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That doesn’t track. Vlad has attached my resume to this meeting, as well as links to my app’s code. I’d hope those aren’t critical for any relationship we might or might not have.
Then it hits me.
He’s getting me a job.
Leaping out of his chair, I sprint out of the building and jump into a cab.
Time to face 1000 Devils.
Chapter Thirty-Two
I step out of the elevator furtively.
Nope.
No one shoots me.
At least not yet.
Sprinting for the Nerf gun armory, I get myself a proper arsenal: two handguns that I stuff into my waistband and a two-handed machine-gun contraption.
If I’m going to work at this place—and I don’t know if I am—I’ll have to fit in with their quirky culture.
If that means shooting my way to Vlad, so be it.
Clutching my Nerf machine gun, I exit the room and creep onto the main floor.
An orange projectile is hurtling at my face, but I sidestep and it whooshes by my ear.
“Nice one,” someone says.
I spin around and put a bullet in the chest of a redhead with a beer belly. I vaguely remember him from my last visit.
Someone jumps out of the cube on the right.
I dodge her shot, then shoot her in the boob.
Another person leaps out of a cube.
I lunge behind a column, avoiding the projectile.
Peeking out to take aim, I kneecap the last assailant.
A bunch of darts hits the column.
I stick my head out, spot an older lady unloading her gun in my direction, and shoot her in the arm.
Another round of darts misses me.
I peek once more.
A guy with a buzzcut is reloading.
I shoot his neck, then sprint for the column near the large meeting room.
Through the glass, I see Vlad and Alex speaking animatedly, but they don’t notice me.
Which is fine.
