A Chip and a Chair (Seven of Spades, #5)(96)

Several armed guards were patrolling the perimeter on high alert. After a pause to observe the guards’ patterns, the four of them timed their final sprint to the building just right, slipping through the fire exit moments before a pair of guards turned the far corner.

Once inside, they crept through the halls in search of the triggerman. This wasn’t a huge building, and it only had one floor-but there were a lot of rooms, and they didn’t know where to even start looking.

Dominic wished he were wearing a watch. “Maybe we should split-”

“Guys, get over here!” a voice shouted in the distance.

Dominic and the others froze in place.

“What is it?” another voice shouted back.

“The alarm went off! Someone’s in the building.”

Alarm? Dominic exchanged a confused glance with Levi. There was no . . .

Scanning the hallway, he saw it-a subtle white box mounted low on the wall of the corner they’d turned seconds earlier. A motion detector, silent and passive, transmitting a signal only when it was triggered.

Just like the one you tripped at Roger Carson’s house, you unbelievable moron.

Multiple pairs of feet starting running in their direction. Natasha was already trying the nearby doors; finding one unlocked, she pushed it open and waved them all inside.

It was a utilitarian office, on the small side, dark save for what moonlight filtered through the one tiny window. Dominic shut the door without sound and held his breath as the guards arrived in the hallway.

“There’s nobody here,” said one.

“Don’t be an idiot. You know what happened at the Whitby, and who was responsible. Simmons said he wasn’t sure Lawson’s bullet killed Abrams. If that cocksucker is still alive and that alarm just went off, you bet your ass he’s in here somewhere. Spread out and search the building.”

Among the murmurs of assent, someone asked, “Should we relocate the device?”

“No. It’s too late. Text everyone-and I mean everyone. Tell them to drop whatever they’re doing and get their asses over here now. Let’s see Abrams try to fight his way through a goddamn army.”

The group outside broke up, their footsteps and voices heading in different directions. Levi reached out to lock the door, but Dominic stopped him and shook his head.

A second later, the door to the next room over-which Dominic knew was locked from watching Natasha try it-rattled in its frame. Then a gun fired as the guard shot the lock off.

They couldn’t stop the guy from coming in here, but if the door was unlocked, he’d be less suspicious. Best to take him unawares.

While Dominic backed into the corner beside the door, he indicated for the others to hide. Bringing Rebel with them, Levi and Natasha hunkered down behind the desk against the far wall. It wasn’t an ideal hiding spot, but their options were limited, and it only needed to work for a few seconds.

The door swung open. A man crossed the threshold, aiming a gun with one hand and fumbling for the lightswitch with the other.

Dominic stepped up behind the guy, caught him in a carotid choke, and squeezed, putting pressure on both of the arteries in the man’s neck. Instinctively dropping his gun to claw at Dominic’s arms, the man thrashed against the choke, but he couldn’t make any noise. With all of the blood flow to his brain cut off, the man passed out in seconds.

Releasing the choke before it could do permanent damage, Dominic laid the man on the floor and quietly closed the door again. The others emerged from behind the desk.

“We still have time to find the triggerman and stop the bombs,” Levi said, hushed yet urgent.

“Well, yeah,” said Carmen. “But you heard that guy. If every member of Utopia in Las Vegas is about to head straight for your position, that building is gonna be swarmed. They could start arriving any minute. Which means anyone who doesn’t leave that building now is never coming back out.”

They were silent as the implication of her words sank in, crystallizing into a horrible realization.

If they stayed here to continue pursuing the triggerman, they would die. But they couldn’t leave. Those bombs had to be stopped, no matter the cost.

Levi nodded and inhaled deeply, his face resolute in the dim light. “It won’t take all of us to finish this,” he said to Dominic. “Take Rebel and go.”

God, sometimes Dominic wanted to punch him. “If you think for one fucking minute-”

Zap.

Levi choked, his body spasming as Natasha’s stun gun emptied its voltage into his nervous system. Then he lost all muscle control, and Dominic had to dive to catch him before he hit the floor.

With Levi safe in his arms, Dominic turned an incredulous glare on Natasha, unable to believe she’d chosen now to betray them. Rebel growled, waiting for the signal to attack.

“You should have done me too if you wanted to make a break for it,” he said. He’d kill Natasha before he let her get away with this.

She tucked the stun gun back into her jacket, regarding him calmly.

What the fuck was she . . . Oh. Oh.

Levi was right: stopping the bombs didn’t require three people. Under the right circumstances, it would only require one.

Despite the way Levi had torn into Natasha at Hatfield’s condo, he would never let her take on a suicide mission alone while he fled for safety. But Dominic would, if it meant saving Levi’s life. And she knew that.