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He takes out his phone and opens a text. Taps in a few words and shows it to me.
“No cameras up here. I couldn’t pick the lock until Harlan left the building.”
The groaning sound comes again. It definitely sounds like a person, and it sounds like they might be in pain. God, if this turns out to be the reason I had to be here today, this groaning guy better be the second coming of Christ, or at least the next Mother Theresa.
Victor moves ahead of me and takes something from his ankle.
A gun. He has a firearm. Well, that’s encouraging for making sure we get out of here, I guess.
I follow him up the stairs, keeping close to the wall like he is and looking ahead for any signs of the groaning man. We don’t find him until we’re approaching the door to the nineteenth floor.
He’s crumpled up on the stairs, but he tries to get up when he sees us coming, before he falls back down on his ass and groans some more. He looks like a typical yuppie businessman in an expensive suit.
“What are you doing?” Victor asks, holding his hand out for me to stay behind him when he steps forward, pistol trained on the guy.
“My chest …” the guy wheezes, clutching his left arm.
His gaze goes from unfocused to sharp in a second as he whips his leg out to trip Victor up.
I grab Victor’s arm and yank him back as the guy who tried to fake a heart attack rises to his feet and puts his hand inside his jacket.
My heart stops in that second.
The look on the guy’s face is pure venomous evil.
For a very long moment, I’m sure I’m about to die.
Then, Victor pistol-whips him in the head, and he crashes to the ground.
I gasp in a breath as Victor puts his gun back in its ankle holster.
He grabs a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and cuffs the guy’s hands behind his back.
“Seems like Harlan expected something,” he tells me. “You still want to check his office?”
“We’ve come all this way,” I tell him. “Just, get ready to use your gun again.”
He nods. “We need to bring this idiot with us, so we can use him like a shield.”
“I have no reservations about that.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He lifts the guy over his shoulder and leads the way up the last set of stairs.
I get to hold his gun at the top, keeping it trained on our unconscious hostage while he picks the lock that leads into Harlan’s office. My fingers are shaky around the handle, but I know if I have to use it, I’ll make sure I don’t miss.
When the lock clicks open, Victor uses his foot to keep it from closing.
He shows me the camera feed of the office on his phone.
He might not have been able to get a camera into the stairwell before Harlan left, but he was able to bring his cleaning cart up here and plant a camera while he dusted the walls.
The camera is to the right of Harlan’s desk. It shows a good section of the room, and it’s empty.
We can’t see the other side, or the bathroom, but I don’t think anyone’s in there.
I offer Victor the gun back. He shakes his head, and he lowers himself down to drag the unconscious guy’s body over to where he is. Right. Yeah. We’re using this guy like a shield.
