All Is Bright - K. Sterling Page 0,43

stormed across the foyer to the elevator then lowered and wrapped the line around his arm and wound it around his waist before he hopped over the side. He fell several feet but the line jerked and Cyril planted his hand and feet on the wall then bounced off of it. He repelled down the shaft and found a crowd waiting at the bottom. Bradley, Sharp and Gabriel were operating blowtorches and the heat at the bottom of the shaft was oppressive. Ivanof, Martinez and Marston hung back against the opposite wall and shielded their faces and watched the foyer. Lavender, Grim, Hawkesworth, Walsh, West and Sloan were still up there with Alon’s men, holding the house. It took all of Cyril’s strength to keep from snarling and snatching a blowtorch from someone.

“Get us in there,” Cyril ordered and rocked because he couldn’t pace in the crowded shaft.

“This should do it,” Alon said and handed his blowtorch to Martinez then put his shoulder against the steel panel. It resisted for just a moment before it swung forward and everyone pressed themselves against the walls of the elevator shaft and listened as the loud bang echoed through the vault. Alon raised his pistol and peeked before he stepped through the hole and Cyril had the 204 aimed and ready as he followed but lowered it as he took in the destruction.

“Oh... God,” he whispered shakily. The air was heavy with smoke and the leather armchairs and sofas in the seating area were in tufts and chunks and bits of paper littered the floor. Rows of bookshelves had toppled like dominoes and the giant chandelier was a shattered disaster on the marble floor. “Farris?” Cyril called weakly as he crept forward. He couldn’t see any sign of Farris and his heart stopped when he spotted bodies by the back doors.

“Cyril?” Farris said as he peeked from behind one of the columns then stepped out with a 17th century German etched halberd. He was shirtless and covered in smudges and scratches but he was in one piece.

“What the hell happened?” Cyril asked but he was laughing as he pushed his weapon at Alon and went to Farris.

“I… Uh...” Farris rested the halberd against the column and spotted it as he backed away. Once he was sure the long battle-ax wouldn’t fall he pushed out a hard breath and ruffled his hair awkwardly as he turned back to the disaster behind him. “I figured they were coming so I took Grim’s potato cannon and set up a position. Up, over there,” he said and waved at the toppled shelves. Cyril blinked at them in horror.

“You set up a potato cannon on top of the bookshelves?” He clarified and Farris nodded.

“I had to jump off when they fired at me and I kind of caused all of that,” he explained with an apologetic wince.

“They fired at you?” Cyril repeated hoarsely and his blood pressure exploded as his face became hot.

“Easy!” Farris ordered and gave his chest a gentle pat. I dumped a vat of emulsion cleaner down the hall and rained thumbtacks on them once they started slipping and sliding,” he said and Marston laughed as he rose on his toes and leaned so he could inspect the damage.

“How did they get unconscious and hogtied?” Martinez asked as he eyed Farris with an obvious newfound respect.

“I did most of that with the potato cannon. I soaked my rags and knotted them. One of those to the head is like taking a line drive without a helmet. I got two of them with one of Elizabeth’s croquet mallets, while they were checking on their buddies,” Farris said and held up his hands. “I wasn’t about to let them break in and take something from us,” he stated.

“Christ, I love you!” Cyril groaned as he pulled Farris into his arms.

“Oh!” Farris yelped as he was kissed but he allowed it and his hands were shaking as they cradled Cyril’s face. “I’m glad you’re ok. Is it over?” He whispered.

“Not yet but it’s about to be,” Cyril said and pressed one last kiss to Farris’s lips before he released him. Alon, Ivnaof, Gabriel and Sharp were studying the ceiling and their fingernails but Marston was staring like an asshole.

“I hope we’re all invited to the wedding,” he said pointedly but Cyril’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek as he counted down from ten.

“Ivanof needs to stay off camera so I want him working on a video