A veil came down over his eyes. For some reason, Lyssa was not someone he wanted to talk about right now.
"Her, too," he said, looking back to the screen. "Computer, display translation disk three."
"Displayed."
The third disk was not a list of names and donations. It was a series of pictures, and the subject was Lyssa.
"Looks like someone's setting her up for a hit," she said. "They've obviously been following her around."
"Maybe."
There was an edge to his voice that suggested anger, though it hadn't yet reached his eyes. "What I want to know is how deeply Kazdan's involved in all this."
From the sound of it, he was talking about something other than a hit. She'd even go as far as to guess that he was talking about an event that had already happened. But that made no sense. Lyssa had been just fine this evening — unless he thought the bomb had been primarily aimed at her. Though why go to all the trouble of photographing her movements if you were simply going to blow the shit out of her?
"I don't understand — "
He touched a finger to her lips, halting her question. "Listen," he said softly.
For a moment, she could hear nothing beyond the sound of their breathing. Could feel nothing but the warmth of his finger against her lips. Then, slowly, she became aware of a faint hissing sound. It sounded for all the world like a snake had moved into one corner of the room.
Only no snake could get into a building like this.
And no snake she knew of smelled like overripe gym shoes.
"Fuck — gas."
She glanced at him sharply. "What?"
"That noise — it's some kind of gas being pumped into the room." He grabbed the wristcom and disks, and then scrambled to his feet. "Let's get out of here."
She didn't argue. Gas leaking into a room was never good. Gas leaking at a time when they'd be using the com-unit and normally not notice could only be a trap. The bedroom door slid open. Vapor hissed into the main room, thicker and more noxious than in the bedroom. She held her breath and ran for the front door, only to see it slide shut. The locks clicked firmly into place, a sound that ricocheted across the hissing, as sharp as death.
Trapping them like rats in a stinking prison.
Chapter Ten
"It hasn't been half an hour yet, has it?" Sam pulled uselessly at the handle, and then got out the key-coder Jack had given her.
"No."
The key-coder flashed red. It couldn't break the lock. She slapped the door in frustration and turned, watching a puff of pale yellow vapor creep fog-like across the carpet. "I think we'd better contact reception and see if she can open the door again. And fast."
He already had his cell phone out. "No answer," he said after a moment. "Any idea what's behind door two?"
The vapor began to catch at her throat. Fighting the desire to cough, she tried to breathe as shallowly as possible. "Bathroom, maybe?"
"Maybe. Come on." He touched her arm, guiding her across the room.
The vapor was thicker near the doorway. It tore at her throat and seeped down to her lungs, burning like fire. Dizziness swept through her, and for an instant, everything blurred. Only Gabriel's light touch kept her upright, kept her moving.
The second door swept open. He pushed her through, and then slapped a hand against the control on the wall. The door shut, momentarily locking the vapor out. She took several deep breaths, then bent over and coughed long and hard.
"You okay?"
His hand touched her back, its warmth contrasting starkly with the ice creeping over her skin. She nodded and straightened. His eyes were red-rimmed and watering, and his face was the color of milk.
She looked around, noting the shower and wash basin. "It is a bathroom."