Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(32)
She checked her watch—5:15 P.M., right on schedule.
So where the hell was everybody?
She glanced down at the floor, where long boxes of molding lined the corridor. The air was thick with the odor of paint and new carpeting.
She approached Suite 316, where she was supposed to meet her prospective new client.
She stopped.
No name on the door. The frosted-glass panels next to it were dark, indicating no life or activity beyond.
She tried the handle. Locked.
What the hell?
She checked her phone to make sure they hadn’t canceled.
Nope.
She scrolled through her old messages to make sure she was at the right place.
Yep.
But the entire floor appeared to be empty. Just like the entire building, for that matter.
Someone was yanking her chain.
But why? Why in the hell would anyone—?
Footsteps echoed behind her.
She turned. They were coming up the stairs. Good. Maybe she could get some answers.
The footsteps suddenly stopped.
Then a moment later, they resumed. But slower. And quieter. It was like …
Like someone who was trying not to be heard as they approached this floor.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
They were getting closer.
Tap. Tap.
Kendra spun around.
These were coming from the other side of the hall.
Tap. Tap.
Another person trying not to be heard.
Whispers behind her.
Then in front of her.
They were talking to each other.
She wasn’t just being paranoid. She was sure they were on their phones or some other devices engaged in a hushed conversation.
And they were both still moving toward her.
She could feel her heart start to pound.
Tap. Tap.
Shit!
The lights had shut off. She couldn’t see her hand in front of her face.
That was okay. More than okay.
Did they even know who they were dealing with here? She was at home in the dark.
She crouched low against one of the closed office doors.
Stay calm. Focus.
Neither of these people, whoever they were, knew that exactly twenty-six steps separated her from the stairs. They weren’t aware of the two cartons of molding, box of nails, and the large fire extinguisher in their path. She could make the darkness work for her.
She looked up. Two green eyes glowed at the end of the hallway.
Her heart sank. Oh, no.
Night-vision goggles.
She turned back. Another pair of goggles glowing in the darkness. They could see everything clear as day.
And they were moving toward her.
Her eyes flicked between the two. Judging from the height of the goggles, she was dealing with two large men between six feet and six-foot-two. If she waited, it would be two against one.
Can’t let that happen.
She leaped to her feet and ran back toward the stairs, zeroing in on the glowing eyes.
Gotta do this just right …
The assailant appeared to be frozen in place, stunned by her frontal assault.
Or had he just stopped to aim a weapon at her?
Can’t think about that. Play it smart …
She ducked and weaved at the last moment, never breaking stride as she reached out with her outstretched hand.
She clawed upward and ripped the goggles from his face.
She felt his skin fly beneath her fingernails. She whirled around and landed a direct kick to what she thought were his kidneys. The man grunted and fell to the floor.
She spun around and ran for the stairs. Just another few—
Pain. Horrible, excruciating pain between her shoulder blades.
Can’t breathe. Can’t move.
Her legs weakened, and she felt the floor rushing toward her. Two strong arms grabbed her before she landed. She looked up.
Two glowing green eyes. The other man now had her in his grip. He dragged her to one of the offices and threw open the door. The early-evening twilight flooded in through the bare windows.
At last she could see, but the only sight that greeted her was a nightmare. There, in the middle of the bare office, was a roll of duct tape, a large fifty-five gallon drum, a handcart, and a hypodermic needle.
Great. A psychopath’s standard-issue abduction kit.
She could feel her legs again, but they were weak. Rubbery. She was in no condition to fight this man, but if she didn’t do something fast, she knew she was going into that damn barrel. She dug her nails into his hand, but that was the only resistance she could summon.
The other man moaned in the hallway as she found herself dragged toward the hypodermic needle.
In an instant, the man’s low moan gave way to a shriek.
Then silence.
The man holding her called out to his partner. “She’s not easy. Stop whining and get in here. Now!”
Silence.
The man grunted a curse word and threw her to the ground. He placed a knee on her back and picked up the needle.
Kendra’s eyes darted around the room. She couldn’t move, but there had to be some way, somehow that …
Zzzzot!
She heard an electrified crackling, and in the next instant, her attacker was facedown next to her.
What the hell?
She rolled over. The man was twitching and gurgling, and the sudden acrid odor let her know that he was wetting his pants. Then a familiar pair of boots strode into view.