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She slid her feet to the left.
“Only three more steps until the corner. And then maybe another five until we hit the window. Tell me something else you plan on doing after this is all over.”
“Other than kiss the ground?”
He actually chuckled. “Other than that.”
“French cooking lessons,” she found herself saying.
Mace pressed his hand to her back, keeping her flush against the wall and firmly on the ledge. “Never had any interest in cooking. I make one thing—chili. One more step to the corner. Is that your whole list?” He looked past her. “You can reach out and hold the corner now.”
She made the mistake of turning her head, very slowly and carefully, to see what he meant. All she saw was the black, empty night and lights blinking far, far beneath them. They were so high up. With nothing between them and the ground but air. A wave of pure, unadulterated terror rushed through her, and suddenly it felt like the ledge beneath her feet was made of shifting sand. Her toes curled into it, trying to keep her in place, but it didn’t make any difference. It still felt like it was moving, ready to toss her off and into the night.
“There’s nothing there.” She fought to get the words past her tightening throat. “I’m going to die. I’m going to step out into nothing. Because. There. Is. Nothing. There.”
Her voice had faded to a strained whisper. Small whimpering noises escaped her as her red fingernails scratched at the wall, desperate for purchase. If she’d been thinking straight, her behavior would have embarrassed her. As it was, all she could think about was the nothingness in front of her. In the back of her mind, a calm realization settled, and she knew she was about ten seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. One that would take them both over the edge, straight to their deaths, but there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.
“You’re safe,” Mace said over the frenzied screaming in her head. “I’ve got you. You won’t fall.” His even voice sounded like it was coming from very far away.
Her eyes scrunched shut, and her lips were a hairsbreadth from the wall, and her chant changed. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”
The words drowned out everything else. Everything except the sure knowledge that the ledge was going to slip out from under her and she was going to die.
…
She was losing it. And Mace couldn’t allow that to happen.
“Stop it.” He barked the order, the same way his old commander had done back in his army days. “Stop it right fucking now.”
The chanting stopped, but the shaking remained. He felt it under his hand as he held her pressed against the wall. She vibrated with fear. It had burrowed into her mind, threading its way through every part of it, insidiously, like a worm in the earth. If he didn’t get her attention on him rather than on her fear, she would run off the ledge to get away from her demons. He’d seen it before. Watched good men panic and run into gunfire instead of away from it. He had to snap her out of it. And fast.
“Look at me, Keiko Sato. Get your eyes on me. Now!”
Slowly, she turned her head slightly and cracked open her eyelids. The terror he saw in her eyes almost stole his breath, but he couldn’t soften. He couldn’t comfort her. That wasn’t what she needed.
Instead, he frowned. “You are going to get us both killed.” He kept his tone sharp. Forcing her to focus on his command rather than on the danger. “Now, hold on to the corner and slide around on the ledge. Do it slow. I’ll come with you.”
Her only response was a slight shake of her head.
“Fuck it, Keiko. Take the fucking step.”
Her shoulders jerked slightly. “Don’t curse.” Her whispered words were like mann
a from heaven.
“Take the fucking step. Or I swear, I’ll lift you and carry you around the corner.” And if she struggled in any way, they would both die. It wasn’t his best plan. But, hell, they were stuck on the ledge. There were gunmen inside looking for them. Helicopters hovered on the perimeter Enforcement had established, trying to get close enough to film something interesting. On top of that, they didn’t have a safety net or a tethering rope or backup of any kind.
“Your language is foul.” Her voice trembled.
“Shout at me once we’re safe inside.”
“What if I step into air?”
“Do as you’re told, and you won’t. Keep your toes against the wall. Slide along. Look at the wall. Take tiny steps. Move slow. I’ll hold you. All you have to do is follow the wall. Turn where it turns. You’ll be fine.”
A single, silent tear rolled down her satin cheek. “I hate this.”
“Don’t think about it.” That tear was a band tightening around his chest. “Just do it. Now.” He curled his fingers into her dress. Holding on to her. Making it clear that he had a grip and would catch her if she fell. “I’ve got you. You aren’t heavy enough to pull me over. Now go.”
