With stomach-churning speed, they descended. Nina hauled Purdue into position, ready to get him into the lobby and to the comparative safety of the crowd. The bell pinged and the sleek white doors opened, revealing a corridor instead of the lobby. Sara's acolyte was standing with a gun in his hand.
"Nina!" The cry was out of Sam's mouth before he even realized it. High above him he could see Nina and Purdue being held hostage by the acolyte in the glass elevator. The distance was too great for him to see the gun, but the angle of the acolyte's arm told him everything he needed to know. The next thing he knew was that his feet were slamming against the road, carrying him back into the hotel, barging his way past the staff who tried to stop him.
He reached the elevator doors just as they parted. Nina and Purdue were on the other side, about to be marched out, but Sam seized hold of both of them and hauled them out. The acolyte gave a yell and lunged forward but Sam hurled himself forward, putting his whole weight into it, and shoved the young man back against the glass.
"Go!" Sam yelled at Nina. Still pinning the dazed acolyte to the glass with one hand, he reached out with the other and hit the control panel, aiming for the highest floor he could. The doors closed. Sam felt his stomach drop as the ground fell away beneath them.
This is it, Sam thought, this is going to be the last thing I see. A man whose name I don't even know, silhouetted against the night sky and the bright lights of Vegas. I'm about to get shot in the face. Just like Trish.
The handful of steps from the elevators to the door felt like miles to Nina. Adrenaline was preventing her from feeling the pain in her ankle too severely, but she was fully aware of the weight of Purdue slumped on her shoulder. He was trying his best to support himself, but the loss of blood was making him weaker by the minute.
"Just a few more steps, Dave," she encouraged him. "We're nearly out."
Cool night air surrounded them, welcome and refreshing. No sooner had they got out of the building than Julia Rose ran over and helped support Purdue. They slumped down on the nearest empty stretch of pavement, and Purdue immediately pulled out the tablet and began to unfold it.
"There's no time to lose," he said softly. "Nina, hold these for a moment."
He passed her the three keys while he pecked and pinched his way through his own security. His slender fingers flew at lightning speed.
"Julia Rose," Nina said, "you're the one with no injuries yet, so we need you to go and find us a cab. We'll get you out of here safely, but we need transport. The first one you see, bring it here. Tell the driver we'll pay ten times his normal rate in exchange for no questions asked." Julia Rose, eager to be far away from the Verbena, did not need to be told twice.
"I have it," Purdue whispered. "Now, the keys!" One by one Nina handed him the keys and watched as he deftly slid the thin connector into the barely perceptible ports on the tablet. As soon as the third one was in, it flashed a code — too briefly, Nina was sure, for anyone to memorize it.
But she had underestimated Purdue. He retyped the code as quickly and accurately as if he had been typing it every day for years, and then waited with bated breath for a response from the servers.
"It's done!" he cried, and began to raise his arms in a gesture of victory before the pain reminded him that he could not. He caught his breath as the pang of agony hit, but it did not take the smile off his face. "It's done, Nina," he planted a sudden, celebratory kiss on her lips. "The servers are cleared. Now all we have to do is—"
Overhead, there came an ear-splitting crash. Purdue paused in mid-sentence. He and Nina turned their gaze upward, toward the source of the sound, to watch what was happening to Sam.
The barrel of the gun drew level with Sam's eye. There was to be no mistake, no room for error. This would be execution style at point-blank range, hopefully painless and mercifully quick. Sam refused to close his eyes.
He was not even aware of the impulse to move his foot. The acolyte had doubled up in pain before Sam even realized that he had kicked him. Instinctively he ducked, hearing the bullet whistle past his head. It struck the doors and ricocheted, hitting the corner of one of the glass panels. Fractures streaked across the exterior surface of the lift.
Seeing the gun on the floor, Sam shoved it away and sent it spinning into the corner, as far as it could go from the acolyte. Despite their adventures with the drones, he was not convinced that he could shoot a man so close using a pistol. He'd be on me in the time it took for me to aim, he thought.
The bell sounded and the doors opened to reveal the thirty-seventh floor. I was hoping that by the time we got here I'd be in a position to kick him out and go straight back down, Sam cursed his luck. But I'm between him and the door, and I don't want to risk letting him get near the gun again. Maybe I can negotiate with him. Perhaps if I can buy us some time… He hit the panel again, sending the elevator gliding down toward the ground, but this time his clumsy hands caught the neighboring panel too. A section of white plastic fell away, displaying a bright red fire extinguisher underneath. Perfect! Sam thought. A blunt instrument. That'll do me a lot more good than the gun!
By now the acolyte had recovered enough to stand up — or at least to reach a painful approximation to standing. He took a swing at Sam, who dodged and started babbling, trying to persuade the acolyte that there must be a way that they could reason things out.
The acolyte's fist pulled back, ready to land a blow on Sam that would break his jaw. Trapped in a corner, too tightly hemmed in to duck, Sam hoisted the fire extinguisher in front of him for some protection. The ring that sealed the extinguisher dangled before his face. He grabbed hold of it and pulled hard.
The extinguisher nearly leaped out of Sam's hands, but he got it under control and turned the fierce spray on the acolyte. It hit the young man square in the face, hurling him backward. He slammed into the damaged glass with the full weight of his body.
In sickeningly slow motion Sam saw the fractures grow in the glass. One broken section parted company with another, sending shards of glass tumbling down to the street below like partly thawed icicles. He saw the acolyte's face become a mask of horror as he realized that the material that had been supporting him was gone. Gravity pulled him gently out of the damaged elevator. He flailed, his hands seeking anything on which they could gain purchase, but they found only broken glass. His arms described one final, despairing circle as he fell, spattering Sam with a thin mist of blood from his lacerated fingers. Sam did not hear the acolyte hitting the ground, but the reaction from the hotel guests assembled outside made it clear that he had — and that his end had been messy.
Curled in the corner of the destroyed elevator, Sam waited to reach the ground. The seconds felt like hours.
"Right there!" Nina yelled. "Stop right there, we need to get that man into the cab."
"You sure are lucky they ain't closed this street yet, lady," the cab driver remained surly, even despite the promise of a large payout. He did, however, comply with Nina's request and pull up right outside the doors to the Verbena, where Sam was staggering out.
One of the receptionists had run up to him and was attempting to steer him toward the ambulances that had arrived, but when Sam saw Nina open the door to the cab and beckon him inside, he pushed the receptionist away and dived in. He collapsed into the back seat next to Purdue.