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“Fuck me,” he says.
“What is it?”
“No cameras on the top floor. Exactly what we need to see, and we can’t even get a full layout of the space.”
“I thought you’ve been up there.”
“Just to deliver packages. They didn’t offer me a guided tour.”
He checks through the other screens. There’s no one on any of the other floors. Just the bodies of the guards we already took out. He checks the stairwell feed. Nothing there.
He switches to the main elevator feed. Three guards are coming down.
I wonder if they’ve already seen the bomb and guards on thirteen.
He pushes a few buttons, erases the footage, and turns off the recording.
“Brian?” I say. I really want to run right now. We didn’t plan for this, and I know I’m not trained well enough, as he’s reminded me a thousand times. And I’d really kind of like to not die right now.
Brian seems torn. I know he’s thinking about all the evidence, all we stand to lose if we cut and run now.
10
BRIAN
We can’t leave these bodies and all the fingerprints. The bomb. Bullets. We have to finish this, but I have no idea how many are upstairs, and I can’t risk her. If I lost Mina… NO. I won’t lose her over this stupid fucking night and her goddamned empathy.
I grab her hand and we run from the security office toward the front door. I can feel her relief in my choice, but I know she’s thinking about that boy.
The elevator doors open on the ground level before we can make our escape, and the three armed guards step out into the lobby. I spin around and shoot the first one that’s coming right for me. Blood spurts from the center of his throat as he goes down with a groan. Mina takes out the guy flanking him on the left with two shots. I hear her magazine drop and another slammed into the mag well. Good girl.
By now the third one is closing in on me, I throw a swift targeted kick that has the gun flying out of his hand before he can fire. The weapon skitters across the shiny marble floor.
Where did they get these guys? Are they rent-a-cops? It’s clear they aren’t used to dealing with people who know how to fight for real. Maybe armed enemies, but not anyone truly trained.
I jab a sharp elbow into his throat, and then when he bends over coughing, I deliver two bullets directly into the back of his head.
The emergency stairwell door creaks, and right on cue, three more guards file out. I huff in frustration but pull out another gun and rapid fire taking the first two out, but the third gets off a shot that narrowly misses my shoulder.
Motherfucker.
I’m close enough by now that I shoot him intentionally in the kneecap instead of going for the kill. He drops the gun and screams like a little girl. I holster my gun, grab him by the throat, and slam him against the wall, cracking a left hook into his jaw.
I drop him, letting him slide to the ground. I look up to find Mina has her gun trained on him. I smile. We’re a good team.
“Don’t shoot him. We aren’t done with this one,” I say.
I change out my own magazine and holster my weapon. I collect the guns, eject magazines, and clear chambers. Last thing I need is this doofus crawling over for a dropped weapon.
The elevator dings again, and this time only two come out.
Mina and I are both ready. We turn in unison, both shooting at the same time. I drop mine easily, but she gets hers in the shoulder.
“No!” I say when she starts to aim for him again. I’ve got an idea. I rush the wounded one before he can grab his gun, and pull him out of the elevator. I throw a couple of hard punches to knock him out.
Then I scan our surroundings for something to keep the elevator door open.
“Mina, stand here in the door.”
