20
“She’s my best friend, Jack. I understand we can’t get to her now, but we can’t just forget about her either.”
Jill turned off the bathroom light, padded back to the bed, got under the covers, turned on her side and glared up at Jack in the chair. She’d woken up suddenly out of a dream, had seen Jack sitting on that chair and watching her with a strange depth in his gaze, almost like he was looking right into her. She’d smiled at him, then crawled out of bed, the blanket wrapped around her naked body even though Jack had seen it all, touched it all, tasted it all, claimed it all.
Jill had peed and washed her hands and emerged from the bathroom to see Jack still in that sentinel position on the straight-backed metal chair. She’d sighed as she passed him on her way back to bed. “I know that Benson has higher priorities. But I don’t, Jack. Nina’s the reason I was on that highway. She’s the reason we met. She’s the reason we—” Jill frowned when she saw Jack’s expression. “Why are you smiling like that? Is this funny to you?”
Still smiling, Jack shook his head. “No. It’s not funny. It’s amazing. You are so beautifully selfless, Jill. Loyal in a way so complete that it’s reckless, so absolute that it’s dangerous.” He smiled warmly, leaning forward on the chair, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek as Jill peered up at him from where she was snuggled in the bedclothes. “You’re going to be such a good mom.”
Jill almost tumbled out of bed with surprise. “OK, I don’t even know how to process that comment. Is that a compliment? Is it an insult? Is it . . . ohmygod, you’re blushing! Jack Wagner is all red-faced and flustered!” She sat up in bed now, her eyes wide in the dark. “You didn’t mean to say that at all, did you? It just popped out?”
Jack rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting all over the room before settling sheepishly on her smiling face. “You’ve brainwashed me. Scrambled my signals. Suddenly I’m dreaming about you pregnant with my babies, Jill. The two of us raising a family together.” He raised an eyebrow, darted his gaze towards her chest, that familiar wicked grin breaking on his face now. “Your boobs all heavy with milk,” he whispered, slurping his tongue and smacking his lips as Jill buried her face in the blanket and shook her head. “What?” said Jack innocently. “That does happen, you know. It’s a biological fact.”
“Oh, I’ve heard some of your gross biological facts.” Jill peered out from her blankety cave. “You invent new ones to suit your perverted fantasies.”
Jack stood from the chair, tossing it aside like it was a dollhouse-prop. Grinning like a wolf, he stalked towards the bed. “Speaking of perverted fantasies, since we’re both wide awake now, perhaps we can—”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Jill giggled as she rolled her way to the far side of the bed, curled up on her side, covering her entire head with the blanket. After a few moments of giggly tingly anticipation, Jill didn’t feel Jack’s weight on the mattress, and so she stuck her head out. “What are you doing?” she asked with a quizzical smile, cocking her head at Jack’s strange behavior. “OK, you’re freaking me out a little.”
Jack didn’t respond. He was staring at the ventilator shaft on the wall high above the bed, his neck straining towards it, nostrils flaring as he sniffed like an animal who’d just picked up the scent of something interesting.
Or something dangerous.
“Smoke,” Jack said, his eyes wide and alert, body rigid and poised for action. “Filling up the ventilation system, which means it’s a big fire that’s just getting going.” He flicked his gaze to Jill, his tone deadly serious. “Get your clothes on, Jill. Do it now. Shit. Shit. Shit!”
Jill froze for a second, momentarily unable to process what Jack was saying. Then she smelled the smoke too, and suddenly panic ripped through her when she realized they were several floors underground in a sub-basement. The only air-supply was through the ventilation system, and even in the dark Jill could see the room beginning to cloud up from the rapidly thickening smoke pouring in.
Jill coughed violently as thick smoke began to fill the room. She stumbled out of bed, almost falling on her face as the bedclothes got wrapped around her ankles. Jack grabbed her around the waist to steady her, releasing her when she found her footing and nodded quickly to let him know she understood.
Still coughing, Jill wriggled into her dress, not bothering with her underwear and tights. Covering her nose and mouth, Jill felt around for her shoes. Her eyes streamed with tears, and it was only when Jill felt herself being lifted off the carpet that she realized she’d been on her hands and knees, was perhaps close to passing out as the smoke choked out all the oxygen in the room.
“Hold on to me and don’t let go.” Jack pulled her against his body, lifted her off her feet, then stormed to the room door and kicked it open. “Fuck!”
A furnace-hot blast of smoky air almost blew them back into the room. Jill screamed against Jack’s chest, burying her face in the space between his pectorals, taking smoky breaths that had just enough oxygen to keep her conscious.
“I can walk,” she gasped. “Put me down, Jack. You’ll suffocate if you have to carry me. I can walk.”
Jack wasn’t listening. He was running down the smoky corridor with Jill in his arms. Jill could feel his chest expand and contract, almost hear his lungs getting clogged with smoke because he was taking deep breaths thanks to the added burden of carrying her.
Jack ran with her past the elevators, ignoring them and bounding up the stairs two at a time. He was coughing now, and Jill started to panic with worry that he was pushing himself past any reasonable physical limits.
“Put me down!” Jill struggled in his arms, turning her body just enough to grab the metal bannister along the stairs. It was enough to make Jack stop, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw they were burning red from the smoke, his face streaming with sooty tears. “Put me down now!”
Jill tightened her grip on the metal railing, refusing to let go until Jack put her down. With a cough and a head-shake, Jack finally complied, setting her down carefully, then grabbing her arm firmly as they made their way up the stairs.
By the time they got to the main level, Jill’s bare feet were hot from the combination of rug-burn and the flames that they could now see enveloping the building from outside.
“They’re trying to either smoke us out or cook us alive,” Jack snarled as he led Jill through the main hallway which was still somewhat tolerable even though the outside of the building appeared to be a veneer of flames. “The outer shell of the building is supposed to be fire resistant—concrete, steel, and glass—but so much of it is still under construction that there’s exposed drywall and wood that’s burning to create all this smoke. All right. Here’s the main exit.” Jack stopped abruptly when he saw that the metal exit-door was closed, with Hogan and Keller standing off to either side, handguns drawn and ready. “What’s going on?”
Keller glanced over his shoulder. “Romeo Carmine and four SUV-loads of his thugs. They used portable power-hoses to spray highly flammable accelerant all over the building. Flare-guns to light us up. Now they’ve got gunmen stationed outside all four exits to gun us down as we come out.”
“What about the roof?” Jack said. “Couple of us up there with sniper rifles and we can even the odds—or at least provide enough cover for the women to get out.”
“Roof’s on fire too.” Hogan shook his head grimly. “And no sniper rifles—or any assault weapons. Armory hasn’t been stocked yet. All we’ve got are our handguns, and they’re useless from that kind of range.”
Jack’s face tightened. “Where is everyone holed up? All accounted for?”
Keller nodded in the direction of the war-room. “Everyone’s in there. We shut off the ventilation system, blocked the grills in the room to slow the smoke. It’ll buy us some time.”
Jack nodded. “All right. So we’re good then. We can hole up in here until reinforcements show up and either take these idiots down or chase them away.” He grinned. “Who did Benson call? SWAT? FBI? Or did he go directly to Kaiser?”
Hogan and Keller glanced at each other, neither of them returning Jack’s grin.
“What?” Jack said, his grin fading when he saw the grim expressions on his buddies’ faces. “Nobody’s called for backup?” He slid his Darkwater phone out of his trouser pocket, his soot-covered face paling as he tapped the screen furiously, then looked up with a mixture of confusion and anger. “Why don’t I have phone service?”
Keller grunted. “Benson ordered Paige to cut all our phones off. He doesn’t want anyone calling the cops or the feds—and certainly not Kaiser.”
Jack stared in disbelief. “Why?”
Hogan gestured with his head towards the war-room. “Ask him yourself.”