Chapter 21: Faking It

“Do you know of any other way out of here…besides,” Jacob motioned, “down those stairs and through the room we came from?”

Felicity looked right. “We were taken from the basement and brought up to the main floor by a second set of steps.” She frowned. “I’m not entirely sure, but I think they went higher up…to this floor.”

“Where are these stairs?”

She pointed right. “Out the door and down the hall.”

“What’s in the basement? Can we get to the outside from there?”

She nodded. “We arrived through what looked like a service entrance. The driveway sloped down into a large, warehouse-like area. There were lots of boxes and equipment. From there, they took us down a long and narrow walkway…to the rooms where we got dressed.”

“Did you see any men—guards—stationed along the way?”

She bobbed her head. “I saw a couple men standing at different points.”

Nodding, Jacob folded arms and tipped his head back, his eyes shifting left and right at the blank ceiling. We have to assume we’ll come across somebody on the way. Pressing his left arm tighter to his body, he felt the Coonan 1911. If I have to use this baby, it’ll be like sending out a homing beacon. He had half thought about bringing the Ruger SR22 and Silent-SR; however, he opted for power over stealth. His eyebrows rose and fell. Maybe I should’ve gone with the Ruger.

Jacob eyed Felicity. “And you’re sure you can find your way back to this service entrance?”

She glanced at the floor and came back to him. “I’m positive.”

He glimpsed her sexy clothing, from slinky dress to sky-high stiletto boots. “I hate to ask you this.” He hesitated. “If we run into any men on the way, we,” his eyes went down and up the length of her body, “might be able to use how you look—and what they think you’re here to do—as a distraction…as a way to get close, so I can take them out quietly.”

Felicity slowly nodded. “I understand. Do what you think is necessary.”

“I just wanted you to know, so you’re not taken off guard if I…you know…have to…”

After a quick glance at the rug, where she had been standing, when he lifted the strap on her dress, covering her exposed breast, she smiled at him. “You’ve been a gentleman thus far.” She gestured at his ear, and the communication device inside. “And Amber thinks the world of you, so…I’m not worried.”

He pursed his lips and nodded his head. “All right then. Stay close to me, and be ready to drop,” he spread the left side on his jacket, revealing the 357 Magnum under his arm, “if I have to use this, okay?”

Felicity spied the weapon and took a deep breath.

He touched her lower back and swung an arm toward the door. “Let’s go.”

… … … … …

8:33 p.m.

Having taken a glass of champagne from a passing waiter a few minutes earlier, Amber brought the flute to her lips, but never consumed the beverage inside. She ambled closer to the main archway, stopping periodically to smile at people and listen to their conversations. Her mind went back to movies she had watched, and she smiled inwardly. I think I’m faking it with the best of them.

She placed the goblet on a waiter’s tray and sneaked out of the main hall.

“Miss Jones.”

Amber headed for the front door.

“Miss Jones.”

Reaching for the long handle, a hand clamped around her elbow. She spun around and arched her eyebrows. Crap. She had not recognized the name Jacob used when he introduced her to the event’s host.

“Are you leaving so soon, Miss Jones?”

Her heart rate skyrocketing, she casually took her arm back from Xavier and flashed a brief smile. “No, I…I was just…stepping outside for some air.” She leaned left and gestured toward the gathering. “With all those people in there, it gets a little stuffy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He put a hand on her back and pushed open one of the big double doors. “I’ll join you.”

She recoiled slightly and inwardly sighed before walking outside. Her thumping heart sounded like drums in her ears. The night-air cooled her warm face and perspiring forehead. You got this, Amber. Just have a relaxed conversation with the old man and…

“Your date seems to have left you unguarded.” Xavier chuckled. “A woman as lovely as you might find herself fending off many advances from...”

Pigs like you?

“…eligible bachelors.”

Faking a giggle, she batted eyelids. “Thank you, Mr. Bergeron.”

“Please call me Xavier.”

… … … … …

Jacob and Felicity hurried down the second-floor hall. She skipped a few times to keep up with him. They turned right, and she pointed. “It’s this way.”

Rounding the second corner, heading left, Jacob glanced over his shoulder, his left hand in contact with the woman in his charge, the other hovering at his midline, ready to draw the Coonan.

“The stairs are on the other side of that door.” She grabbed his hand and pulled.

He took a long stride and wrapped an arm around her stomach from behind. “I’ll go first.” He put his ear to the wooden panel. A few seconds later, he opened the door a crack and peeked down the first flight. Clear. Focusing on the steps below, Jacob reached back. His fingers clamped around a soft part of her body, “Let’s g—” He quickly retracted the hand and clutched her upper arm, a few inches away, “Sorry,” before pulling her into the stairwell.

“That’s okay.”

He glanced over the railing before facing her. “I’m not making a very good first impression, am I?”

Felicity rubbed the tender spot on her breast. “I still consider you a gentleman.” She stole a peek toward the first floor. “I just hope your aim with your gun is better than it is with your hand.”

He flashed a smile. “You have no need to worry about that, Miss McNeil.”

“Felicity.”

He nodded. “Let’s get going, Felicity. And try not to make any noise. I’d prefer to get out of here without having to prove my accuracy.”

Arriving at the next landing, Felicity pointed. “That door,” she whispered, “leads to the room where we first met, the room where the bidding took place.”

“Okay. Keep going.” The two descended another flight. Clutching her elbow, Jacob turned around and leaned right to see the landing below. So far so good. His grip slid to her hand, and he tugged.

Reaching the basement, specifically, a wide-open room that received a scant amount of ambient light, the duo stopped. Jacob dipped his forehead toward two doors across the expanse and lifted his eyebrows at her.

Pointing, she pulled on the hand holding hers and led him around a long table and down an aisle, stopping at an archway; the hallway on the other side was darker than the room. Facing him and looking over his right shoulder, she put her left arm around his back and her lips to his ear. “The service entrance,” she whispered, “is all the way down and to the le—”

“What are you doing down here?” said a man’s voice.

Jacob and Felicity stood still, frozen in place.

His back to the voice, Jacob got her attention. His right hand slowly slipping inside his coat, he bobbed his eyes downward. Remember…drop to the floor…if I have to…

She glimpsed the 1911’s locked-back hammer before her eyes went lower, to her clothing and legwear. Jacob’s words came to her mind:

“I hate to ask you this.” He hesitated. “…we might be able to use how you look…as a way to get close, so I can take them out quietly.”

“Did you hear me?” The man’s voice echoed off the walls. “No one is allowed in this area.”

Jacob’s hand went deeper under his jacket.

Felicity slid fingers over his gun hand, pulled on the back of his neck and turned her head, her lips brushing across his cheek before she gave him a deep kiss.

The man strode toward them.

Her lips mashed against his, her fingers weaving through his hair, Jacob shifted his eyes away from hers. He listened to the heavy footfalls, gauging their distance.

Felicity took his face in her free hand.

He looked at her.

She flicked her eyes twice over his right shoulder and poked her tongue into his mouth once to drive home her point.

“I said…no one is allowed,” the oncoming man dropped a heavy hand onto Jacob’s left shoulder, “in—”

Jacob and Felicity’s lips separated, and he spun around and sent a vicious left elbow into his opponent’s ear.

The man’s hand shot to the side of his bearded face, while the other fumbled near his beltline.

“Sorry,” Jacob grabbed the man’s searching wrist, yanked the arm down and, “I can’t allow that,” drove a knee into the back of the elbow.

Beard howled and staggered backward, while holding the dangling limb.

Jacob delivered an open-hand strike to the Adam’s apple.

Beard grabbed his throat with his good hand.

Jacob pummeled his adversary, landing three quick punches—right cross, left cross, belly blow—finishing with another left cross.

Beard countered with a feeble roundhouse punch.

Jacob ducked under the strike, took him to the floor, straddled his chest and bounced his head off the concrete. The fight ended after the third whack. He jumped up and scanned the room.

Felicity winced at the motionless bulk. “Is he dead?”

Curling arms under the man’s knees, “I…” Jacob grunted, dragged the heavy mass into a dark corner and let go of the legs, “don’t think so.” He found a black sheet and threw the covering over the prone form. “But we need to,” he took her arm, “speed things up.” The two rushed through the archway and down the dark hallway.

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

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