“No, you don’t get it.”
“I’m in the way. I get it.”
“No fuckhead, you don’t.”
“Jay.” Jacinta’s tone shut Jay’s mouth. “You should go.”
“I’ll go.” Mace grabbed for his phone, went for his bags. On the TV some politician in casual clothes was calling for people to be calm.
She met him at the door. “They’re not going to let you out.”
“I’ll make it work.” She put her hand to his chest and looked up at him. This was goodbye. They couldn’t talk privately at work and he might not even run into her again, and Jay was hovering. “Are you all right?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Of course she would. He’d confused her for a moment with someone less capable, less in control because she’d wrapped his shirt in her fist and was hanging on. He leant forward and kissed her forehead, she released his shirt and he stepped though the door.
Before it closed he heard Jay say, “He’ll be back.”
A different cop was on the door but the bodies were still there. He pushed it open and stepped out.
The cop put his combat boot in the door to hold it open. “You need to go back inside, sir.”
“I don’t live here. I need to get home.”
“Put your bags down and open them up.”
He did and when he straightened there were two other cops and a sniffer dog. “I need to get home.” He needed to get to St Ags, to Buster. He needed a phone to call Dillon and tell him to keep his hair on.
“ID.”
He went for his wallet and the cop stopped his arm. “Tell me what you’re going to do.” Man, heavy. They released the dog and it snuffled around his bags and he described where his wallet was. The dog went to its haunches, which seemed to be an all clear sign, and the cop fished out his wallet and pulled out his driver’s licence.
“Mason Lauder. What are you doing in this part of the city?”
r /> “I was with a friend.”
“That friend live in this building?”
He nodded.
“So you’ll be staying with that friend until the curfew is over.”
He thought about saying friend was a pseudonym for one night stand and that he’d made the career limiting move of fucking his boss’ boss’ boss’ boss, and there probably weren’t even enough bosses in that thought, and furthermore there were things he had to do, but what could he say? Countless people killed or injured, the city on high alert, a terrorist manhunt in progress. His issues were immaterial.
He shouldered his laptop bag and rezipped his duffle. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a hassle.”
The foot in the door cop pushed it open and he went back inside. Without a lift swipe he’d have to camp out in the foyer, or buzz her to come get him. Not that he wanted to go back to her apartment and have to deal with the boyfriend.
He put his back to the glossy marble and slid to the floor. Took his shoe off and closed his eyes. It was going to be long day.
5: Locked Down
If she could force dry toast down Jacinta might stop feeling sick, and she needed her wits about her to deal with Malcolm.
It didn’t matter to him the world outside her doorstep had gone apocalyptic; he wanted a new strategy for dealing with the shareholder discontent and the failed takeover. He didn’t ask if she was concerned, unsettled, and he’d know precisely what was going on: he had a hotline to the mayor’s office. It wasn’t that she expected any consideration from him, but after seeing those faces: the mother cradling the limp, bloody body of a child, the man with one arm blown clean off, the bodies under cover outside the front door, Malcolm’s lack of basic human compassion was harder than usual to take.
And so was Jay’s overbearing clinginess. The only thing she wanted to do was go rescue Mace. She could see him on the foyer security camera sitting on the floor, one shoe off, his head tipped back, trying no doubt to wish the day away. If she could have her way there’d be no explosions, no terror threat, Jay would go home and stay there, Malcolm would fuck off, and she’d coerce Mace back to bed. None of that was easily doable.