trained on the button that meant the difference between life and death.
Something like surprise swept over Adam’s features as he faced whatever realization he came to. His lips parted as if he’d received a revelation.
The footsteps were upon them now. She watched in horror as he paused his thumb above the button. Thomas’s crying mingled with the loud thumping of her heart and the voice that shouted for Adam to drop his weapon.
Adam gave her a little smile. He opened his palm and released the detonator, projecting it her way through the air. She lifted her hand in reflex and caught the device in mid-air. She didn’t dare breathe. She didn’t move, taking care not to close her palm around the button. Adam spun around to face his fate. Two shots went off. Adam fell to his knees, exposing his opponent. Richardson. Gideon clutched his stomach, blood pumping through his fingers. Her breath came in gulps as she stared at the two men. Adam had fallen face-down. He wasn’t moving. Richardson slowly sank to his knees. Men moved into the room around them, guns trained everywhere. She still held the detonator in the air. As life pumped back into her limbs, she realized the weapons were meant for her.
“Don’t shoot.” Richardson coughed. “She’s the victim.”
A man reached for her. “It’s all right. Give it to me.”
She looked from the detonator in her hand to the man facing her.
“We’re FBI,” he said. “We’re here to help you.”
“Stay away from me or I’ll blow the building,” she said in a calm voice.
She didn’t know who to trust any longer.
Richardson laughed, but his effort turned into a gargle. He forced the words from his lips. “Always feisty.”
“I’m going to step outside,” she said, “and you’re letting me go.” Nobody moved as she went for the door. “Help him,” she said, motioning at Richardson.
He shook his head. “I’m dead. You won.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want—”
“Go,” Richardson said, falling onto his side.
“Help him,” Kat said again.
She glanced over her shoulder to ensure the hallway was clear, and stepped into it. When she looked back at Richardson, his body had gone very still. Thomas was crying louder, the sound deafening.
“You,” she said to the man closest to Richardson, “move the change table.”
The man gave her a puzzled look.
“Do it,” she said.
He stepped over Richardson, and put his shoulder to the table to push it aside.
“Pick up the book and leave it on the floor, here.” She pointed a few meters away from her.
When the man had done as she’d asked, she said, “Get back, all of you.”
She waved the detonator until the men followed her command. Going down on her haunches with Thomas carefully balanced in one arm, she kept her eyes trained on them while snatching the book. She straightened with the book in one hand and the detonator in the other, making sure not to drop her baby.
“Stay where you are.” She held the detonator in the air as she made her way down the hallway, praying she’d find an exit.
“We’re not here to harm you,” another man said.
She ignored him and continued her retreat until she reached the door at the end of the hallway. The lock was broken. She kicked the door open. At least five men stood at the exit, pointing their weapons in her face.
“Don’t shoot!” the man from down the hallway shouted. “She’s got a detonator. If it hits the ground, the whole building will blow.”
The men stepped aside and let her into the night. Freedom.
“Go back inside and stay there,” she said.
“Lady,” one of them said, “I know you’re frightened, but we can help you.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know who to trust anymore.”
“Do what she says,” the voice called from inside.
The men filed into the building, their faces tight. She did a quick scan of the area. There could be more of them hiding out, but it was a chance she had to take. She didn’t know where to run. It didn’t matter, as long as she could get away. She threw herself into the darkness, painfully aware that Thomas’s wailing was giving away her escape route. There was no time to stop and soothe him. She had to get away first, far enough, and find some place to hide.
The heat was intolerable. Sweat trickled down her spine. The onslaught of it was almost too much, but she forced her body forward, over a lawn, faintly aware of branches scratching her legs