Mind of Danger (Body of Danger #3) - Sidney Bristol Page 0,31
voices came closer.
Another electric beep and a door banged open.
“Nyet,” one voice said.
That was Russian. One of the simplest words.
No.
They knew Elias, at least, wasn’t there. They might not even know Torres had come to Elias’s rescue.
He closed his eyes, focusing on all the sounds coming to him. The footsteps. The garbled words. The doors. He could hear voices through the walls from other offices. Isaac and Jo were oddly quiet.
“They’re moving away from you now, checking offices,” Isaac said.
“Torres, why did you want me to be with Aegis Group?” Elias asked.
“Because, they always seem to swoop in and save the day,” Torres whispered. “I hear stories. Crazy stories from clients. I figure, if things are going south, I want to be where you are.”
“Hall is clear. Keep going left, there’s a stairwell on your left. Go. Now,” Isaac barked.
“Listen to him,” Jo said.
Elias nodded, as if they could see him. “Torres? Stay close behind me.”
“You bet.” Torres’ voice actually wavered.
“You have any combat training? Any active shooter drills?”
“Yeah, active shooter drills.”
“Okay, so you know to keep your head down, right?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll go first, but I want you ahead of me. We know they’re behind us. I’m wearing body armor. You aren’t.”
“Elias...” Jo whispered.
He shut out her voice, and the concern laced through it.
Elias gripped the door and turned the handle just enough to peer out.
The place was a ghost town.
“Let’s move,” he whispered and stepped out.
Torres was with him every step, squeezing out and bending low. Elias kept his left hand on the guy’s shoulder while watching their six.
“There are two circling back,” Isaac said.
“Move faster,” Jo urged.
Torres must have sensed the order, because he started jogging.
The sign for the stairs loomed ahead.
Elias turned, facing the way they’d come, gun still pointed at the ground.
Another beep and the stairwell door opened. He cringed at the loud, metal on metal sound of it, but nothing could be done.
Someone called out, and another man answered.
“Go,” Jo bellowed.
Elias dove through the open door and shouldered it closed.
“Great, now—” Jo’s words were cut off by a distant boom.
“Jo?” Elias lurched for the stairs. “Jo?”
“The door! Get the door,” Jo screamed.
Fuck. They’d been so focused on getting Elias and Torres to safety, they hadn’t been looking after themselves.
7.
Thursday. Eagle Tech, Seattle, Washington.
Jo threw her weight against the metal door. They couldn’t fire through it. Not metal this thick, so she was safe from that threat. But there would be nothing to hide behind if those men got in here.
This was all her fault.
At least Elias and Torres could get out. They knew the truth. She didn’t want to die, but at least she’d finally shown Elias how she felt. She could die knowing she’d reached for what she wanted, and that this case wouldn’t end with her. Elias would never allow that to happen.
“Fuck you, Jo. Fuck you and all of this,” Isaac wailed as he ran headlong into the door with her.
The door thunked shut, and the lock reengaged.
She blew out a breath and knew her relief would be short-lived.
There wasn’t another way out of here.
“Jo? Jo, talk to me?” Elias begged in her ear.
“Get your ass here or we are dead,” Isaac yelled, as if he needed to be louder to be heard by the comms.
“No,” Jo snapped. “Elias, get out of here. I’ve got a plan. We’re going to do that fake-out, remember? We’ve got this.”
Isaac stared at her. “I need my gun back.”
The door chirped, and the locks disengaged. It was now a brute force pushing match,, and the odds were not on her side. She braced her foot harder while reaching for the other weapon.
Did she trust Isaac? Could she?
She didn’t know.
But one way or another, she probably wasn’t coming out of this alive. What did it matter which of her enemies shot her?
Someone shoved at the door, but with the two of them bracing it, the thing barely budged.
“How many of them are there?” Isaac asked.
“I don’t know.” She thrust the gun at Isaac.
“There aren’t any bullets,” he snapped back.
She yanked a loaded magazine out of her pocket. Thank goodness she’d brought more bullets.
Isaac snatched it and quickly reloaded his gun.
“How many?” he asked again.
“I told you I don’t fucking know.”
Isaac glanced back at the screen. “Hold on.”
“Isaac!” If she could have snatched him back she would have.
He raced across to the monitors, his fingers flying.
“We’re almost there,” Elias said.
“Don’t. Don’t come,” she begged.
“It’s just three. There’s only three of them.” Isaac whirled toward her, gun in hand, eyes