she could take away the thing he wanted instead.
If she was going to use fire, then she’d have to disable the fire suppression system first. Places like this were high tech, and it was their business to protect the information stored here. They made sure it wasn’t going to get damaged. She’d have to get to the control panel. Shut it down, somehow. Lord willing. She needed Him on her side for this to work. After she got that done, she’d have to set the fire without Clarke stopping her.
Watch the whole place burn down.
Make sure it was all destroyed.
This was the backup of their system, so if there was no way to recover the data here? It was gone.
For good.
Forever.
Clarke shoved her forward.
The room was wider than it was long, filled with row after row of server racks. At the end was an office, probably where the staff kept an eye on things. Where the fire suppression control would be. Maybe in a closet, inside the room.
“Walk.”
Bridget kept her hands in view. She ran down a few possible scenarios as she moved, then finally settled on a decent one by the time she reached the office.
The second she hauled the door open, Bridget twisted and kicked Clarke square in the stomach. Before he could recover, she shut the door in his face and threw the lock.
“Bridget!” He pounded on the door.
She ran to the metal panel on the wall and tugged the latch open. Score. The fire suppression system.
And apparently whoever worked here wasn’t worried. They’d left the key in when they clocked out for the day. She twisted it to OFF and closed the panel.
“The cops won’t make it in here before I get what I want!”
He thought she was using the phone? “I don’t care!” she called back, then followed it up with, “As long as they catch you!”
She grabbed a bundle of papers from the printer tray and drew out the lighter she got from the security desk. Then she scrunched the paper into bundles, one or two sheets each, so she could set fire to them easily.
Now she had to get out there again, with enough time to start a blaze that would fill the whole room. Without him stopping her.
He banged on the door. She heard him start to kick it in, and ran to the desk where she went for the side panel. It was open. Whoever worked here had installed an extra fan in their computer tower, leaving the side open. She stuffed paper in there and lit it on fire.
The door smashed open, flung back to hit the wall, and bounced off it. As it came back, Clarke kicked it open and rushed in.
She rounded the desk in the opposite direction and headed out with her lighter and an armful of papers. He needed the computer in here to access the system that would let him retrieve their files. That would keep him distracted while she set the server room on fire.
Bridget set the papers inside the server racks. She didn’t have enough to ignite a quick blaze that would engulf everything all at once, but she’d do what she could to—
Clarke tackled her.
Her head bounced off the floor, him on top. Everything she held skittered across the tile. His elbow jabbed her ribs. She kicked out trying to dislodge him from her. Clarke still had the gun. The second she spotted it in his hand, she tried to grab for it.
The gun went off.
Both of them flinched. She jabbed at his eyes with her fingers. He cried out. She managed to scratch his cheek.
Smoke permeated the air.
Clarke’s attention drifted for just a second. Things were beginning to catch fire in a way that made her not want to be here too much longer. Just long enough to make sure the destruction would be complete, and no one would ever be able to get into the database.
His hands circled her neck and squeezed. Bridget gasped, which was about the worst thing she could’ve done. Now she had even less air in her lungs. She would die of asphyxiation caused by surprise—and Clarke’s vice-like grip.
Bridget’s vision blurred with spots as she started to lose consciousness. He would leave her for dead.
She grasped with her fingers and felt around the floor for something to use. A way to disable him.
She wanted the gun.
What she found was the lighter.
It took a few precious seconds that felt more like minutes. Bridget got the flame to