Page 162 of Chameleon Killer

Instead, we’d been listening to whatever the unsub wanted us to think Mallory had said. That meant whatever eyes we had at all were not to be trusted.

“Sir?” another agent said. “We have too much interference.”

“Can you confirm the unsub or McBryan at all?”

I was crossing the street with Carter right behind me. The mistake was mine. He’d set us up.

All of us.

“Where’s the entry team?” I demanded.

“Thirty seconds out.”

“Make it fifteen.”

Carter caught up to me at the entrance. “Where did we lose thermal?”

“We didn’t lose it.” I swiped a card through the digital lock to open it. After identifying where they were going, I’d gotten a key made. Our tech guys could do just about everything—except catch this snafu before it happened.

He grabbed the door before it could swing closed behind me. “They just said there was too much interference.”

“Exactly.” I didn’t have time to explain this.

“That’s not an answer.” Who was he more pissed at? Me or himself? I was definitely more angry with him for letting Mallory do this in the first place.

“No, it’s the problem,” I told him. The lobby remained mostly dark and empty. There were a few construction lights illuminating the security desk and the plastic sheeting beyond it.

Renovations had been stalled here for a while and there were still areas that didn’t have access to permanent power. It was one of the reasons the location bothered me. Too many independent systems and too many ways to access or control them. Nothing centrally located.

I crossed directly to the elevators and punched the call button.

Nothing happened.

Again.

Nothing.

It didn’t even light up.

“Fuck.” Irritation scraped me raw inside. But Carter was already moving toward the stairwell. I shifted to intercept and grabbed his arm. “Wait for the team.”

“Let. Go.” He looked at my hand and then at me.”

I did. Not because he’d ordered it in that cold, hostile tone but because there were three armored black SUVs pulling to the curb outside.

Agents spilled onto the sidewalk before the vehicles fully stopped. Ruiz was with them, headset still in place and a tablet tucked beneath one arm.

“Elevators are locked,” I told him even as he cleared the doors.

“We didn't do that.”

“I know.” That was becoming the answer to too many questions.

Special Agent Foster took over the tactical deployment without needing direction from me. Four agents headed for the rear access. Two more remained in the lobby. Another pair would hold the stairwell below us once we began moving.

Carter started toward the stairs again.

Foster blocked him. “You stay here.”