled him over to the table. She set his jacket down and thrust a bottle of water into his hand.
“Saturate your suit jacket.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.” She snatched one of the notepads, pulled the cap off a sharpie, and wrote on the paper in big letters. HELP. TRAPPED INSIDE. “That’s not enough. Use another bottle. Saturate it.”
Gagging at the fumes, Olivia ran to the chained double doors. She slid the notepad underneath, in case firefighters came to the room. They might assume the locked door meant it wasn’t being used, and bypass it, moving on to more critical areas.
Coughing, she hurried back to Dempsey, fearing the notepad would simply catch on fire.
“Is this good?” He held up the jacket.
In the dim room, she had to feel it to be sure it was soaking wet. “Yeah.” She put a hand on his back. “Come on.”
Olivia led him to the far back corner of the room, as far as possible from the sources of fire and smoke.
They hunkered down on the floor, shoulder to shoulder.
She pressed the wet cloth over her mouth and nose, and had Dempsey do likewise with the other end.
Smoke still racked her lungs and stung her eyes until they watered.
The taste of gasoline coated her tongue.
But the damp cloth eased her breathing somewhat.
A dense cloud of smoke already covered the ceiling and was quickly permeating the entire room with toxic fumes, clogging the air.
None of this felt like the New Dawn Revolution she’d researched.
Its founder, George Maben, protested the use of violence, advocated nonlethal means of resistance, and even turned himself in to the authorities after the logger had been injured, serving eighteen months in jail.
These current tactics were violent, aggressive, and highly advanced.
Going so far as to pull a gun on her and then lock her and Dempsey in this room.
To die.
The pandas weren’t so toothless after all. They were prepared to kill.
She had questions for Dempsey and Whitney. Or better yet, for Lauren Hahn. Her boss tended to be aware of the clients’ dirtiest secrets, only sharing them with assigned agents on a need-to-know basis.
This qualified for full disclosure. Olivia was going to find out every ugly, sordid thing that had been concealed from her regarding the development of the Rising Rock Resort.
Provided she survived.
Pressing her hand to her stomach, she shut her eyes.
All she saw was Eli. Thick, ebony hair. Dark blue eyes that were as kind as they were tragic.
Olive complexion from his mixed heritage of Irish, Native American, German, and others.
A heart-stopping smile that got her every time.
He resembled the actor who played Superman in the old television show still on streaming, Superman and Lois.
Not perfect like in the comics, but scruffy and rugged.
She always thought of him as her personal man of steel.
It was also why she chose Lane for her alias’s surname.
It was the closest she would ever get to being his Lois.
He’d suffered a lot of loss early in life and made it clear he never wanted to get attached to anyone again.