Page 102 of The Triangle

“OK,” Alec says in the eerie silence. “We’re good for a bit. The hallways and stairs are concrete. So now we’ve just got to go through the gallery and the glass hallway.”

“Is that all?” Danny growls.

“Why did they stop shooting?” I ask, trying to peer ahead. It’s pointless though. There’s nothing but stairs leading down into the hallway that will take us directly into the art gallery. “Do you think they’re inside?”

All three of us simultaneously look back where we came from.

“No,” Alec says. “That room is too high up off the ground. Unless one of them is a parkour prodigy or they brought grappling equipment, they’re not gonna get in that way.”

Now we all look at each other. Because there was a team of people we knew once. A team of people who were the kind of enemy who could get into a tree house like this without the aid of equipment.

“It’s not them,” Alec says.

“No, can’t be them,” Danny agrees. “When we last saw them we were even.”

Shit.

“Focus,” Alec says. “We got this.”

Sure we do. But we focus. Because that’s the only choice we have.

A second later we’re at the bottom of the stairs, easing our way along to where it makes that sharp ninety-degree turn back into the gallery.

The shooting has stopped and that worries me more than if the attack was still happening.

“Why did they stop?” I hiss a second time, ducking under Danny’s arm. A barricade to keep me behind him. Alec has stopped at the corner, badly wanting to peek around to see what’s waiting for us. But I get there first, crouch down on my knees, and cautiously peer around the edge of the wall.

I duck back immediately. “Shit.”

“What?” Danny asks.

“Laser sights. Like a dozen of them, darting back and forth across the gallery.”

“They’re looking for us,” Alec says. “Which means they’re not familiar with the house.”

“Neither are we.” Danny huffs.

I pop my head out again. The lasers are fewer now, like some of them have moved on. They’re either wearing radio headsets or employing a secret hand-gesture language like we do. Because outside, it’s silent.

Doesn’t matter. Either way, a team like this has professional written all over it. The exact opposite of those dumb fucks who came in like blundering bulls at Danny’s garage this morning.

I watch, Danny and Alec waiting patiently for me to give a sit rep.

A few seconds later I whisper, “No more lasers. Must’ve moved on. Let’s go.”

I make to go first, but Alec tugs on my shirt and pushes me behind him. Danny does the same, and I end up last again.

Fucking men and their fucking hero complexes.

CHAPTER FORTY - DANNY

“Stay behind me,” I whisper to Christine. I know she’s capable of taking care of herself. Hell, she’s saved my ass many times in fights like this. But there’s no way I’m gonna let her go first into the death trap that’s waiting ahead.

She can bitch at me about it later. I can’t wait for her to do that. Because it’ll mean we made it out alive and she’s still around to throw one of her I’m-just-as-tough-as-you-two-assholes tantrums.

Alec flashes us a hand signal. Crawl, that gesture says.

Maybe they have moved on. Maybe no one is waiting for us to make the walk of death down that long, narrow hallway lined with glass on one side.