“Yes. But I could be a good friend to you.”
Kobb said, “Mr. Epstein, this is a bad—”
The billionaire silenced him with a look. To Cooper, he said, “Would you give us a moment? I’d like to speak to Ms. Azzi and Mr. Kobb privately.” He turned to face the girl. “Millie, would you bring Mr. Cooper to the executive lounge?”
Cooper shot a glance at Shannon, couldn’t read her response. They’d formed something of a bond over the last days, but she didn’t owe him anything. For a moment he considered refusing. But what would be the point? If he was caught, he was caught.
With exaggerated nonchalance, he stood. “Sure.” Millie slid off the couch, her d-pad clutched tight to her chest. She walked to a blank wall. Part of it slid aside as she reached it, a hidden door he hadn’t noticed. How much else had he missed?
At least the girl was going with him. Whatever she had figured out, she wouldn’t be able to tell. He followed her in and found himself in another elevator. There were no buttons, no control panel. The muscles of his lower back tightened. He wondered if “executive lounge” was code for something.
Something like “interrogation cell.”
You bought the ticket. Time to take the ride.
The last thing he saw as the door slid shut was Shannon looking over her shoulder at him, something inscrutable in her eyes.
Standing in the tiny box, he had a sudden vision of himself as though from a satellite. A close-up that quickly zoomed out: man in a box in a building in a complex in a city in a state in a nation—and an enemy of all of them. Panic slid slick fingers through his stomach. He took a breath, rolled his shoulders. Only way out was through.
Millie stared at the middle distance, her face hidden by bright green bangs. She looked so lost that for a moment he forgot his own situation. He wondered how many meetings she had sat through, how many billion-dollar deals. How many times her insight had led to someone’s death. The weight of it would have been a lot for a soldier to bear. And she was just a child.
“It’s okay,” she said.
Cooper started. He wondered if she meant his situation or hers. “It is?”
“Yes.”
He blew a breath. “All right. If you say so.”
Again, he couldn’t feel which direction the elevator was going, but it could only be down. And given the length of the ride, lower than the ground floor. Odd. And why a private elevator with a hidden door? What kind of executive lounge was accessed through the boss’s office?
Ten more seconds, and the door slid open. Another hallway, but no sunlight or botanical garden here. They were in the basement, huddled beneath the humming power lines that drove the building.
“Go ahead,” Millie said.
“You’re not coming?”
She shook her head, still staring at the floor. “Go to the end. There’s a door.”
Cooper looked at her, then down the hallway. Shrugged. “Thanks.” He stepped off the elevator.
“You should be careful,” Millie said behind him.
“Why?”
For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she raised her head, swatted a lock of green hair behind one ear. Took him in with those strange, sad eyes. “Everybody’s lying,” she said. “Everybody.”
The elevator door slid closed.
Cooper stared at it. Slowly, he turned back and faced the dim hallway. He flexed his fingers. Wondered how deep he was right now. At least as far underground as he’d been above it a moment before. Something nagged at his subconscious, that hint of a puzzle piece that hadn’t fallen into place yet, a pattern he could sense more than see. A hidden door. A private elevator. A child for an escort. A gifted, troubled child.
What was this place?
If this is the executive lounge, I’d sure hate to see the regular one.