The Drafter

Breath held, he watched the men at the door ignore her, focused on a tablet and presumably the tracker. She gave them a backward sniff as she passed them, pushing open the glass doors—and was gone.

 

Bold as brass, he thought in relief and checked his watch. He and Liz would lead them through the mall and out the south entrance to leave the tracker on a bus before doubling back. Peri would probably be test-driving the latest model from Detroit. The woman did like her cars.

 

Not so fast, he thought, standing when he saw Liz striding through the food court. Peri never walked that quickly even when she was late, firm in the conviction that if you were important enough, they’d wait. Liz’s arms swung too far, her hips swaying not quite enough. The coat Peri had bought hung on her a bit loose; her shoulders weren’t wide enough to carry off the high fashion. The grace Peri held was missing, but no one else seemed to notice. Every single Opti agent was focused on her, and his pulse quickened as he swung Peri’s roller bag around as she approached.

 

“My God,” Liz said as she halted before him, beaming up at him in excitement. “The woman is a nightmare.”

 

Silas’s jaw clenched. True. “She’s complicated,” he said, hand on her shoulder to point her in the direction of the south entrance.

 

Liz flicked a glance behind them, disguising it with a tug to her new coat. “Yeah? You like paranoid, sarcastic basket cases who can kill a man with a ballpoint pen?”

 

“I like you, don’t I? South entrance is our best bet.”

 

“Where the construction is? Got it.” Liz fell into step with him, and he couldn’t help but notice that her pace was shorter than Peri’s. It took effort to shorten his stride to meet it. Funny how it had never seemed like a chore with Peri. “I can’t believe you’re still carting her luggage,” Liz said, almost obnoxiously cheerful against the weight of his concern. “All the way from Detroit.”

 

“She just bought it. It was my idea,” he said, not sure why he felt the need to defend her, when Liz got an Oh my God! look on her face. “She hadn’t seen her closet in two days,” he added, and Liz’s expression darkened.

 

“Okay, two days is a long time,” Liz said as they wove their way through the crowd to the south entrance. “But she bought a suitcase. How much did you give her?”

 

“Stop.” Silas warmed. Two hundred would have sufficed, but six had made her happy.

 

“Howard says you need to start acting more like an anchor and less like a dumped boyfriend,” she said, voice tight. “Personally, I think you need to stop acting like her doormat.”

 

“I said, Stop,” he repeated, not liking the number of Opti people at the south entrance: three, and one was on the phone calling for reinforcements. “When it gets sticky, you’re to run.”

 

“I didn’t agree to this so I could run at the first sign of trouble.”

 

It was all he could do not to give her a shake to wake up. This wasn’t a game. “You will run,” he said tightly. “I can’t keep both of us free.”

 

“I can take care of myself,” she said, and his bad mood cracked. It was exactly what Peri would have said.

 

“Let me get the door,” he said as she quickened her pace. “Peri always waits.”

 

“She is such a princess.”

 

Liz rolled her eyes and dropped back, and Silas hesitated. “Yes. She is,” he said, and Liz’s expression went sour again.

 

He pushed the door open, and they walked out into the early dusk. Silas scanned the area, wondering if the chain-link-fenced area under construction might hold some promise. Liz was silent, her chin lifting as she picked out the agents one by one.

 

“I see three,” he said, the roller bag thumping on the rough pavement.

 

“Five,” she corrected. “And more coming. Shit, who do they think she is? Superwoman?”

 

“Yep,” he said, pulse quickening. “Incoming at two, five, and eight.”

 

“Huh.” Liz’s pace had shortened, and he gave up on trying to meet it. “I thought we would have gotten a little farther.”

 

“I’m surprised we got out the door.” Silas met the eyes of the closest three, warning them before the fight even started. “I’ll plow your road. They won’t shoot to kill.” Not her, anyway.

 

“Silas …”

 

“Watch out for darts.” The three closest agents were almost on them. “Run!” he shouted, shoving her forward.

 

Crying out in frustration, Liz went. Silas whipped Peri’s luggage around like a hammer throw, grinning madly as he winged it at the man Liz was headed for. It hit him square on, and the man fell, grunting as he fumbled for her foot and missed.

 

“Keep going!” Silas shouted, then spun, affronted when a dart hit the back of his leg.

 

“God bless it,” he muttered as he pulled it out. His leg was going numb, but he could still stand on it. At least they weren’t shooting bullets.

 

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