fine. Just scared shitless. Bullet’s in the headrest,” she squeaked, throwing open the door so she could get as far away as possible from the bullet. She stood up, then regretted it because now that the danger was passed, she felt faint.
Get it together, Burton. You have to keep it solid. Breathe, girl.
“Outside perimeter alert’s found nothing, ma’am,” the other guard said. “I’m going to pull in over there.” He pointed to an open area, usually reserved for confidential visitor’s vehicles or other uses. “We’ll get the team down here and get that bullet. Should be able to get someone over here to fix the window for you too.” He glanced at his watch, winced. “Shit. Oh, sorry, ma’am. Probably not today though. Too late.”
“S’okay, I’m feeling pretty much like screaming that very word right now. Oh, hell,” she said, leaning on the car and bending forward to counteract the faintness. “Wow, never come that close before. You know all that stuff they say about your life flashing before your eyes?”
The guard nodded.
“It may not happen right at the moment, but it sure does hit you when you’re done. Whew.”
The younger of the two men took her arm and helped her to the bench by the elevator. “Here, grab a seat. I’ll get your things for you, okay?”
“Thanks,” she managed before easing down onto the bench. The guard followed her car over to the reserved space, and retrieved her briefcase, purse, and files.
“You okay to leave the keys with us?” the younger one said, holding them out. “Or if you need the other keys, you can take the car key off.”
“Oh, sure.” She detached the car key and handed it to him. “Sorry, should have thought of that.” More people were pouring out of the elevators now, including techs and another pair of security guys.
“Wow,” the other guard said, peering at the headrest. He pointed at the passenger-side headrest, set equal with the driver’s side. A large hole showed the path of the bullet from one headrest to the next.
“Long-range rifle,” the older guard asserted. “You said kill shot. I think you were right.” He cocked his head. “No offense, but how the hell did they miss you?”
Ana braced her knees, which had begun to knock again. “Window jammed. I leaned forward and took my foot off the brake. Car rolled forward.”
The man whistled. “Better thank your guardian angel for that one,” he muttered.
“Believe me, I will,” she said. “Thanks for handling this.” She gave him her floor, department, codes, and numbers. It took another twenty minutes for the techs to finish asking questions, but once they had her info, they passed her to go to her office. She was so grateful, she could’ve kissed them.
“Thanks again, guys,” she said, getting her things and calling the elevator.
“Welcome,” one tech said, watching her as she turned away.
She’d blanked out the mutters and discussion of the other people in the garage, as they were debriefed—a quick process since they didn’t know anything—but she was glad none of them were left to ride up with her. All she wanted was to get to her desk, put her head down for a moment. Maybe let the shaking pass. If it would.
The elevator moved like molasses, as it climbed to the fifth floor.
“Please hurry,” she implored, feeling the tears of reaction threatening to burst through the dam she’d built as she answered questions and given her statement. “C’mon, c’mon.” Maybe she should go to the bathroom first. No way she wanted Pretzky or worse yet, that slimeball Davis, to see her crying. “Come ON.”
Unfortunately, the doors opened on chaos.
“Burton!” Pretzky shouted her name, before Ana could take in the scene. “Get over here. You’re a computer whiz, figure out what the hell’s going on here, damn it.”
Ana took a staggering step off the elevator, feeling like her head was going to explode. Shot at, then this, with no time to recover? What the hell had she opened up with this case?
“What’s wrong with you, woman?” Pretzky demanded as she grabbed Ana’s arm and dragged her to a terminal. “Look at this. What the hell?”
Data scrolled over the screen in random patterns. File boxes would appear, then blip out and reappear.
“Shit, we’re being hacked. Why hasn’t the IT department shut it down?” Ana cursed. Greek and Italian expletives mixed with English as she dropped everything and started pounding the keys.
“Call IT, Pretzky. Shut us down, now.” When the woman hesitated, she shouted, “NOW or all our