Page 127 of Nothing to Fear

Gideon scrubbed his hands over his head, wanting to tear the door from its hinges.

Garbled noises came from Laurel. He staggered to her, unstrapped the explosive vest, and began cutting the tape binding her wrists.

The sound of rotor blades starting up overlapped with gunfire.

He glanced at the grate to the air duct and considered an agonizing belly crawl in the cramped space with a tight turn and his leg and side both bleeding. It’d take him five minutes of inching along, and then he’d still have to get downstairs. He needed to get out of that room fast. Right now.

Laurel’s hands were finally free. She pulled the tape from her mouth. “W-w-who are you? SWAT?”

“I’m Gideon.” He went to the window and jiggled it until layers of old paint and rust gave way and it opened. “I work with your sister.”

“You? I thought Willow worked with a bunch of brainy analysts. She ran off with some decoder guy. Is she okay?”

“She ran off with me. She’s fine.”

Clearly, she was surprised by the news. “It was a work thing related to this? Not a romantic thing, right?”

A work thing that turned into a romantic thing. “It’s complicated.” He glanced down at the four-story drop and ten feet over at the dilapidated fire escape.

Laurel looked out the window. “You’re not going to jump, are you? That fall will kill you.”

“Not from this height.” He climbed out the window onto the ledge, hissing from the sharp pang in his leg and his side and, well, just about everywhere. “Worst case, I’d break something.”

She stared at him wide-eyed like he was insane. “You can’t leave me here. What about the device he implanted in me?” She pointed to a bandaged area on the back of her neck.

“Demolition will take care of it. John Reece will help you.” If they ever made it through the war zone. He dug into his pocket and handed her an extra set of earplugs.

“What are these for?” she asked.

He hopped to the next window ledge, landing on his good leg. “On my signal, I need you to flip the switch on the jammer. Then put those earplugs in.”

“No, no!” She stuck her head out the window, waving her hands. “Daedalus will kill me.”

“Not if I kill him first.” He stared at the shaky fire escape, now six feet away. The metal staircase swayed in the breeze. That wasn’t a good sign.

The telltale thwopping sound cranked to full speed. They were preparing to take off.

“There’s no time to argue,” he snapped. “When you hear a huge explosion, it means the chopper is down and he’s dead.”

Gideon poised to jump, took a deep a breath and—

“Wait! Wait! What if he parachutes out or something? Then I’ll still go pop!”

Jeez. Her fears were legit, but they didn’t have time for this.

“I’ll come back to the window to confirm. But you have to shut off the jammer. If you don’t, the rest of my team isn’t going to make it, including the one man who can take that device out of your neck without your head exploding.”

Laurel nodded like she understood that more than her own life was at stake.

He leaped to the fire escape, catching hold of the top railing and using the bottom metal bar to support his feet.

Pain burst through his body, but the metal platform gave a startling jerk, stealing his full focus. A metallic groan bled over the fading thump, thump of the rotor blades.

The helicopter was airborne. Daedalus was getting away.

The steel apparatus creaked and groaned, tottering as though it would collapse at any second. Rusty bolts connecting the staircase to the brick wall popped out, and the emergency stairs wobbled.

Gideon shifted his weight a hair of a fraction.