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“I told you to go home with everyone else. Did you think you could get in on the action? Or maybe you were planning to turn us all in.” He waved the gun sharply toward Sara. “You—get over by the desk next to her.”
Sara hesitated. There was no way her cell phone could pick up her voice from there. “Please, don’t shoot,” she pleaded. From the look in his eyes, she had no doubt that he would pull the trigger. Two more bodies wouldn’t matter.
“Now!” he roared. “Move!”
Heavy footsteps approached, the sound of metal cleats ringing out against the terrazzo flooring like a death knell. In a second, there would be one good chance. After that, maybe none.
“Jane,” Sara mouthed. “Get down.”
The shock and horror on Jane’s face grew. “What?” she cried. “I don’t underst—”
Releasing Harold, Sara spun back against the wall and grabbed the extra gun from her waistband as the door burst open and Phil strode in. She darted behind him, caught his right wrist and jerked it up high behind his back as she kicked him hard behind one knee.
From the corner of her eye she saw Harold lunge at Robert, jaws snapping. Robert fell against the wall, a single, deafening explosion of gunfire filling the air.
When Phil buckled and stumbled to the floor, Sara rolled away with her gun two-handed and aimed directly at Robert’s chest.
Harold lay at his feet, his breathing shallow and blood welling up on his chest.
“I can drop you before you even start to squeeze that trigger, Hanson. Don’t think I wouldn’t like to do it. You move so much as a millimeter, and you’re a dead man. So’s your friend here.” She glanced briefly at the other man, who was down on one knee. “I want that gun on the desk, and I want you both belly down on the floor. Now.”
Phil stared at her in disbelief. “I...I only came because I heard the noise—”
“We’ll sort that out later, sir. Get on the floor.”
“Look, I never did anything. It was Rob—”
“Shut up,” Robert snarled. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Sara without lowering his gun. “I’m not that stupid. You’ve got two against one here, and you don’t have a prayer.”
“Special Agent Hanrahan to you, sir.”
His eyes darting left and right, he licked his lips, then swallowed hard. Sweat glistened on his forehead—but he still held the gun steady, pointed straight at her heart.
“I’ve got twelve agents already searching the factory. A copter landed a few minutes ago with five more. Whatever you do, this is over. Make it easier on yourself. Cooperate.”
He didn’t answer, but she could see his panic building. “I never miss my target, Robert. If you pull that trigger, I repeat—you’re a dead man.”
At a soft sound out in the hallway, Sara moved to the right so she could get her back to the wall and still maintain control of the suspects.
Robert’s gun wavered, then lowered.
“I see you’ve been busy,” Nathan said mildly as he stepped into the room with his own gun drawn.
“This woman barged in here!” Robert barked. “She’s been holding us at—”
“I know what she’s doing,” Nathan said. “Get down on the floor, or one of us will put you there.”
Anger glinting in his eyes, Robert awkwardly complied. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”
“I imagine I will.” Nathan retrieved two sets of handcuffs from his duty belt and cuffed both Robert and Phil.
Sara immediately dropped to Harold’s side and ran a hand over his fur. His breathing was steady. The wound had entered and exited through muscle, and the bleeding was slight.
After helping Robert and Phil to their feet, Nathan glanced at Sara, his eyes filled with concern. “Dispatch got a 911 call from here, but the caller canceled it. Then she got one from you—she couldn’t hear much, but she thought she heard the word Sanderson. Guess she was right. How’s your dog?”
“I think he’ll be okay, but I need to get him to a vet as soon as I can.”
His brow furrowed as he looked down at Sara’s hand. She’d grabbed a wad of facial tissues to stop the bleeding, but the blood had started to soak through.
