emotional reaction to the thought of Brett’s death and a physical reaction to the thickening smoke.
By the time she reached the fourth-floor landing, the smoke was thicker than ever. Her eyes and throat burned, her breath wheezed in and out, periodic bouts of nausea swept through her. Too bad she hadn’t grabbed the damp cloth as she fled the truck. But then she hadn’t expected to be forced back into the burning building.
A hazy curtain of gray obstructed her view as she stepped into the hall. She squinted, trying to see through her dry, irritated eyes.
The room Tag had booked was the first on the right, easy access from the stairs. It had to be close. She glided her fingers along the wall and half a dozen steps later felt the indentation of a door. A murky 4001 came into view. They were here. She lifted the keycard, only to pause.
Maybe she should make a break for it now. Take off down the hall. The smoke was so thick Mitch might not get a clear shot. If she could take him by surprise, get enough of a lead—
Something hard dug into her spine.
“Don’t bother.” Mitch coughed the words out, his voice rough and raspy. “At this range I won’t miss. I’ll get Sean’s stuff with or without you.”
Okay, so why didn’t he just kill her then? Why bother to keep her alive?
The answer came instantly. He needed her as a hostage. Or maybe a trade. If he didn’t find what he was looking for—and he wouldn’t, since Devlin had it—he could trade her for it.
She ran through Tag’s self-defense lessons. There had to be something she could do to free herself. But before she could make a move, the pressure against her back vanished.
If he’d stepped back far enough to evade her feet, knees, and elbows, the only thing attacking him would accomplish was getting herself shot. She needed to be smart about this. Move when she had the advantage. There had to be more options in the room. Something she could use as a weapon. The ice bucket or a pen.
“…think smart…move when you have the advantage…” Brett’s instructions whispered through her mind.
She blinked rapidly, trying to lubricate her burning eyes, and tapped the electronic pad with the card. When the faint snick sounded, she pushed the door open. Blessed, mostly smoke free air rushed out to greet her starving lungs. A hard shove from behind sent her lurching into the room and the door slammed shut behind her.
Too late to thrust him out the door and lock it behind him.
A second hard shove sent her stumbling farther into the room. Sean’s possessions were sprawled halfway up the queen bed closest to them. Another push from behind drove her toward them.
“Put everything back in the bag. And get a move on it,” Mitch said, his voice a hoarse rasp. He paused to cough. “Hell, I could have gotten by with half the smoke bombs.”
So that’s how he’d engineered the smoke. He must have set a couple off on every floor.
Sarah staggered up the narrow aisle between the two beds. His last thrust had pushed her past the microwave with the ice bucket sitting on top. And the pen was across the room, on the desk by the window. Out of reach.
Once she packed up Sean’s stuff, she’d throw the bag of clothes at him. Maybe that would distract him enough for her to scramble across the bed and grab the ice bucket. She could hit him with it. Right now, that looked like her best option.
“Get a move on it,” Mitch rasped, in a rough, grating voice as she neared the bed.
A spasm of coughing tried to rip her lungs loose and launch them up her throat. Lightheaded and dizzy, she leaned across the bed to grab the paper bag. She tucked the red sneakers inside first. The jeans, which were already folded, went in next. Then his shirt. The leather jacket though. That was going to be tricky. She needed to make sure the back, with it’s ripped out—
Her thoughts squealed to a stop.
The manicure scissors. She hadn’t put them away. She’d tossed them down on the bed before working the memory card loose. They had to still be there somewhere, probably under the jacket.
While they were small, not much of a weapon, they were the best possibility she had. If she aimed for an artery or for one of his eyes, she might do enough damage to