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“Kay.” I was too out of breath to talk now. Last flight and I staggered left, ducking back under the stairs. Sure enough, there was the fire door—and outside lay freedom.
I banged on the bar, wincing preemptively for the sound of a siren—but again, none came. I made a mental note for the report, but that could wait. For the moment, I was outside, in the blessed fresh air.
“Fuck!” Gabe howled in my ear, laughing now, the shaky, half-hysterical laugh of someone watching a movie with their heart in their mouth. “Jesus. You were incredible. I didn’t think you were going to make it.”
“I didn’t either.” My heart was banging in my chest, but I forced myself to slow to a walk as I crossed the car park. If there were more guards out here, no point in making it obvious who they were looking for. “Oh fuck me, I did not enjoy that.”
Gabe laughed, that chest-deep dirty rumble that I loved.
“A, I most definitely will, and B, we both know that’s a lie. You loved every minute of it.”
I felt a grin spread over my face.
“Okay… I did enjoy it a little bit.”
“A little bit? You looked like you were having the time of your life.”
“Are they still searching for me inside?”
“Yeah, they’re still poking around on the fifth floor. One of them’s opened up the server room, but they haven’t noticed the drives. You did brilliantly, babe.”
“I know,” I said modestly, and heard Gabe’s answering laugh.
“Have you got it from here? I need to get inside the network before they figure out what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I’m almost at the car. See you in…” I glanced at my phone. “Forty minutes? Traffic should be clear this time of night.”
“You want me to order some food?”
I realized that I was starving. I never ate before a job—running around on a full stomach doesn’t feel great—but now the idea of food made my mouth water.
“Yes,” I said emphatically. “A large pizza with mushrooms, peppers… No, actually scrap that. What I really want is the portobello veggie burger from Danny’s Diner with truffle mayo and extra onion. Think they’ll still be open?”
“Should be.”
“Great. Don’t forget the slaw. And extra fries. No, make that sweet potato fries. And tell them not to put it in the same bag as yours. Last time I was left picking your gross bacon jam out of my veggie burger.”
“Copy that. No fries. Extra bacon. See you soon, babe. I love you.”
“Love you too,” I said, and then, with a happy sigh, I hung up and disconnected the earpiece.
Scaling the wall was harder this time round, with aching muscles and a heart still pounding with spent adrenaline, but I scrambled up a recycling bin and dropped down from the top of the wall just around the corner from where I’d left the car, already rummaging in my bag for the key as I straightened up. I wasn’t even looking, but if I had been, it wouldn’t have made much difference. Because when I rounded the corner they were waiting.
I walked straight into the arms of the head of security.
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 5 MINUS SEVEN DAYS
Please try him again.” I knew my voice was getting testy, and I tried to keep it calm. If you react, the person you’re talking to reacts back. First rule of social engineering: stay pleasant and others are much more likely to do the same. But this was bloody annoying. What was the point of having a get-out-of-jail-free card if the guarantor didn’t pick up? “I can assure you he knows all about this and can vouch for me.”
“Let me get this straight,” the police officer said wearily, rubbing his hand over his face. “You’re a—what did you call it? A pen tester?”
“Look, it’s a stupid name, I get that. It’s short for penetration tester.”
The officer snorted, the security guard holding my bag smirked, and I felt my irritation rise even further.
“It’s a real thing, I assure you. I stress-test security systems for a living.”
“And your husband’s a hacker?”
