And without him, this is over.
Cooper straightened slowly. Kept his hands up. “Listen—”
The guard twisted the Taser, pointed it at his own stomach, and pulled the trigger. Electrodes leaped from the barrel and jammed into his white dress shirt. There was a loud crackling and a flash of sparks. He went rigid, every muscle straining at once, and then toppled like a mannequin.
Suddenly revealed behind him, Shannon smiled. “Oops.”
Amazing.
She winked at him, then dropped, took cuffs from the guard’s belt, and locked him up. Cooper secured the others the same way. “Sedatives?”
“In the bag. Ten cc.”
Cooper dug through and found a small black satchel with a hypodermic. He removed the cap, tapped out the bubble, then injected each of the guards in turn. By the time he’d straightened, Quinn was already in front of the projection screen, his fingers dancing through the air. “All right, all right.”
“What have you got?”
“I got art, boss. I’m now the supreme commander of a nice suite of cameras and remote override on the door locks.” The projection was four feet across, a glowing display hanging in midair. As Quinn moved and gestured, the screen responded, displaying video from various cameras: hallways, elevators, the lobby, all of it high definition and bright as a mirror. Satisfied, Quinn opened his laptop and propped it on the table. Dug in his gear bag and pulled out a small case. Inside, cradled in foam, was a row of tiny earpieces. He handed one to each of them. “Testing.”
Cooper gave his partner the thumbs-up. Shannon said, “You boys do have good toys.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, Elvis has entered the building,” Quinn said. On the screen, two men Cooper didn’t recognize stepped into the lobby. They wore jump boots instead of dress shoes, and they moved in graceful sync, checking the room, each knowing where the other would be looking. Each had a hand inside their suit jacket.
The next people through the door were his family.
Natalie was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, probably the same outfit she’d been wearing when Dickinson came for her. She looked lovelier than he remembered, but her face was pale and her shoulders tight.
Their children stood on either side of her, each holding one of her hands.
The world slipped and wobbled. Cooper felt a sick-sweet nausea, a blend of emotions competing at full force. It was the first time he’d seen them since the night everything changed, and he was shocked at how much they had grown. Todd was a full inch taller and ten pounds heavier, and Kate’s face was losing the round softness of baby fat.
Six months, gone. The firsts that would have happened in that period, the laughter, the questions and fears and the ever-disappearing hours of them napping in his lap. The loss was palpable, tugged at him with physical weight.
Worse was the terror. To see them here, in the care of monsters, and to know that it was his fault. If anything happened to either of them, my God, the world would crack, the sky would shatter, the sun would wink out, and all that would be left was a howl of wind across the emptiness.
As if to focus that fear, two more men stepped in behind them. Roger Dickinson, wary and alert, his quarterback good looks hiding a ruthless devotion that would make anything permissible. And Drew Peters, trim and neat as ever, cool gray as a winter morning. He carried a metal-backed briefcase that looked heavy.
I’ll take care of your family.
“Okay,” Quinn said, hands swirling in the air. The screen broke into quadrants showing external views. “No sign of other teams. And I’m monitoring DAR transmissions…” he looked at the laptop, “got no notable action within half a mile. Looks like Peters didn’t want to risk spooking you.”
Cooper didn’t respond, just stared. The two in front were good, he could tell. No surprise, but the fact that he didn’t recognize them meant that Peters was using assets who weren’t part of the conventional Equitable Services structure. Probably part of his private team, the men he uses to clean up messes. They’ll know what you can do and be ready for it.
Two more men followed. One took up a position by the door; the other started toward the empty information desk. The advance guards headed for the elevator. Natalie stopped, turned over her shoulder to look at Peters. Said something.
“What’s she saying?”
“Sorry, boss. No audio.”
On the monitor, Peters shook his head. Dickinson stepped forward and put his hand on Natalie’s arm. His fingers curled tight. Cooper fought an urge to punch the wall. The group began moving again, heading toward the elevator.
The janitor shut off the floor buffer and straightened. By his posture, it was clear he was asking them what they were doing. Without releasing Natalie, Roger Dickinson turned, pulled a gun from inside his suit, pointed it casually, and shot the janitor in the head.
At this distance, through the door, the bullet sounded like a firecracker.
On the screen, blood and gray matter spattered across the clean marble floors. The janitor crumpled.
Cooper was almost to the door before he realized he’d started moving. But Shannon was in front, wrapping her arms around him and planting a shoulder in his chest. “Nick, no!”
“Get out of my—”
“No. He’s dead, and if you go out there, so are your children.”
Cooper put a hand against her shoulder and—
Two men in front, ready. They’ll be the first. Slide on the floor and fire, they won’t be expecting it, you can take both.
Then stand up, run to the corner, take aim on…
Dickinson, a gun in his hand, standing beside your family?
Peters, behind them?
Two additional shooters in widely-spaced positions?
—let it slip down her arm. He took a deep breath. Facing them now was suicide. Hell, that was probably even part of the point; Dickinson knew he was nearby, wanted to goad him into a stupid move.
“Cooper?” Quinn asked dryly. “We good?”
“Yeah.” He shook himself free of Shannon, but gently, and she let him. “Yeah. What’s happening?”
“Rear guard is moving on the body. Everyone else is heading for the elevator.”
“All right.” He took another breath, turned back to Quinn. His partner had cycled the images to follow the group’s motion. The time code read 9:46. “You’ve got full control?”
“Just as God intended.”
“Good. You can call the ball from here. Do you have a layout of the office?”
Quinn turned to the laptop, pulled open an architectural drawing, and made a few motions. “Hingepoint Productions. A graphic design firm. Their tagline is ‘Technology folds into art.’ Cute, huh?”
Shannon said, “You can get a floor plan of any place? Just like that?”
“That’s why we’re Equitable Services, sweetheart.”
Cooper leaned in. The diagram was simple enough, showed an open-plan office, rows of cubicles, the basic layout. “Can you pull it up on the cameras?”
“No. Building security covers common areas only. But I was able to remotely unlock the door.”
“Okay. Shannon, you go up the stairs, I’ll take the elevator. They’re expecting me to be alone. They’ll be keyed up and focused on me. Should make it easy for you to do your thing.”
“They’re heading up.” Quinn typed in the air, and the whole screen filled with the inside of an elevator. The two shooters in front, then Natalie and his children, with Peters and Dickinson in back. One of the shooters pressed the button for the tenth floor.