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“Oh, wow, can I see that?” she asked, and plucked it out of his hands. He blinked, startled, and in the next second she’d reached under her coat, drawn her sidearm, and pressed the barrel under his chin. “Back up three steps, please. ”
He did it, surprise derailing anything else, and in three steps they were in an alcove safely hidden from the other security people. “Condition Diamond, do you hear me?” Bryn asked, and saw his eyes widen. An eerie relaxation came over his body. “Okay, I need you to take this radio, get on the air, and broadcast an alert that you received a threatening phone call. There’s a bomb in the building. The building must be evacuated. Do you understand me? I need you to say it and believe it. I’m depending on you to save all these people. Tell me you understand. ”
“Condition Diamond acknowledged,” he said. “Broadcast radio alert that there is a bomb in the building, and evacuation must proceed. Protocol priorities state that executives must evacuate first. ”
“Perfect,” Bryn said. “After you’ve broadcast the alert, call Irene Harte’s people and tell her that her car is waiting at the front door. Questions?”
His eyes focused on hers, perfectly untroubled, but she knew that deep inside he’d be screaming. She’d felt this. She knew how … unclean it was. “Where’s the bomb?”
“Basement,” she said. That would take the maximum amount of time; typically, it was a maze of machinery and locked rooms. “Start now. ”
She stepped back and took the gun away from his chin. If the protocol was going to fail, it would do it now, in spectacular Technicolor; he could have been faking it, waiting for his chance.
Instead, he just looked at her and said, “I need my radio, ma’am. ”
She handed it over.
“This is Ledbetter at the entrance. I have a Level One bomb threat. Device is located in the basement. Initiate immediate evac of executive personnel. ” He met Bryn’s eyes as he said, “Ms. Harte has a private car at the front—get her out here now. ”
He clicked off. Bryn nodded and holstered her weapon. “Mr. Ledbetter, I want you to join the others now and lead them in a search for the bomb. Do you understand?”
“Yes. In the basement. ” He hesitated. “Is this related to the two men we have pinned down?”
Bryn felt her whole body flush with adrenaline. “Pinned down where?”
“The hallway on the left,” he said. “Ballroom. ”
“Go!”
Ledbetter raced off, looking as committed as if he really believed in the bomb … which she supposed he did, in a certain sense that was beyond his control. Bryn shuddered. The protocols might create kamikaze bombers and suicidal terrorists, but they weren’t likely to produce any brilliant military strategists.
Ledbetter’s radio message had poked a stick into the hornet’s nest, and people boiled out of the building. Bryn stopped another security man and commandeered his radio as he raced toward the basement, and waited next to the glass doors. Executives arrived in neat tailored suits and expensive shoes, surrounded by assistants and armed escorts; she recognized one as the first man she’d seen converted to Pharmadene’s new corporate loyalty program.
He recognized her, too, and his eyes widened. “You,” he said, and broke free of his guards to come toward her. “You were there. Across the hall. ”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you,” Bryn said. She meant it. But the man just smiled.
“No need to be sorry. Best thing that ever happened to me, or to the company. First time in years we’re all in agreement on what needs to be done around here. ” He glanced down at her badge, then back up at her face, a frown grooving his brow. “You’re not Irene Harte. ”
“Ms. Harte gave me her badge to get me into security,” she said. “I’m her driver. ”
He wasn’t buying it, and as an executive, he would have knowledge and power to invoke Diamond protocol. He could bury her in bodies in seconds.
The radio suddenly rattled with static in her hand, and Ledbetter’s voice came over it to say, “This is a Level One alert. All executives need to be out of the building now! We have a credible bomb threat!”
The man’s security team grabbed her problem executive by the arms and hustled him out. She heard him saying, “But I don’t think she’s got the right badge…. ” They weren’t listening.
Diamond Condition. She was starting to love it.
Except that in the next five minutes, she saw dozens of executives flee the building, and not one of them was Irene Harte.
She used the radio. “I need a twenty on Ms. Harte. I repeat, there is no sign of Ms. Harte in the evacuation. Where is she?”
A female voice answered, calm and brisk. “Who is this?”
“Her driver. ”
The voice turned cold. “I’m her driver. ”
