Chapter 21 - PETER’S GUN
Emily did not turn around.
The barrel touched the back of her coat.
Peter’s breathing was uneven.
Graham Ambrose looked almost bored.
“Peter,” Emily said.
“I’m sorry.”
His voice shook.
Matthew spoke in her earpiece.
“Emily, use the phrase.”
She stayed silent.
If police rushed the warehouse, Diane might die somewhere else.
If she obeyed Ambrose, Hale Systems would become his.
If she trusted Peter, she might be trusting the man who had helped hide her father’s toxicology report.
There was no good choice.
For once, Emily did not search for one.
She searched for the least terrible.
“Peter,” she said, “are you actually pointing the gun at me?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
Ambrose’s smile faded.
Emily continued.
“Are you pointing it at me, or are you making him think you are?”
Peter stopped breathing.
That was enough.
Emily dropped.
Peter fired over her shoulder.
The bullet shattered the laptop screen.
Ambrose shouted.
Matthew yelled through the wire.
“Move!”
Peter grabbed Emily by the back of her coat and dragged her behind a steel pillar.
Two doors opened above them.
Gunmen appeared on the catwalk.
Peter fired upward.
Emily covered her ears.
“Red glass!” she screamed.
The warehouse erupted.
State police breached the north door.
Marcus came through the west loading bay with Matthew behind him.
Ambrose ran toward the office stairs.
Emily started after him.
Peter caught her arm.
“No.”
She jerked free.
“Diane.”
“That video isn’t live.”
Emily stopped.
“What?”
Peter shoved a second magazine into his gun.
“He recorded it an hour ago.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were with him.”
“He grabbed me after the ambulance. I pretended to cooperate so he wouldn’t kill me.”
Emily stared.
“You could have told someone.”
“He watched every call.”
“You pointed a gun at me.”
“Also not ideal.”
“Not ideal?”
A bullet struck the pillar.
Peter ducked.
“Can we review my performance later?”
Emily crawled toward the broken laptop.
The screen flickered but the hard drive enclosure remained intact.
She pulled it free.
Peter stared.
“What are you doing?”
“Finding Diane.”
“By stealing a hard drive during a gunfight?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like Arthur.”
Emily stopped.
“Don’t say that right now.”
Peter nodded.
“Sorry.”
Matthew reached them seconds later.
He crouched beside Emily.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Peter?”
“I’m unpopular but functional.”
Matthew looked at the gun.
Peter placed it on the floor and slid it away.
“Fair concern.”
Emily almost groaned.
“Everyone stop saying fair.”
Marcus shouted from the loading bay.
“Ambrose is moving to the roof!”
Matthew stood.
Emily did too.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“Don’t even start.”
“I’m not telling you what to do.”
“You have the face again.”
“The face is worried.”
“That’s allowed.”
They ran toward the stairs.
On the second floor, Ambrose had locked a fire door behind him.
Marcus hit it with his shoulder.
Nothing.
Emily noticed an old freight elevator beside them.
“Roof?”
Matthew looked at the panel.
“It stops one floor below.”
“Close enough.”
They rode up in silence except for the machinery grinding around them.
Matthew looked at her hand.
She was still holding the hard drive.
“You took that?”
“Yes.”
“During gunfire.”
“Yes.”
“That was dangerous.”
“I know.”
“I’m not criticizing.”
“You are absolutely criticizing.”
“I am describing.”
The elevator stopped.
Emily sighed.
“I liked you better when you barely talked.”
“Noted.”
They reached the roof through a maintenance hatch.
Wind hit them hard.
Ambrose stood near the edge with a phone in one hand.
A helicopter approached over the river.
Matthew muttered, “Of course he has a helicopter.”
Emily looked at him.
“You own three.”
“Four.”
“That was not helping.”
Ambrose saw them and smiled.
“You should have taken the deal.”
Emily held up the hard drive.
“You should have bought a sturdier laptop.”
His smile disappeared.
The helicopter descended.
Marcus emerged from the roof door behind them.
Ambrose looked trapped.
Then he lifted his phone.
“Diane dies if I don’t make one call every ten minutes.”
Emily stopped.
Matthew said, “He’s bluffing.”
Ambrose shrugged.
“Perhaps.”
Emily studied him.
His shoes were wet with river mud.
There was a blue paint smear on one cuff.
She remembered the video of Diane.
Concrete wall.
Blue metal door.
A faint horn in the background.
Not a car horn.
A ship.
“Where did you record the video?”
Ambrose’s eyes narrowed.
Emily smiled for the first time.
“You made a mistake.”
He said nothing.
“The room is near water.”
Matthew looked at her.
Emily continued.
“Industrial water. The wall had salt stains. Your cuff has marine paint.”
Ambrose laughed.
“Very clever.”
“No.”
Emily looked toward the river terminals below.
“Desperate.”
The helicopter dropped lower.
Police shouted from the roof door.
Ambrose stepped toward the landing skid.
Matthew moved.
Too fast.
Ambrose turned and fired.
The shot hit Matthew in the shoulder.
Emily screamed.
Matthew went down.
Marcus fired once.
Ambrose stumbled, lost his balance, and fell against the roof railing.
For one second he hung over the edge.
Emily ran toward Matthew.
Then Ambrose’s phone slid across the roof and stopped at her foot.
The screen showed a countdown.
00:43.
A message beneath it read:
CHECK-IN REQUIRED OR PACKAGE TERMINATES.
Diane.
Emily looked at Matthew bleeding on the concrete.
May you like
Then at the phone.
Forty-two seconds.
