“What does that mean exactly?”
“That means that Lockdown, Inc. and Signal Re search and Development stand to make a hell of a lot of money from anyone willing to pay the price. Terrorists. Dictators. Any demented son of a bitch who wants to wipe out a city anywhere in the world will be able to do that if he gets his hands on this poison.”
“My God.” She blanched. “What do we do now?”
“I’m going to grab as many of these notes as I can carry, then we’ve got to get you out of here.”
“Zack, we have to stop this. I’m not leaving until—”
In an instant he had her against the desk, his hands wrapped around her arms, his face inches from hers. “You’re not going to do a damn thing. This is my mission. My problem. As of now you’re out of it.”
“I’m going to finish this.”
“We’re going to walk out of here, then I’m taking you to the police.”
“How do you know the police aren’t in on this?”
Zack stared at her, knowing he was making a fatal mistake. Knowing he was acting on emotion and not the logic he’d always prided himself on possessing. He knew he couldn’t turn her over to the police. What he needed to do was contact MIDNIGHT and figure out who the mole was. He could no longer handle this on his own. He needed the agency’s help. But first they had to get the hell out of this godforsaken facility.
Feeling frustrated and more frightened than he wanted to admit, Zack released her, then looked down at the papers spread out on the desk. “Damn it.”
Emily reached for the papers, but Zack stopped her. He knew it was stupid, but he didn’t want her touching anything even remotely related to RZ-902. If they got caught, her only hope of coming out of this alive was if she convinced them Zack had taken her hostage.
He was in the process of stuffing the papers into the waistband of his trousers when, without warning, the door to the office swung open. Zack caught a glimpse of a male silhouette. The beam of a flashlight. Soundlessly he moved toward Emily, wrapped his arms around her and took her down to the floor.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered.
“Who’s there?” a male voice called out. “Show yourselves or I’m going to start shooting.”
He was so close to Emily, he could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the warmth of her breath on his cheek. He sensed the fear coming off her. She was beginning to hyperventilate. If her breathing got any louder, the man would surely hear her….
The flashlight beam skimmed over the top of the desk, which was the only thing keeping them from certain discovery.
“What now?” she whispered.
“I believe the scientific term for it is running.” Pulling back slightly, he gave her a smile. “On my cue we’re going to run for the door.”
“What cue?”
“You’ll know.” He couldn’t manage a smile this time. The tension was tightening around his body like a knot. If anything happened to this woman, he would never forgive himself.
Taking one last look at her face, he shifted slightly, shoved his hand into the satchel at his belt and took out his remaining concussion grenade. He’d been saving it as a last resort for an emergency situation. He figured this qualified.
Never taking his eyes from hers, he pulled the clip, silently counted to three, then tossed it in the general direction of the man’s voice. The grenade hit the floor with a dull thud and rolled.
“What the hell is—”
The blast shook the room, temporarily deafening him. Smoke billowed, pitching them into complete darkness. Zack jumped up and pulled Emily to her feet. “Run!” he commanded.
Zack and Emily streaked across the room and burst into the hall. Dim light and fresh air met them. Zack’s ears were ringing, but he could still hear shouting coming from down the hall. Flashlight beams slashed through the darkness. His fear notched up when he realized a group of men had heard the blast and were approaching at a very fast pace.
“This way!” he whispered and pulled her back into the room.
Once inside, he turned and locked the door. The grenade had done its job, filling the room with thick black smoke. The man stumbled about, bumping into furniture. “Who’s there?” he shouted.
Then a single gunshot split the air. Cursing, Zack shoved Emily in the general direction of the farthest window. There was no way the man could see them. But he could get off a lucky shot.
“What are you doing?” Emily cried when they reached the window.