“Brian?” I say. I really want to run right now. We didn’t plan for this, and I know I’m not trained well enough, as he’s reminded me a thousand times. And I’d really kind of like to not die right now.
Brian seems torn. I know he’s thinking about all the evidence, all we stand to lose if we cut and run now.
NINETEEN
brian
We can’t leavethese bodies and all the fingerprints. The bomb. Bullets. We have to finish this, but I have no idea how many are upstairs, and I can’t risk her. If I lost Mina… NO. I won’t lose her over this stupid fucking night and her goddamned empathy.
I grab her hand and we run from the security office toward the front door. I can feel her relief in my choice, but I know she’s thinking about that boy.
The elevator doors open on the ground level before we can make our escape, and the three armed guards step out into the lobby. I spin around and shoot the first one that’s coming right for me. Blood spurts from the center of his throat as he goes down with a groan. Mina takes out the guy flanking him on the left with two shots. I hear her magazine drop and another slammed into the mag well. Good girl.
By now the third one is closing in on me, I throw a swift targeted kick that has the gun flying out of his hand before he can fire. The weapon skitters across the shiny marble floor.
Where did they get these guys? Are they rent-a-cops? It’s clear they aren’t used to dealing with people who know howto fight for real. Maybe armed enemies, but not anyone truly trained.
I jab a sharp elbow into his throat, and then when he bends over coughing, I deliver two bullets directly into the back of his head.
The emergency stairwell door creaks, and right on cue, three more guards file out. I huff in frustration but pull out another gun and rapid fire taking the first two out, but the third gets off a shot that narrowly misses my shoulder.
Motherfucker.
I’m close enough by now that I shoot him intentionally in the kneecap instead of going for the kill. He drops the gun and screams like a little girl. I holster my gun, grab him by the throat, and slam him against the wall, cracking a left hook into his jaw.
I drop him, letting him slide to the ground. I look up to find Mina has her gun trained on him. I smile. We’re a good team.
“Don’t shoot him. We aren’t done with this one,” I say.
I change out my own magazine and holster my weapon. I collect the guns, eject magazines, and clear chambers. Last thing I need is this doofus crawling over for a dropped weapon.
The elevator dings again, and this time only two come out.
Mina and I are both ready. We turn in unison, both shooting at the same time. I drop mine easily, but she gets hers in the shoulder.
“No!” I say when she starts to aim for him again. I’ve got an idea. I rush the wounded one before he can grab his gun, and pull him out of the elevator. I throw a couple of hard punches to knock him out.
Then I scan our surroundings for something to keep the elevator door open.
“Mina, stand here in the door.”
She moves to stand in the elevator doorway to keep it from closing.
There’s a large potted fern just by the entryway. I drop Shoulder Injury on top of Kneecap and go for it. I drag the plant across the floor and use it to jam the elevator so no one else can sneak up on us like this.
I drag the bodies of the dead guards one-by-one over to the emergency stairwell exit, but before I can get it blocked, the door opens. I don’t let them all get out. I shoot the first one and then shove him back against whoever is behind him. I hear grunts as bodies fall under the weight of their comrade.
Before the other two can get out from under him, I put bullets in brains.
I return to the lobby and finish moving the other bodies in front of the door.
Satisfied that this has bought us at least a few minutes, I grab Shoulder Injury under the arms. He groans as I relocate him to the security office.
“Watch that one,” I say to Mina, angling my head toward the guard I shot in the kneecap. “Shoot him again if he moves, but don’t kill him.”
She nods and holds her gun on him while I take Shoulder Injury back into the guard booth. I drop him in one of the chairs just as he starts to come around so I punch him again. He slumps, and I dig through the desk drawers until I find what I’m looking for: zip ties. I’ve yet to find a security office without them.
I bind the guard’s wrists and ankles with the plastic ties and let out a breath. Fuck my life. I can understand how the first few reached us. And after hearing what “might have been” gunfire, or a missing guard from upstairs not returning, they would have sent others to investigate.
