26

THE BREAK-IN

From a logical standpoint, worming my way up an elevator shaft should cause less anxiety than sitting inside a ventilation system. This metal tube is substantially bigger, and I can feel a cool breeze whistling up either side of the elevator car. I’m also more active in this scenario, my feet searching for each foothold in the metal framework as my hands grip the cable like my life depends on it.

Which, technically, it does.

Ten stories might not seem like much when you take the stairs, but let me tell you, when you gain every inch by the force of your strength and willpower alone, it’s a heck of a long climb.

“Do I need to include a weight-lifting regimen in your workout?” Riker jokes as he leaps from one wall of the shaft to another. In all our time together, I’ve never seen him in action like this before, and I can barely believe my eyes. He’s like Spider-Man, putting me to shame with how easily he manages to scale the passageway.

“I can make it,” I say through gritted teeth. Upper body strength might not be my greatest asset, but determination is. “I haven’t met a back entrance I can’t handle yet, and I don’t intend to start today.”

“Good girl,” Riker says, genuine encouragement in his voice. “Just think of the prize waiting at the end.”

If he’d have dangled Grant as an incentive a few days—heck, even a few hours—ago, I wouldn’t have believed he wanted me to make it. But I know that he means it now. We have to keep going to get to the end. The prize. My husband. A man who may not love me but who I love with everything my black, thieving little heart possesses.

Which, as it turns out, is quite a lot.

“Race you to the top,” I call. “Last one up has to lure out any guard dogs.”

Riker responds to my challenge by swinging impressively from one side of the shaft to the other, but he’s got nothing on me. His fancy tricks might look good on the outside, but I’ve been doing this sort of thing a lot longer than him. When it comes to breaking and entering, the motto is always slow and steady wins the race.

That would be another of my dad’s maxims. No matter how tempted we might be to look for shortcuts or blast through walls, it’s always better to let patience rule the day. Crack the safe’s code with a stethoscope and painstaking care. Sit in the air vent for eight hours before you strike. Put one hand over the other and pull yourself up all ten flights of the elevator shaft.

Which is why I make it to the top first.

“You cheated,” Riker grumbles but with a good-natured air. “I want a rematch.”

“Sure thing. I’ll just need about two weeks to recover from that climb first.”

Panting only slightly, I extract a multi-tool from my belt, which Oz had the foresight to acquire along with the hazmat supplies, and start removing the bolts to the access panel. I’ve done this enough times that I’m able to make short work of it, carefully tucking each bolt in my pocket in case we need to replace them later.

I lift the panel away and hand it to Riker, poking my head out just enough to make a quick initial assessment.

“It’s clear,” I say, dropping to a whisper, “but we’ll have to be careful about cameras. I wouldn’t be surprised if they have a separate closed video feed just for this floor.”

“Or lasers,” he adds.

I stare at him. “Lasers?”

“You know, alarm lasers?” he says. “The ones that detect movement?”

“Those aren’t a real thing. In all our years of breaking and entering, have we ever seen security lasers?”

“Well, no,” he admits. “But we will someday, and when we do, you’ll be glad I know what I’m doing.”

Feet first, I swing through the panel, landing in a silent crouch on the other side. From there, I make a survey of our surroundings.

The elevators are located at one end of the floor, in an alcove that shields us from the main hallway. Beige carpeting silences our footsteps, but there isn’t anything to hide behind, which makes the silence a moot point. There are no large potted plants, no conveniently located snack machines, not even box windows with a few inches to spare. The second we round that corner, we’ll be in plain view of whatever awaits us.

To make matters worse, there’s a slight shadow shading the carpet near the wall, and my heart sinks at the sight of it. That shadow looks decidedly human, which isn’t a good sign. We’d have a better chance getting past lasers.

I turn back to Riker with a finger on my lips. “I think there’s a guard posted at the end of the hallway. We’ll need to find a way to distract him.”

“Distract him how?” he asks.

I don’t know. My mind runs over a list of possibilities, but we didn’t plan for a distraction. We can’t cut the lights, and we don’t have any of Jordan’s smoke bombs on hand. Equally out of the question is running screaming into the hallway to divert his attention, as that would alert any other guards to trouble.

I’m still mulling over the problem when Riker steps forward.

“Make some noise,” he whispers.

“What kind of noise?” I whisper back.

“Any kind.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how we’re going to get past him, that’s why.” He cracks his knuckles and crouches against the wall. “Now.”

“Riker, are you sure you can—?”

“Just do it.”

“But what if you can’t—?”

He glares at me. “I might not be a heap of brainless muscles like your husband, but I’m not without my uses. Trust me.”

It seems like people are asking me to do that an awful lot lately.

It also seems like maybe I should heed their advice. If I hope to get out of this hole I’ve buried myself in, I’m going to have to take someone’s hand. One fortifying breath and a wordless prayer later, and I shake the panel Riker removed. The wobbling clang of the metal sounds too loud to my ears, primed as they are for any sort of movement, but Riker nods to show his approval.

I press myself as flat against the opposite wall as possible, tempted to close my eyes against the inevitable. Unlike that day at Paulson’s, however, I keep my eyes wide open.

I’m not hiding anymore.

It’s over so fast, I barely see it happen. The guard rounds the corner to investigate the noise. Riker’s hand shoots out, and the side of it catches the guard in the throat to silence him. The man gives a strangled gurgle and reaches for the gun strapped to his waist, but Riker knees him in the stomach with an alarming show of efficiency. Sympathy pains weaken my knees as the man doubles over, at which point Riker brings his elbow down on the back of the man’s head.

That’s it. The guard, who is easily forty pounds heavier than Riker, crumples to the ground with a barely audible groan, knocked out cold. Grabbing the man’s gun and sticking it in his belt, Riker jerks his head for me to follow.

“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Where did you learn to do that?”

His sharp look is all the answer I need. Riker, it seems, goes a lot deeper than I’ve given him credit for.

“Stay behind me. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the hallway, or they would have investigated. It must be clear.”

I nod and take a few tentative steps around the unconscious man, prepared to follow Riker and his mad ninja skills to the ends of the earth.

As it turns out, the end of the earth isn’t far away.

With a seemingly endless hallway of doors to choose from, it might have taken us hours to find out which one contained the treasure we were looking for. But just a few doors down, slumped against the wall with her arms wrapped protectively around her knees, is Tara.

At first, I think she must be hurt, because there are tears in her eyes and her face is a mess of running mascara. All jokes about being caught in the crossfire aside, I don’t actually want anything bad to happen to her. I make a motion to go to her side, but Riker stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

I can’t imagine why until Tara notices us. She doesn’t seem surprised to see us, nor does she seem particularly excited to be rescued. In fact, she looks as though she’s seen a ghost. Her face glows white against the charcoal trails down both cheeks.

“Don’t go in there, Pen.” Tara’s voice is strangled, and I think it might be the end of us both. “Whatever you do, don’t go in there.”

Riker flings out a hand to stop me, but it’s not enough. Death, danger, a trap set to destroy me… Nothing beyond that door scares me as much as the idea that Grant might not be on the other side of it anymore.

Heart pounding, I push my way inside.