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He put years of army training into his voice, making it clear it wasn’t a request. It was a do-or-die order. Literally.
Slowly. Hesitantly. Her foot slid to the left.
He almost let out a sigh of relief, but they weren’t out of danger yet. “Keep those toes against the wall. Reach for the corner. Hold on to it and keep your body tight against it as you turn.”
Shivers racked her body, and he feared shock had set in. Another tear escaped to run down her cheek. She was breaking him in two with her courage in the face of overwhelming fear.
“I will never forgive you for making me do this.” Her fingers gripped the corner of the wall, and she inched toward it.
“I’ll add it to the list of things you’re holding a grudge over.” He followed close, letting her feel his heat. Reassuring her with his size. His strength. His brutal determination that they make it through this alive.
A helicopter whirled and hovered outside the signal-jamming radius, its powerful beams of light scanning the building. It was either the press or Enforcement. Neither was good news for Mace.
“Somebody’s watching us,” she said.
Not yet they weren’t, but it was only a matter of time before they were spotted.
“Ignore it,” Mace ordered. “Focus on what you need to do and turn that corner. We’re nearly there. Another step, baby. Take it now so I can stand beside you. My arm doesn’t bend this way naturally.”
“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this,” she chanted in barely a whisper.
“Yes. You can.” And he’d never been prouder of anyone in his life. She was terrified and still going on. It was more than some of his military teammates had been able to do.
She slid over another step, and he pressed his back to the sharp edge of the building as he followed her around. A light beam slid over them, wavering in the night as the helicopter shifted. They had to get inside before the camera found them—otherwise his face would be splashed over every newsfeed on the planet. He was a stranger, an unknown entity, out on a ledge with the press secretary of the most powerful governing company on the planet. Of course they’d want to investigate him.
Way to go undercover.
Looking past Keiko, he spotted the window they were aiming for, exactly where the floor plan said it would be. “We’re nearly there. Five more steps until we’re past the window. We need to go past it so that I can hold you and break it with my other arm. Then I’ll lift you inside. We can do this. But we need to do it now. If that chopper has an onboard camera, our whereabouts will make the news. We might as well have an arrow over our heads telling Freedom where you are.” Because he had no doubt that the terrorists were monitoring the media coverage over the comm channels they’d left free for their use.
He watched Keiko take another small step to the left as a telltale itch rippled across his shoulder blades. It was a sensation he’d become used to over the past three years, one that told him their time was running out—in more ways than one.
“Nearly there,” he said to Keiko. “Just three more steps and we’ll smash that glass.”
A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he felt a familiar tingling under his skin, as though something was trying to break out. The muscles on his back tightened as he fought the sensation, his body working to keep his secret contained. This was the worst time to let it out. His breathing became shallow. Two steps. Just two steps to the window. A beam of light slid over them again as the chopper searched for a focus. He held his breath until the light passed. Keiko stepped past the window, and he followed, feeling the frame against his back.
One more step and he was on other side of the window. He held on to Keiko, his hand still wound tight in her dress, as she trembled, still chanting encouragement to herself. Mace didn’t hesitate. He lifted his free arm and rammed his elbow into the glass. It took three bruising blows to shatter it.
“Mace?” Her voice broke, signaling she was at the end of her resources.
“Nearly there. The window’s gone. Now we can get you inside.”
The helicopter light returned and danced across the building near them. Mace knocked out as much glass as possible using his elbow before he tugged the pillow covers from his waist and laid them over the sharp edges of the frame.
“I’m going to put my arm around you. I’ll hold on to the window ledge to keep us both anchored, and then I’ll lift you past me and into the building.”
He gripped the inside of the window, his hand cushioned by the covers, and held on tight, hoping the glass hadn’t poked through the cloth to slice his hand into pieces. He wouldn’t know if it did; there was so much adrenaline in his system that pain meant nothing. He only hoped he wasn’t bleeding. He couldn’t leave DNA evidence behind.
“You’re going to what?” Keiko’s voice was a high-pitched squeal. “You’re going to lift me? Over you? Away from the building? Away from the ledge? You’re going to dangle me out over nothing?”
“Breathe, Keiko,” he snapped. “Freak out later. You know I won’t let you fall. I have a good grip on the window, and I’ll have a good grip on you, too.” He uncurled his hand from the back of her dress.
“No,” she screeched.
He smacked his hand back onto her body to hold her in place. “Stop it. The hardest part is over. We do this one thing, and then we’re done.”
He felt her fight to control her breathing. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shattering his cold, hard heart. “I’ll try harder.”
“It’s going to be okay,” was all he could manage to say in return. It was a pitiful response to her courage.
