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He and Boyd unzip the black satchels, start removing timed thermite charges—black plastic cases about the size of a paperback book—and go down the line of computer servers, placing each charge in a strategic location. When the timers later click to zero, the temperature in this large concrete room will approach that of the surface of the sun, and Liam wants to be as far away as possible when that happens.
“Looks good,” Boyd says.
“Got that.”
He takes the lead up the corridor, thinking through the next steps and he abruptly holds up his hand.
Boyd stops.
Doesn’t say anything but raises an eyebrow.
In a soft voice, Liam says, “Heard something. From that door.”
Boyd steps forward, pistol in hand.
The door has a sign in blue, showing a stick figure of a woman and the English letters WC.Water closet.
And the Cyrillic letters fortoilet.
Boyd nods to Liam and he nods back.
Liam grabs the door, spins the knob, hurls it open.
A cry from inside.
A young blond woman, wearing a dark-green uniform shirt and black skirt, sitting on the dirty tan tile floor, hunched up against a toilet, weeping, hands held up.
“Shit,” Liam says.
CHAPTER 16
BOYD SAYS, “WHAT the hell are we going to do, Liam?”
Liam doesn’t reply.
Running out of time.
Take her prisoner?
Take her out of the building and release her later?
Or …
“Liam?” Boyd again says, urgently.
The young woman moves quickly, dropping her right arm, going behind her back, emerging with a small pistol.
Liam shoots her twice in the chest.
“Damn,” Boyd whispers.
“Back to work,” Liam says.
He closes the bathroom door.
Resumes his fast walk to the lobby, where the other four team members are placing hard drives, thumb drives, and collected documents into the hard plastic storage containers, snapping the covers shut.
“Heard two shots back there,” Tommy Pulaski says.
