Page 270 of Silent Target

“With only two exits.”

“Correct.”

“And you think that’s safer?”

“I think the man approaching from the west entrance is carrying a remote detonator.”

I turned.

A security guard walked onto the level.

Blue uniform. Heavy jacket. Baseball cap pulled low over his forehead.

He held one hand near his radio, but his attention wasn’t on the parked cars or the stairwell.

It was on me.

“Is he wearing a security uniform?” Sarilla asked.

“Yes.”

“He isn’t a guard.”

The man raised his head.

A pale scar ran along his jaw.

He’d been driving Vale’s sedan.

I aimed my weapon. “FBI! Show me your hands.”

His right hand lifted.

He held a small black device.

“Run,” Sarilla ordered.

The driver pressed the button.

I threw myself behind a concrete support column.

My SUV exploded.

Heat slammed into me. Glass burst across the garage as the blast lifted the vehicle and hurled it sideways. I hit the ground hard enough to lose my breath.

The phone skidded from my hand.

Fire rolled across the ceiling.

The man in the security uniform advanced through the smoke.

I reached for my weapon.

My holster was empty.

The pistol lay beneath the burning wreckage of another car.

The man drew his gun.