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Fuck. I couldn’t say anything, and Gabe knew it. He could see his wife on the monitors, caught like a mouse between two cats. There was no way out. I would have to hide.
“Duck in an office,” he ordered, but I was way ahead of him, already trying door after door. One locked. Two locked. Who were these people? Didn’t they trust their colleagues? A third one locked. Frantically I dug in my backpack for my lockpicks and stuck them in the keyhole, digging around with a force that was as likely to break the picks as trip the lock. But luck was on my side, and with a heart-quickening click, the lock gave. I slid inside, wrenched the locking mechanism shut, and stood with my back to the wooden door, trying to quell my thumping heart.
“I can see you,” Gabe said urgently in my ear. Craning my head to one side, I realized he was right. Even flat against the door, I was visible through the office window, and the guards were getting closer. Gabe had muted his mic so that I could listen better, and now I could hear their footsteps in the corridor, their voices getting louder.
I had only seconds to decide what to do.
They’re searching rooms, Gabe’s warning came into my head. If they opened the door, I was sunk.
I flung myself onto the floor, rolled sideways under a sofa, and lay there, my face pressed to the carpet, my heart thudding in my ears. For a moment I had a sudden, surreal image of my imaginary office worker, Jen, and what she would make of this, and I had to suppress a hysterical urge to laugh.
Instead I lay, holding my breath, twisting the ring on my left hand round and round with my thumb. It was my usual tic in moments of stress—a habit somewhere between biting my nails and crossing my fingers, only one that involved Gabe. It made sense; at least half the time, my fate was in my husband’s hands.
Outside the door I heard the footsteps stop and the rattle of a handle.
“This one’s locked as well.”
“They’re all locked on this floor,” said another voice. “Here, I’ve got the master.”
I heard the jangle of keys being thrown and stifled a laugh as the catcher missed and they fell to the floor.
“Do me a favor and just hand it to me next time?” I heard, and then the scratch of a key in the lock and the door opening. A torch swung around the space and I held my breath, praying they wouldn’t direct the beam under the sofa. There was the sound of a roller chair being moved… then the shhhhhh of a door closing.
I let out a trembling breath as quietly as I could.
“Nothing in there,” I heard from outside. “What about the bogs?”
“Empty.” The second speaker’s voice had an echoing quality, as though he was speaking from inside the bathroom itself. There was a pause and then, “Wait, hang on a sec…”
From my position under the sofa I could see nothing, and very carefully I raised my hand and touched my headset.
“Talk to me,” I mouthed, the words barely above a breath.
“They’ve discovered the ceiling panel,” Gabe whispered back.
Shit.
“Have a look at this,” the second guard said.
I listened to the sound of footsteps as the first guard, the one who had searched the office I was in, made his way up the corridor. There was a creak as the bathroom door swung open… then a gentle thump as it soft-closed behind him.
I was slithering out from under the sofa when Gabe’s voice crackled to life in my ear, a low scream of urgency.
“Go, go, go. Now!”
I didn’t need to be told. I was already on my feet, wrenching open the door, looking up and down the corridor, unsure which way to go.
“Opposite way from the lifts!” Gabe said, and I took off, pounding down the corridor, careening round the corner, where I would have face-planted into another set of security doors had Gabe not already triggered them. They stood open, waiting for me as I skidded through into a little lobby.
“Fire door to your right,” Gabe said, and I slammed through, finding myself in a vertiginous stairwell, spiraling down into darkness. The heavy fire door banged shut behind me, but I didn’t care. I’d already blown my chances of a stealthy exit. Nothing mattered now except getting away.
Down one flight. Down two. My heart was hammering in my ears.
“You’re nearly there.” Gabe’s voice in my ear. “You can do this—three more flights and then hang a sharp left and you’re at another fire door.”
“Wh-what if there’s an a-alarm?” I panted. Another flight. One more to go after this.
“Fuck the alarm. The other door wasn’t alarmed. But if there is I’ll override it. You got this, you hear me? You’ve got this.”
