Shifting her weight to her other leg again, she wondered how Jack planned to get into the port. Security was locked down tight. No one was getting in or out without the proper ID. Still, if the Wetherton clone was on Jack’s side, maybe getting ID wasn’t a problem. Ministers could get such things, even a minister on the way out.
Sound whispered across the silence. She cocked her head, listening intently. After a few moments, she heard it again—the creak of metal. Someone was walking up the stairs.
The lights went out. She squatted and pressed back into the corner. Another faint creak whispered through the darkness. Carefully, she drew her gun, clicked off the safety and held it in a two-handed grip, aiming for the top step.
Down below, someone breathed. She could hear the whisper of his breath, sighing in and out of his lungs. Could almost hear the beating of his heart, a steady vibration far slower than her own.
When had her senses become so acute?
The landing immediately below her creaked. She tensed and waited. So, too, did the person below. His breathing was a short, sharp sound that spoke of fear. After a minute, he continued toward her. She tensed, her finger tightening fractionally on the trigger.
A head appeared—brown hair, brown skin. No one she knew. Metal glinted in his left hand.
“Police,” she said. “Drop your weapon and put your hands up!”
He jumped. Then, almost as if in slow motion, she saw his fingers tighten around his gun, saw the brief flash of white sear the darkness and the ripple through the air as the bullet came at her. She rolled to one side, then half rose and fired. The retort shuddered through her arms, the sound of the shot booming through the silence.
The impact threw him back down the stairs. She rose, walked over to the railing and carefully peered over. The stranger lay on the landing below and he wasn’t moving.
But someone else was.
Feet pounded up the steps—four men, at least. She scooted up to the next landing and pressed the alarm on her wristcom. One or two men she could cope with. Four was asking for trouble.
She waited in the shadows. The men stopped on the landing below, one of them cursing softly. Tension leapt into the air, so thick she could almost taste it.
They edged forward. She caught a glimpse of blond hair as the stranger tried to figure out where she was. She informed him by firing a warning shot that skimmed his head. He jerked back, but others appeared over the railing, returning fire. They missed her by several feet. Maybe they couldn’t see her too well in the shadows. She silently ran up to the next landing.
Where the hell was her backup?
With all the security running around this place, she’d have thought there’d be someone close enough to help her out. Maybe she should just hightail it up to the control center. The State boys were up there. At least the odds would be more even—though in reality, the gunshots should have had them out and investigating by now.
She listened to the four men below. They were creeping up the stairs again, heading for the next landing. The control center was only another two flights up. Damn it, why hadn’t anyone come out to investigate the gunshots? Surely they couldn’t have missed the retort of the Magnum. But she had no idea just how noisy a control center was. Maybe it was impossible to hear even a gun as loud as the .44.
The door above her opened as she reached the next landing. Light flung itself down the stairwell, making her blink. A lanky fellow in the State’s black uniform entered the stairwell.
“About time,” she muttered. Then the sudden silence hit her as odd. As did the officer’s amused expression.
Too late, she saw the gun in his hand and heard the muffled retort as he fired. She dove sideways, but not fast enough. The bullet tore through her shoulder, throwing her back hard against the wall. Pain ran like fire through her body, sucking the strength from her legs. As she slid down the wall, she stared at the lanky stranger walking toward her.
And saw that he had Jack’s eyes.
GABRIEL HEARD THE BOOMING RETORT of the .44 and slid to a halt, pressing back against the wall as he stared up at the dark stairwell.
After a few seconds, there was a second shot, then silence. High up he could see a shaft of light, starlike in the distance.
“I still can’t contact the State boys in the control center,” Stephan said into his ear.
“Have you got shooters on the roof?”
“Yep. The first-stage launch screen is up. It’s difficult to see anyone inside. No one’s responding to calls.”
“What about Sam?”
“She’s not responding, either.”
Sam was a by-the-numbers cop. If she didn’t answer, she was either injured or dead. Anger slithered through him. She might not be a friend, and she certainly would never be his partner, but she was someone he wouldn’t mind getting to know better. If she was dead, if he’d lost that chance, Jack would pay. “What about Kazdan?”
“No sign of him.”