Domo Arigoto
In the frantic minutes that passed, I found the heap of my torn, bloody clothing, and the cell phone tucked in the back pocket of my pants. The signal was weak but there and I stared at it a moment, fingers trembling.
I could call. Didn’t mean anyone would answer. Didn’t mean they’d do anything but chuckle, say “Fuck you very much”, and hang up on me.
Didn’t mean she’d be anything but disappointed or horrified at me and all I’d done.
Shit. Not like I had a choice though, right? I dialled up Nicolette, pinching the phone between my shoulder and ear as I darted about the room. I had a towel and was wiping off the blood from my neck by the time it finished dialling.
One ring. Two. Don’t think about what to say. Keep moving. Three. Four. Even if you have to take down the whole fucking building and everyone in it, you’ll find another way. Five. Six. Fuck, I didn’t even know what time—
“Peri?”
The tight ball of tension hovering in my chest eased a little at the sound of her voice. “I’m at Bravo. I...” In my peripheral vision was the dark, bloody shape of the dead doctor. I fucked up again. I think. Unless I’d finally done something smart and lost myself a captor. “They were going to lock me up. I’m going to try to break out. I...” She hadn’t hung up on me yet. That was a good sign. “Can you pick me up?”
“Of course.”
Of course. That was like yes. I blinked a few times, not sure I’d heard her right, before the words at last adjusted in my brain again and I let out a deep, whooshing breath.
Of course. I shouldn’t have doubted her—she was a far, far better person than I’d ever be.
I moved to the sink next, running water and yanking paper towels off the roll in quick succession so I could clean the rest of me off. “You know where it is?”
“Zara got the address of several of the bases. Did they move you far?”
“It’s the one they took us to before.”
“Not far then. It’s a half hour until dark. I can bring the car but I don’t think I can break you out.”
“I’ll...find a way.” That was the easy part compared to everything else. “Will Zara kill me if I show up at her door.”
A pause. “I’ll deal with her.”
Good enough. “Nic, I...” I don’t know what to say. Thank you would be a start but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d uttered it and wasn’t sure I knew how.
“I’ll see you soon,” she said.
More tension eased from me. “Domo.” Closest I’m getting to “thanks” at the moment. “See you soon.” I hope. I ended the call, tossed the phone on the counter, and went about scrubbing down my arms, my neck, my face. A full shower would be nice but I’d have to leave the office to find one.
Shit. She was coming. She knew what I did—almost did—and she got to the safe house and saved me. One phone call and she was braving Zara’s wrath to come and get me. Who did that? Who helped out a girl they’d known a week—a girl who betrayed everyone, who smashed faces into cement...?
Don’t think. Plan. Get out. Ask her later.
Right.
Spots of red-tinged water dotted the counter and floor. My head still pounded so I popped a painkiller in my mouth and washed it down with a handful of water. I shut the faucet off and walked on cold, wet feet to the other side of the room. I had to get to the lab to destroy the samples—which meant clothes. Half a dozen lockers were tucked along the wall, unlocked. I rifled through two before I found a pair of green scrubs, which I immediately slipped on. No shoes, though.
I glanced back at the body. Well, not like he needed them.
Five minutes later I stood over the sink, wiping blood from Drew’s black sneakers. They were too big but I wasn’t planning on fighting my way out, so they might do. My heart had slowed to a more reasonable rate, my breaths coming calmly, body and mind on autopilot now that I had a plan. A stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless. I stuffed my feet into an extra pair of socks, laced up the running shoes, and went to put the whole thing in motion.
****
Scrubs. White lab coat. Too big running shoes. Glasses I could barely see in while wearing. Drew’s tablet and a file folder. I had one brilliant disguise.
Trick or treat, motherfuckers.
I also had his computer hard drive in the deep right pocket of the lab coat, banging against my thigh. I wasn’t sure what was on it but if Zara could crack the passwords on Fraser computer, she could on Drew’s. If she didn’t shoot me on sight.
One thing at a time, dumbass. One thing at a time.
My hair was mostly dry and I’d combed it back, showing more of my face but usually my hair was stuck up all over, so with the glasses and head bowed over the tablet as if reading, people might glance past me. The lab coat was the smallest I could find, which was still a size too big, and the hem of the scrub pants had to be rolled under as to not drag.
Yep. Real stealthy.
At least the drugs had kicked in. Just a dull ache wrapped around my skull and nothing throbbed. I felt nothing but a twinge in my chest where I’d been shot and though I found many cuts and bruises when I cleaned up and changed, none were giving me too much trouble. A fat dark bruise ran under my eye were Zara had elbowed me, sure, but with my head tipped down and wearing Drew’s wire-framed glasses, I didn’t think it would be immediately obvious.
The halls were busy, but not overly so. I watched the area in my peripheral vision until I saw white painted over gray, declaring the labs were to my right. I rounded the corner, gaze still on the tablet, shoes making a slight squeaking noise.
The lab door hummed as I stepped up to it and walked straight inside. The room was large and sterile, walls a pale steel gray and floor gleaming white tile. Occupants: three. Two at computers and one at the back of the room. I didn’t know them personally. I’m sure they were really nice people.
The room’s walls looked nice and thick. Good thing.
I stepped to the first. As she glanced up, I withdrew Drew’s Glock 22 and fired a bullet into her skull. Blood and brain matter splattered across the computer screen behind her.
The other guy at the computer yelped and his chair scraped the floor. A bullet hit his temple before he got very far. The last guy I hit in the chest. He slammed into the far wall, streaking crimson as he slumped down.
I fired again into his head for good measure.
Now. Samples.
I took stock of it all. A large, round cold unit sat in the corner, warnings scrawled across the side. If I was going to store things, that’s where I’d put them. But there were cupboards and locked refrigerated units and all kinds of places—the fuck if I knew what else might be here. And being all brawn, I could think of exactly one way to get rid of everything here.
I needed C-4.