Page 30 of Nothing to Fear

“Hit the button for the elevator.” He darted down the hallway without waiting for her to acknowledge him and unhooked a fire extinguisher from the wall.

She did as he asked, her breath backing up in her lungs.

Coming up beside her, he stuffed the red cylinder inside a huge tan backpack.

“What are we doing?” she asked, trying to keep from spiraling into a tizzy.

The heavy doors opened, and they dashed inside.

He slapped L for the lobby and tossed her his car keys and her purse. “If security stops us, use me as cover. Stay behind me. Run to the car.”

Her queasy belly pitched and rolled. She fastened her gaze to the lit numbers on the elevator display. “What are you talking about? Cover from what?”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw him pull off his shirt and strap on a bulletproof vest. The realization was a slap in the face. A bulletproof vest meant he expected gunfire.

Did she need a vest? “Who’s going to shoot at us?”

He threw his shirt back on. “The sniper hidden in the lobby. Possibly.”

Oh my God. Oh my God. She’d heard rumors about the last-resort security measure but hadn’t believed it. Sometimes people said things to mess with her, but this was no joke.

Her gaze fixed to the illuminated five on the elevator panel. “How possible? What are the odds we’ll get shot at?”

“Sixty-forty. In our favor.”

“Forty percent chance of getting shot at by snipers?” Was he serious?

The unmistakable harsh click of a gun chambering a round echoed inside the elevator and Willow’s chest. The situation was getting worse by the second, and Gideon hadn’t explained anything.

“What’s happening?” she asked, watching the numbers on the display change from four to three. Bile burned up her throat.

He pulled two fire extinguishers from his pack and shoved both into her arms. “They think you’re the mole.”

She gasped, recoiling from the ludicrous idea. Ludicrous and horrifying.

“They found an offshore account with a million bucks. Had your name on it.”

It was like the floor dropped from under her. She shook her head, fingers tightening around the steel canisters. Impossible. There had to be a mistake.

Two lit up on the panel. Her saliva dried up completely and she couldn’t swallow.

Wrapping duct tape around both red cylinders, binding them together, he said, “I know you’re innocent. No time to discuss it. We need to get out of the building. When those doors open, go to the car. Do. Not. Stop.”

They passed the first sublevel. He stuffed the extinguishers into the deep bag, leaving the flap on top open, then took the strap of her purse and slipped it over her head across her body.

L illuminated and the elevator pinged. The steel doors slid open. Nausea rippled through her, and she feared she’d puke.

He ushered her into the lobby, his bag on his shoulder. “If we get separated, don’t go home. Stay away from family, anything familiar.”

Separated. Where was she supposed to go? Familiarity and family were the glue holding together her carefully orchestrated life.

She floated through the lobby, unable to process how her legs were moving. Nothing seemed real. Not Gideon at her side, not his locked and loaded weapon, not the allegation she was the mole. And certainly not a sniper hidden in the lobby. The ballooning lump in her throat threatened to choke her.

Her heart drummed, her whole body growing weaker with each step. Gripping the car keys in a fist, metal digging into her palms, the fingers of her other hand tapped wildly on her purse as she strained to focus on breathing and walking.

The phone at the security desk rang. One of the guards picked up the receiver. “Topside.”

“Hurry,” Gideon whispered. “Our odds just dropped. Thirty-seventy. Against us.”