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“Yeah, I’m with you,” I said. Andrew flicked a glance back at me, only now realizing I was talking to someone else as well. I gave him a tight smile. “Keep moving, Andy,” I told him and took twisted pleasure at the angry annoyance that flashed in his eyes at the nickname.
We made it to the stairs without incident, and Philip checked to be sure it was clear before we went in. “It’s too damn quiet,” I said as we started down the ten flights, voice shaking as nerves and stress threatened to get the better of me.
“We’re pulling into the garage now,” Naomi said. “Don’t see any threats yet, but watch yourselves.”
“You know they’ll have the exit covered.” I prodded my hostage in the back with the gun. “You ready to do some fast talking for us, Andy?”
“I want out of this in one piece as much as you do,” he retorted, then blew out a frustrated breath. “Thea Braddock’s out of commission—the one whose elbow Reinhardt broke.” Andrew glanced back at Philip as we clattered down the stairs. “That’s the only reason this way isn’t already blocked.”
I hustled him down as quickly as possible without tripping and going splat. “Great. Wonderful,” I snapped. “I’ll send flowers to her, but right now I want to get the fuck out of here.”
“If he goes right at the bottom, you’re golden,” Naomi said. “If he goes left, it’s a setup.”
“Got it,” I said as we came around the last turn in the steps. “Which way, dude?”
“As soon as we get through the door we go right,” he replied to my relief. “Straight down the corridor to the warehouse and loading dock.” His hand went into his pocket, and I gave him a hard yank on his collar.
“Keep your hands where I can see them!” I ordered, then saw the pad beside the door.
“I’m getting my fob out so I can open the door,” he said through clenched teeth.
Somewhere above a door crashed open, the sound echoing heavily in the stairwell. My heart gave an ugly lurch like a stripper who found out her pole was greased. “Jesus. Hurry!”
He glanced up at the sound, then shot me a black look. Too slowly, he pulled his keys from his pocket and swiped the fob across the panel. The light flashed red.
“It’s not working,” he said. “They must have disabled my fob.”
“Lying sonofabitch,” I hissed. “You didn’t swipe it in the elevator.” I snatched the keys from him and pressed the fob solidly to the panel. The light flashed green, and the latch clicked. I tossed the keys back to Philip. “Try a stunt like that again and I’ll—”
Philip cut off my threat of doom as he moved forward, pushed the door open, and shoved us both through. The door swung shut with a heavy click behind us, and a quick look around told me we were in an industrial grey cinderblock corridor lit by glaring fluorescent lights along the ceiling.
“Keep moving,” Philip said in his I’m-not-fucking-around voice.
“You’re out now,” Andrew protested, his feet planted. “Let me go!”
“We’re not out,” I shot back and gave him a hard push toward the double doors at the end of the corridor about fifty feet away. “What’s next?”
Anger flushed Andrew’s face, but he didn’t fight me. “A small warehouse for goods reception,” he said tightly, gesturing ahead. “Then a door to the parking garage.”
Philip loped ahead toward the doors, pausing only to check that a side corridor was clear of bad guys.
My comm crackled in my ear. “We’re at the dock,” Naomi said. “It’s clear for now, but you need to hurry.”
“We have people behind us,” I told her as I prodded Andrew into a jog. I sure as hell didn’t want to be caught in the corridor when those guys came out of the stairwell. We had zero cover if they started shooting. “Philip’s checking out the doors into the warehouse now. We’ll be out in a sec.”
Philip gave me a nod, pressed the fob to the key pad and opened the door. A moment later we passed through and into a warehouse filled with stacks of crates and boxes. A brightly lit EXIT sign hung over a regular door next to a large rollup bay door on the opposite wall. I herded Andrew onward but stopped halfway there and turned at the sound of ca-chunk ca-chunk ca-chunk ca-chunk behind us.
It was Philip as he pumped the lift handle of a pallet jack loaded with cases marked, “Economy Copy Paper.” He shoved the whole thing toward the double doors we’d come through and, after maneuvering the jack into position, lowered it to set the pallet as a barricade against the doors. “It won’t stop them,” he said as he hurried my way, “but it’ll slow them down.”
I got Andrew moving again. “Good enough,” I said. “All we need is time to get out and into the c
ar.”
When we reached the door, Philip pulled out Andrew’s keys and again pressed the fob on the control panel. As soon as the latch clicked, I shouldered the door open and hustled Andrew out into the chilly air on a loading dock in the underground parking garage. The dock was probably meant for vans and smallish trucks since it was only a short drop from the platform to the pavement, and the garage didn’t look anywhere near roomy enough to handle an eighteen wheeler. To our left a ramp began a sloping descent toward the lower levels of the parking garage and, off to the right, daylight filtered down the incline that led to the street above.
About twenty feet beyond the edge of the dock, Kyle bailed out of the passenger seat of Naomi’s car and opened the back door, ready for us.
Andrew jerked against my grasp. “Now will you let me go?” he asked, jaw clenched.
