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Nigel braced for Devi's denials and protests. Her perfectly reasonable objections to the quality of the video and what it actually showed, nothing clear, certainly, save that five went down and only four returned.
Instead, she aimed a finger at him and said, "Breathe."
Striding the few steps between them, she righted his chair and patted the back in invitation. "He's a professional hacker and he had access to that machine. Shut down every connection and run a scan, every scan you've got."
She pressed his shoulder, guiding him down to the chair when he hadn't responded yet. "Are you up to this?"
He managed a nod.
Crossing to her own door, she was already stripping off her shirt, her back to him. "Once you kick that off, get changed and pack fast. We need to leave immediately." She vanished through the door.
Jittery strength flooded him as he grasped the implications of her orders. He wiped a hand over his face and got to work, dropping every connection—local network, his own cloud server and the external back-up which traveled in a separate case. He pulled the camera's memory card and set it to one side as if it could bite him again. It was one thing to suspect and speculate, quite another to watch the evidence.
His fingers flew and jabbed, shutting down everything he could and starting up the scans. What was most likely? Some sort of Trojan horse. Oh, God, what if they'd seen?
The process underway, Nigel raced to his clothes, yanking off his pajamas and stuffing them away, finding undergarments. The golden coin thumped against his chest as if to emphasize the wild pounding of his heart. He'd never been in the habit of unpacking in hotel rooms—given his numerous moves over the course of a program, easier to simply purchase good luggage and leave it organized. That served him now as he tossed his shaving kit back inside. From the night table, he plucked the thong with his little Yu'pik knife and slipped that over his head to nestle against the golden coin.
Next up, he swept the room of cameras, fumbling each one into its place in their hard-sided cases. One of the adventure cams slipped from his grasp, and Devi's hand retrieved it even as he bent to do so. Her own small bag joined his on the bed he hadn't slept in.
"You're doing fine," she told him, and he tried to nod his thanks as she unplugged and wrapped charging cables, finding slots for each one.
The computer chimed, and both of them whipped around, seeing the angry red warning of threats discovered, threats contained, and perhaps he'd like to upgrade now for even more options? Nigel powered it down and slipped the memory card into one of his now-many pockets. Laptop in its own case.
Jeep keys appeared in her hand, pistol in the other, held low. Apparently, she'd no intention of defending the men against his accusation, and gratitude swamped him to know that she gave him so much of her faith.
"Boots," she said, and he obeyed, finding his boots as she strode out the door, leaving it open. Laces all undone, he grabbed the cases and brought them outside. Luggage, cameras, laptop in a heap. Tripod and monopod falling in a tangle when he tripped over the bloody laces at the doorstep.
Silent and dark, the Jeep rolled toward him across the parking lot and stopped. Devi popped the doors, silently taking each item from his unsteady stack before he fell over and unsteadily stacked himself on top.
"Get in the car."
Mentally running his check-out checklist, he stepped one foot in the vehicle, then half-turned. "I haven't tipped the maid."
Devi paused, her face invisible, then she put out her hand. When he groped into a pocket, she snapped her fingers and opened her palm again. He found some bills and dropped them in. Just because they might be about to die, didn't mean he should stiff the staff.
"Tie your shoes, Nigel." She slipped back inside and returned with the last case.
As he bent to do so, a bullet smacked into the headrest behind him.