Nowhere to Run by Debra Webb, Becky Padilla, Valerie Cartwright, Jody T. Uyanik, Stacy Mays
Chapter One
Sophie Phillips turned off her computer and surveyed her desk one last time. There was absolutely nothing left to do. She glanced at her watch and huffed a blast of frustration. It was Friday, 5:55 p.m. In a mere five minutes the whole building would go into lockdown mode and then it would be a royal pain to get out of Birmingham's brand-new soaring seventy-story skyscraper. She stood, pushed in her chair and strode from her office. Maybe she should remind Mr. Martin that their time was limited. Everyone else had already left for the weekend, but her boss, the bank's president, had asked her to stay behind for an urgent meeting. Sophie didn't like staying after hours. Not that she didn't trust her boss but it was a clear security violation. She knew it and so did he. After all, he made up the rules. Whatever had come up had to be important, she reminded herself as she moved toward his office. He had never asked her to do anything like this before. She'd worked at Birmingham International Bank since graduating college four years ago. The move to the city's newest high-tech skyscraper, as well as her promotion to second security key last year, had reinforced her faith in the idea that her career was headed not only in the right direction but was also on the fast track. She paused outside the president's office. If only her personal life had such a bright future. Sophie couldn't help herself; she sighed wistfully. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been out on a date. According to her best friend she'd given new meaning to the term "All work and no play." But that wasn't true. She just hadn't met the right guy. Then again, as her friend so liked to remind her, she did spend all her free time with her nose in a book. It was so easy to lose herself in the stories. She could take trips to faraway places, risk life and limb escaping the bad guys and fall head over heels in love with the hero. All without ever leaving her couch. Unfortunately, she couldn't resort to fantasies forever. Eventually she had to face the cold, hard reality that her love life pretty much sucked. It wasn't that she felt unattractive. Her hand went automatically to her glasses and then smoothed over her meticulously arranged bun. There was nothing wrong with her. So what if she wore her skirts a little longer than most women her age. There was nothing wrong with that either. She firmed her resolve and knocked on her boss's office. When the deep, booming sound of Mr. Martin's voice didn't invite her to come in, she rapped on his door once more. Was he on the phone with a disgruntled client? It was a little late for that. A frown inched its way across her brow. He'd told her to wait for his call. Had she misunderstood? Maybe she was supposed to have come to his office long ago? But then, if he'd wanted her to come to his office and she hadn't shown, he would simply have buzzed her on the intercom. Still no answer.
For the first time since they'd moved into the new location she felt a little uneasy. Sixty-nine floors separated her from the lobby. A computerized security system likely tracked her every move. Silence echoed around her and a slow, sinking feeling tugged at her tummy. She raised her hand to knock once more "He's not in his office." Startled, Sophie whipped around to face the source of the masculine voice that came from right behind her. Her gaze collided with a familiar blue one.
Paul Devers. What was he doing here? Before she could stop herself, she shivered. Irritation immediately overwhelmed the little fright she'd experienced at the unexpected sound of his voice. He always had that effect on her made her shiver that way. It drove her crazy. Sure, he was cute okay, he was good-looking. Very good-looking. But she wasn't looking for a mail clerk to fall in love with. No offense. She wanted a hero like the ones in the books she read. She wanted a guy who could rescue her from a burning building as easily as he could do the laundry or prepare dinner. She stifled the need to harrumph. Who was she kidding? Those guys didn't exist outside her fantasies and those woven by skilled romance novelists. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, refusing to acknowledge a single other thing about Paul Devers. Who cared if he was tall, dark and handsome? Who needed a cliché? "Ms. Phillips," he said solemnly, his expression turning suddenly somber, "we have a problem." The abrupt change in his demeanor made her heart beat even faster. Dammit. She absolutely hated that he could manage that feat when every other man she'd ever been attracted to had failed. "What's going on, Mr. Devers? Why are you here and how do you know Mr. Martin isn't in his office. We have a meeting " "You're going to have to listen carefully and trust me, Ms. Phillips." Was it her imagination or had he moved closer? She eased back a step, only to find herself pinned to the door of her boss's office.
"Mr. Devers, you're making me very uncomfortable," she said bluntly, annoyed that her voice trembled slightly. She didn't have to look at her watch to know that it was 6:00 p.m. now. She could feel the change in the very atmosphere around her. The building had gone into lockdown mode. No one would get in or out without calling for the aid of the external security monitoring company, who would, in turn, notify the authorities. Calling might not even be necessary, she decided on second thought. Every thirty minutes the building's computer program ran a thermal scan. The body heat of any humans on the premises would trigger an alarm.
"I don't know if Mr. Martin is involved in this, but I do know that you are, whether you realize it or not." Her frown deepened, furrowing her brow. "Involved in what? Just what are you trying to say?" Paul Devers had clearly lost his mind. Usually the thorough background investigations and grueling psych evaluations conducted on prospective personnel spotted potential problems. Somehow, apparently, Paul Devers had managed to fool the experts. And she was trapped in the building with him...after lockdown. "There are some things you can't know at this point," Devers said with just as much bluntness as she had used earlier. "What I can tell you is that someone plans to use this banking facility to steal millions of dollars and somehow the plan includes you."
His words jolted through her like shockwaves after a devastating earthquake. What he proposed was impossible. Security was too tight. In order to make that kind of transfer, both she and her boss would have to participate. There was no simple combination or computer program that would unlock the security measures. It took DNA. Hers and Mr. Martin's. DNA and an iris scan. "That's impossible," she tossed back, fury boiling to the surface. Whatever game Devers was playing, it wasn't funny. She lifted one eyebrow and glared up at him knowingly. "Even if someone intended to attempt such a thing, the building has gone into lockdown. Any minute now a thermal scan will discover our presence and set off alarms," she added just in case he had just such a plan in mind. How could a nerdy mail clerk be a thief? Her eyes widened with her next thought. What would he do to her if his scheme didn't work? The corridor abruptly went pitch-black. Five seconds later the backup lights kicked on and a dim glow reached eerily through the darkness. "Looks like someone else knows how the bank's security works," Devers suggested. Sophie glanced left then right, her nerves twisting into tight little knots. "What's going on?" Fear slid through her veins. This was real. Too real. "I can't be certain." That deep voice tugged at her senses, urged her to trust. "But I can tell you this, if we don't get out of here. Hide. Escape. Something, we're going to be in big trouble." Escape wasn't a possibility. She knew the impenetrable safeguards in place. They were trapped, unless help came. Hiding might work. But what the hell were they hiding from? And who the hell did this guy think he was? She shook her head and made a sound of disbelief. "Wait. You expect me to believe that you know what you're talking about? Please." He tensed visibly, his gaze snapping to the left. "We have to get out of here. Now!"
Before she could ask what he'd heard she hadn't heard a damned thing he manacled her arm and broke into a dead run. "What are you doing?" He glanced back at her without slowing. "Saving your life."
Chapter Two
As they ran down the hallway, Sophie glanced upward. The security cameras spread throughout her floor, and the entire building, blinked red eyes at her. Why wasn't the backup system working? She had put it in place herself just last week to test the new system with Mr. Martin's permission, of course. It should have come on by now. She had calibrated it specifically for an electrical outage or, heaven forbid, a situation that involved foul play. Sophie tried not to trip over her feet as Paul practically pulled her arm out of its socket hauling her around a corner toward the stairwell. She heaved a silent sigh of relief as the door slammed closed on them, her last view that of a blinking green light on the camera facing the stairwell door. Now, whoever was in the guard room could track their movements through the building. They would be able to find her and bring her to safety. They would be able to get her away from this renegade mail clerk. This really attractive, muscular renegade mail clerk. Sophie marveled that Paul Devers was barely out of breath when he brought them to a crashing halt two stories into their descent. Delivering the mail over 70 floors of skyscraper had really gotten him into shape. "What are ?" Sophie's question was abruptly cut off as Devers placed his hand over her mouth. His hand had an earthy scent that sent Sophie's heart racing. He pressed her against the wall and leaned in altogether too closely and whispered in her ear, "We have to speak quietly. Sound will carry in these stairwells. We are heading to the sixty-fifth floor. Can you make it?"
Could she make it? Sure, she spent most of her time working long hours and reading voraciously, but she was young younger than he was of course she could handle five floors.
Sophie nodded. Devers took her hand and flew down the stairs in front of them. One floor after another passed in a concrete-and-metal blur. Three flightstwo flightsand then she heard it. A loud crash that began from somewhere above her and reverberated through the concrete corridor. Devers pulled her against him, pressing her between himself and the wall in what she belatedly realized was a protective hold. A sense of warmth rushed through her, a combination of trust, gratitude and an attraction she usually reserved for her fictional heroes. She had developed an unexpected sense of trust for this man. When he reached behind his back and pulled out a gun, Sophie gasped. Just who were the bad guys here? The ones above her or the one pressed against her holding a weapon that looked like something she had read about the night before? Devers whirled to face her. "Do you know how to access the C24 door?" Sophie's eyes widened. "That is a confidential access doorway. How do you know about it?" Sophie's questioning was interrupted by another crash above. Grabbing her hand, Devers wordlessly pulled her down the last two flights of stairs and through the stairwell doorway that deposited them onto the sixty-fifth floor. Down the hall to the left and around the corner just behind the supply closet was the C24 access doorway. It was an emergency escape that led from the main floor to a passageway midway between floors. True, it would give them a place to hide, if they were hiding from the bad guys.
But, if Sophie was being dragged around the building by the actual bad guy, she would then be stuck inside with him without any security cameras, backup or otherwise. She considered bolting, running with all her might down the stairwell. She had never tried to go down sixty-five flights of stairs, but there was always a first time. Just then, Devers grasped her arm and pulled her down the hallway to the left, as if he knew exactly where he was going. Unwilling to go any farther without some kind of explanation, Sophie yanked her arm out of his grasp and commanded his attention. "What the hell is going on here? Who are you and how do you know about the C24 access door?" She pointed nervously toward his gun. "And why are you carrying that?" His gaze bore right through her. For a moment, it seemed as if he was debating explaining anything to her at all. She could see his moment of decision in the set of his square, strong jaw. "My name is Paul Devers. I am an undercover FBI agent. I am here to protect you and stop a multimillion-dollar bank theft, of which you appear to be a pawn. If we don't move now, you could die." Well, that was one explanation. Something in his tone commanded Sophie's trust. Rushing past him, she raced to the C24 access door. Suddenly, there was another loud noise behind them. Apparently, the bad guys were not worried about being heard. Arriving at a smaller version of a regular door, Sophie keyed in the access code for C24. She swung open the door only to be greeted by a familiar voice. "Thank goodness you're all right." Mr. Martin reached out a hand toward her.
Chapter Three
"Mr. Martin!" Sophie's gray eyes widened in shock as she stood in the doorway of the access hallway staring at her boss. "What are you doing here?" Before he could answer, another crash sounded, louder and closer than before. Paul's hand was at her back, pushing her through the door. "Sophie, what's going on?" As usual, her boss radiated confidence and control. It was a trait she strove to emulate, though presently, she was failing miserably. Mr. Martin's eyes were cool and assessing as he watched Devers rearm the door. He placed his hand on her arm, stepping between Paul and Sophie. "Who is this man?" "Paul Devers. He's " "A mail clerk." Paul shot Sophie a look that made her cut off any other explanation. "I was on Ms. Phillips's floor when the lights went out. She was waiting for you." "Of course. The meeting. I was on my way when Security alerted me of a malfunction in one of the alarm systems," her boss explained. "Evidently there's a glitch in the backup system you installed earlier this week. We'll know what went wrong " "It's not a glitch Mr. Martin. We are being chased." Mr. Martin's smile was warm and reassuring. "It's only Security. They told me there were intruders on the sixty-ninth floor after lockdown. I'm glad to see it's only you." A loud thud sounded at the door. Devers grabbed Sophie's hand and jerked her down the hallway. "Come on." He left her no option as he pulled her behind him. As they rounded a sharp corner Sophie was yanked to a stop. Mr. Martin's surprisingly strong hands locked around her other arm. Yelping in pain, Sophie felt her shoulder wrench. Devers spun around, his blue eyes iced in warning.
Sophie's boss immediately released her. "That's a dead end." Mr. Martin motioned to the passageway that branched off to the left. "This way." Before Devers could answer, an explosion erupted behind them, knocking Mr. Martin into the wall and Sophie into Paul. She caught a glimpse of Mr. Martin sliding to the floor, his hands cradling his head as she fell, wrapped in Paul's arms. He landed underneath her, breaking her fall. With a roll and a gentle shove, he forced her around the corner. "Are you okay?" His mouth was next to her ear, but his voice sounded as if he were speaking through ten feet of water. He shifted, framing her face between his hands. "Sophie, are you all right?" The fear in his eyes registered through the fog in her mind and the smoke in the passageway. "Yes." Her voice was small, shaky. "Good." And he was up and pulling her after him. A sharp pain stabbed through her shoulder as she staggered to her feet. Sophie gripped Paul's hand and blinked back tears from the smoke and the burning sensation radiating down her arm. Swallowing her fear and pain, she ran as if the devil himself were chasing her. Paul stopped abruptly at another access door. "Listen carefully. I'm going to open this door and motion for you to follow me. Do not let this door close behind you: step halfway through the doorway. I'm coming right back." "Wait. Mr. Martin he was hurt. We need to go back." "Going back won't help him, but it will put you at greater risk. Ready?" No. Absolutely not. "Yes." Paul pushed the handle, the lock clicking in release, and stepped into another dim hallway. Sophie followed as instructed. She watched as Paul swiveled his head from left to right and then motioned for her to join him. She nodded and advanced slightly. He ran forward, jumped and came back down with one of the tiny, camouflaged security cameras in his hands, freshly ripped from the ceiling. He tossed it down the stairwell and rejoined Sophie.
Quickly, he guided her back the way they had come, ducking into the dark shadows of a narrow, connecting passage. "What are you doing?" Sophie found herself whispering against his chest as he pressed her between two steel girders. She was crushed against him from knees to shoulders. His voice was at her ear, barely audible. "This passageway connects to the stairwells on each side of the building. An alarm notifies Security whenever this passage is accessed and is automatically monitored by the security camera outside that quadrant. I want them to think we left this area. The door had to open and close only once to reinforce that idea." "But the thermal scan " "Isn't for another 20 minutes." "How are " The crackle of a handset radio and the slap of hard footsteps froze the words in her throat.
From the other side of the door, Sophie heard, "They're out the door and have disabled a camera." "Go. Don't lose them." Sophie's entire body jolted at the words and her hands fisted around Paul's shirt in panic. His hands clamped around her hips, holding her steady while her heart tried to break through the frail jail of her ribs. He pressed his cheek against her temple. "Shhh." It was a sound of comfort, like one would use to calm a frightened child after a nightmare. Sophie understood, for she had been stalked through dreams by formless, nameless demons before. "Contact me as soon as you have them. There's no way out of this building without being tracked," said Mr. Martin. There would be no waking from this nightmare because this time the nightmare had a name and face she knew, respected and trusted. Mr. Martin.
Chapter Four
As the sound of footsteps faded, Paul remained still for a few more seconds then exhaled. "They're gone. For now." He looked at his watch. "We've got a few more minutes until the next thermal scan. Although after the power failure and the explosion, who knows if it's even working." He looked down at Sophie, and frowned. She had closed her eyes and slid down to sit on the floor. He watched in concern as she drew her knees up under her long skirt, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of slim ankles. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked forward. He knelt down next to her, noticing that her usually neat bun had slipped to one side. Long tendrils of blond hair had escaped to frame her face. He couldn't help reaching out to caress one soft curl, and then gently smooth it back behind her ear. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice huskier than intended. She sighed and rested her chin on her knees. "I still can't believe it. Not Mr. Martin. Why would he?" Her voice broke. "I looked up to him. Wanted to be like him." Paul sat down and put one arm around her, pulling her close. He was glad when she relaxed into his embrace. Maybe she trusted him now. More likely, she was just in shock. Whatever the reason, it felt good to hold her. He had been fighting his attraction to her for weeks, wondering if she were part of the scheme. Today, he'd decided to follow his gut instinct and assume she was legit. And he'd been right. He cupped her chin with his free hand, urging her to look at him. Her gray eyes were wide and questioning, and for a moment he lost his train of thought. His mind filled with an image of him slowly removing her glasses and
He cleared his throat. "Sophie, I know this has been a big shock. But I have to figure a way out of here, and I can't do it without you." She searched his face for a moment, and then nodded. "How can I help?" "Good," he said, feeling a rush of admiration. Other women might have crumbled, but not Sophie. "Now, let's review what we know. According to my sources, someone wants to steal money today from this facility by transferring funds to an offshore account. As I understand it, they will need both you and Martin to complete the job, right?" "Yes, any wire transfer over a certain amount requires verification of our DNA as well as an iris scan." Sophie pushed her glasses back into place, and automatically straightened her bun. He wanted to tell her to leave her appearance alone. He liked her this way. More relaxed, moreaccessible. Get a grip, he told himself sternly. "Is there any way they can bypass that? Maybe fake the scan?" Sophie shrugged. "I didn't think anyone could get this far with our security system, so who knows? Maybe. But it would take some work. They might as well" She stopped and looked at him. He knew what she'd intended to say. They might as well use her and save themselves the trouble.
"So, that means they'll keep looking for you," Paul said grimly. He automatically checked that his gun was tucked in his belt. He shook his head in frustration. "Martin can't be doing this alone. He's got help. But who is it?" He debated whether to tell her about the shadowy character known as the Spider. "Think," he urged. "Has anyone been in Martin's office a lot lately? Has he been taking calls, going to meetings? Any recent business trips?" Sophie sighed. "I'm not his secretary, so I don't know his schedule, but"
"What? What is it?" He squeezed her shoulder in encouragement. "It's probably nothing." She moved as if to stand, and he helped her. She smoothed her skirt, and straightened her blouse. Paul swallowed his impatience, trying not to give in to pressure from the ticking of the proverbial clock. "The consultant that Mr. Martin hired for the new encryption software. I had recommended another company, but Mr. Martin insisted on this guy. Maybe I'm just miffed because my ideas were ignored. But I don't like him. He's just so arrogant. Anyway, I'm just grasping at straws, I guess." She gave a helpless laugh and turned to face him. Paul's mind raced. There was only so much information a mail clerk could glean from lurking in corridors and hanging around the water cooler. It felt good to be able to ask direct questions and compare notes with someone with access to vital industry information and knowledge about the company's employees. Not just someone, but Sophie. Sweet, smart, sensational Sophie. "What do you know about this consultant? What's his name?" "Ethan Quinn. Boy wonder," Sophie said sarcastically. "He started his first company when he was only seventeen. Of course, that was the year the rumors started about his" Her voice broke off and she flushed. "Sorry, I was getting off the subject." He gave a crooked grin. "Wait a minute. Don't leave me hanging. Rumors about what?" She hesitated. "Not what. Whom. Ethan's mom. She was a debutante back in her day. A true Southern belle, until Later, she became known as the Black Widow of Birmingham."
Paul stood very still. Could the connection be that simple? Was Quinn the elusive "Spider" the bureau had been tracking? He grabbed Sophie's arms, laughing softly in exultation. He pulled her to him and gave her a quick kiss. "Sophie, my love, you are a genius!" She looked completely flustered, and he laughed again quietly. "Come on, let's get out of here. Does Ethan Quinn use an office here?" "Yes. On the fifty-ninth floor, but" He clasped her hand and turned, but she stopped. "The thermal scan," she said. "What do we do if it still works?" He looked at his watch and sighed. "Well, we've got about ten seconds to find out."
Chapter Five
"Ten seconds! Oh, God. What are we going " Sophie's voice died as an idea popped into her head. "The cafeteria. Run!" Sophie flung open the access door and sprinted down the hallway. Paul didn't have any choice but to follow. He tried not to think about the cameras that were probably tracking them. He caught up with her just as she burst through the door leading to the employee cafeteria. "Sophie, what the hell are we doing in here?" he demanded as they snaked through the tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. She didn't bother to answer him as she raced through the double doors that separated the cafeteria from the kitchen. There wasn't time for explanations. Paul faltered as comprehension dawned on him; he saw that Sophie was headed in the direction of the walk-in freezer. "It just might work," he muttered. Paul rushed passed Sophie to the door and yanked it open, pushed her inside, dove in and closed the door with half a second to spare. They both braced themselves for the piercing sound of the alarms that would betray their presence. The only sound they heard was a soft whoosh as the breaths they'd both been holding escaped. The Spider sat in the security room and stared at the various monitors set up in the middle of the room. Images of empty hallways and offices shifted constantly on the screens, the only consistency being that she was not in any of them. He slammed his fist on the table. "Dammit, where is she?" He paced back and forth, his eyes growing icy as his frustration grew. "This is your fault!" He snarled. "You were supposed to make sure no one from the FBI could track us here."
Chapter Five
"I took every precaution, every step necessary to ensure our success here," a decidedly female voice responded from across the room. "Then why is Devers here? He's helping her. How did he know?" the Spider yelled, barely suppressing his murderous rage. The woman walked over to the Spider, careful not to trip over the body of the security guard as she crossed the room. "Honey, you need to calm down. Think. How did they bypass the thermal scan?" "I don't know. The scan should have detected their body heat Wait." Grinning, he turned to the man who'd been sitting next to him. "Mr. Martin, what floor is the employee cafeteria on?" "Th-the sixty-fifth." Martin stammered, uneasiness evident in his voice. The Spider grabbed the gun from the desk. "Watch him, don't let him leave this room," the Spider ordered the woman as he left the room. As the door closed, the Black Widow turned and smirked at Martin. Martin cringed. He imagined that was exactly how a wolf looked just before she killed her prey. Paul paced the confines of the freezer. "We need to get to Ethan Quinn's office." "What? Why? They could be waiting for us. No, we need to get out of the building somehow. We need " Sophie stopped abruptly, her thoughts taking a new direction. "Why would you want to go to Quinn's office? What could you possibly find Oh my god!" She debated telling him about the encryption code. Something in her still didn't trust this mail clerk turned FBI agent. But he'd helped her escape Mr. Martin. Still, he might just have other motives for helping her. "N-nothing. Forget it."
Paul sensed her hesitation. This was no time for secrets and misplaced loyalties. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he gave her a firm shake. "Dammit, Sophie. Don't you get it? If they catch you they'll take the money, then they'll tie up all the loose ends. You are a loose end." Paul hated himself for instigating the fear that filled Sophie's eyes, the same fear that made his heart clench at the thought of her being hurt. He cared about her too much to allow that to happen. "Sophie," he said, forcing himself to keep his voice calm. "I need for you to trust me. That's the only way were going to get out of here alive." "Why should I trust you? I trusted Mr. Martin and where did that get me? I " Whatever she was about to say was cut off when Paul placed his hands on both sides of her face and lowered his mouth to hers. Sophie's pulse raced as he kissed her, his mouth moving over hers with a need so strong it stunned them both. She wished he would never stop kissing her, wished this feeling would never end. Paul broke off the kiss. "Trust me" he urged.
Sophie sighed. Sometimes you had to follow your gutand your heart. "Okay. As the consultant for the new encryption software, Quinn has a code that allows him access to the system. He keeps it in a safe in his office."
"But he would still need you and Martin to complete the transaction?" asked Paul. "Yes." Sophie paced, trying to make some sense out of the whole mess. She came to an abrupt halt. "Wait! It's possible he was able to add a second code to the software. One that would allow him to complete any transaction he wanted. But, then why would he need meor Martin, for that matter?" "I don't know, but we'll find out. We need to get the code." Sophie shivered. The cold in the freezer was settling in her bones, but she suspected it was the warmth that Paul's presence brought to her body that had caused the involuntary reaction. Get a hold of yourself, she sternly reminded herself. Gathering her senses, Sophie thought about their predicament. "Paul, why would Ethan do this?" "Pure old-fashioned greed, I guess." A voice laced with icy hatred startled them both. Paul thrust Sophie behind him so that he was between her and the man who'd stepped into the walk-in freezer and aimed a gun at them. "Who the hell are you?" Paul asked. The man grinned menacingly and without humor. "I'm sorry. I guess we haven't been formally introduced. I'm Ethan Quinn, but my friends call me Spider."
Chapter Six
The Spider. Well, hell. All this time the Bureau had been looking for the guy and he'd been right here in Birmingham under their proverbial noses. Nothing like hiding in plain sight, Paul mused. What made the whole situation even more perfect was the idea that Paul himself had been working this case for what felt like ages, and now he'd found his preyonly it wasn't quite working out the way he'd planned. His fingers tightened into hard fists of determination. No way in hell was he letting this guy hurt Sophie, and he damned sure wasn't going to allow him to escape, either. "I'd say it's a pleasure," Paul said to the smirking man holding the weapon trained on his chest, "but lying isn't my style." "Really?" Quinn the Spider made a sound that he likely considered humorous. "Is that why Ms. Phillips believed you were a mere mail clerk all this time? Isn't lying part of your job description, Special Agent Devers?" Paul felt Sophie stiffen behind him. He didn't want her trust in him to wane. That trust was the one thing he would need if he had any chance of keeping her alive. "Semantics, Quinn," Paul tossed back at him. "I had no idea you were so interested in my career. I thought you came here to steal other people's money. Isn't that what you do?"
The smirk on Quinn's face vanished instantly. "Let's go." He gestured toward the door with his nine millimeter. He tilted his head to get a look at Sophie, who still hovered behind Paul. "Ms. Phillips and I have work to do." "And if she refuses?" Paul blocked Sophie's path with his arm. "Then she dies." Sophie's gasp of terror made Paul's jaw clench. Damn, he wanted to hurt this heartless bastard. But if he went for his weapon "I'll do whatever you say," Sophie insisted, her voice trembling. Her gaze met Paul's and he saw the absolute fear there before she turned back to Quinn. "Just don't hurt us." Another smirk quirked Quinn's lips. "You do exactly as I tell you, Ms. Phillips, and you have nothing to worry about." His attention jerked back to Paul. "But he's another story."
Realization dawned, and Paul reached for his weapontoo late. The echo of the shot exploding in the air reached Paul's ears a split second before the impact of the bullet slammed him against the cold, concrete floor. He told himself to get upto protect herbut he couldn't. Sophie's scream was the last thing he heard before the darkness took him. Sophie fought the brutal arms entrapping her. Paul. Dear God. Hehe wasn't moving. "I have to help him!" "He won't be needing your help," Quinn snarled as he dragged her from the freezer. "He won't be needing anything from anyone." A sob rose in her throat, swelled there and blocked any hope of breathing. She didn't want to cry. She wanted to kill the madman dragging her away. Her entire body trembled with shock or adrenaline or both. And there was nothing she could do. Paul had died trying to protect her. Nothing she could do. Something hot and vicious knotted inside her, then expanded, pushing away the weaker emotions. She would not allow Paul's sacrifice to have been in vain. She would stop this evil mansomehow. All she needed was a plan. By the time they reached Quinn's office Sophie felt a kind of dead calm. A steadiness borne of pure, unadulterated hatred. Her mind had played over and over the sweet kiss she and Paul had shared. He had been a real hero one straight out of the books she loved. She had found and lost him all in the same hour. And now someone would pay. Mr. Martin sat in one of the upholstered chairs flanking Quinn's desk. It startled Sophie when their gazes collided. She saw terror there, stark and vivid. Could she have been wrong about him? She shook off the thought. Immediately replaced it with sheer hatred. He was part of this part of what had taken a good man's life.
Before she could say those very words to her boss a feminine voice broke into her murderous thoughts, "Well, well. I see you found the other half of our key." The Black Widow. The mother was just like her son, beautiful in a vile sort of way. So she was in on this as well. But how? Sophie had never seen her at the bank. Wasn't she supposed to be in prison somewhere? Or maybe she'd fled the countryit had been in all the newspapers. "Did you expect otherwise, Mother?" the evil spawn asked of the woman standing over Mr. Martin as if guarding a prisoner. The woman laughed, a sound so sinister a shiver went through Sophie. "Of course not," she said. "You're too much like me to fail." She looked straight at Sophie as if she'd read her mind moments ago. "And even if you were to get caught, you'd just reinvent yourself and start over." So that's how she managed to get away with her exploits. She had eluded the authorities and assumed a new identity. Sophie's determination increased a hundredfold. She would end thissomehow. She would do it for Paul. "Just tell me what you want me to do, and let's get this over with." Sophie glared at her boss. "Then the three of you can get out of here and live happily ever after." Mr. Martin's gaze turned pleading. "Sophie, you have to believe me! I'm not part of this! I thought you were. Quinn told me that you were working with someone to embezzle funds. When I saw you with Devers, I thought he was your partner!" Renewed fury flooded Sophie. "You expect me to believe that? Paul is dead! Your friend here killed him!" Pallor slid over Mr. Martin's face. "Dear God." His frantic gaze swung to Quinn. "Is that true? What have you people gotten me into?" The laughter coming from the sick gene pool in charge sent a new epiphany charging through Sophie. Mr. Martin was telling the truth. He had been used, just like her. "Did you really think a woman like me would care about an old goat like you?" The Widow purred hatefully. "Please. You were merely a means to an end." Now it made sense. No wonder Mr. Martin had been so friendly to Quinn; he'd been courting his mother, trying to impress her. Mr. Martin had been widowed for years. Had his loneliness overwhelmed his judgment?
Quinn shoved Sophie toward the computer terminal on Mr. Martin's desk. "He's done his part. Now you verify the transaction and the transfer will be made." It wasn't until that moment that Sophie saw the dead body on the floor. One of the security guards. Had they all been murdered as well? Nausea roiled in her stomach. Like Mr. Martin, they had been used. They had been led to believe that Sophie and Paul were intruders. Once they were no longer needed, they had been eliminated. At that precise moment, she realized that she, too, was going to die. There was nowhere to run, no place to hide. No way she or Mr. Martin would be allowed to live. Her heart ached again at the thought of Paul. She pushed the pain aside. She couldn't bring him back. Couldn't stop these evil people from killing both her and Mr. Martin. But she could keep them from getting what they wanted. That she could do. And she would do it for Paul. Quinn forced her down into Mr. Martin's leather executive chair. "All you have to do is verify what Martin has already set up," he repeated. He pressed the cold steel tip of the weapon to her temple. "Now do it." Sophie sat very still for the iris scan, then pressed her thumb to the analyzer that would verify her DNA. The gentle prick and verification took mere seconds. She was in. She said one final prayer before her fingers began to fly over the keys, ultimately signing her own death warrant. The screen momentarily froze then flashed a fault warning. The blinking light brought a knowing smile to her lips. She'd done it. "What the hell is that?" Quinn screamed, boring the weapon deeper into her skull. "That " she looked up at him, her smile stretching even wider at his red-faced fury " is the end game, Mr. Quinn." "Get him over here!" he screamed at his mother, who immediately prodded Mr. Martin to his feet with another ugly weapon very much like the one digging into Sophie's flesh. "What the hell has she done?" Mr. Martin took one look at the screen and started to laugh. "She's beaten you." He looked to the woman holding the gun on him. "Both of you. No one can get into the system now. She tripped the warning system. The authorities will be here any minute. Why the hell didn't I think of that?" "And you'll be dead." Quinn's aim swung in Mr. Martin's direction.
Sophie screamed and threw herself against Quinn. A shot rang out. Then another. Quinn shoved her away from him and pushed to his feet, his weapon seeking a target. "Don't move or you'll join your mother," a familiar voice warned. "Drop your weapon." Sophie's heart leapt. Paul! She wanted to run to himbut something in his eyes kept her still. This situation wasn't completely under control yet. The Black Widow lay sprawled on the floor, dead or unconscious, Sophie couldn't be sure, but an ever-widening pool of red was spreading across her chest. The second shot had apparently been Paul's. "Drop it, Quinn," Paul commanded, leveling his aim right between the bastard's eyes. His gaze never leaving his mother, Quinn dropped his weapon. Mr. Martin rushed to claim it. "Give it to me," Paul ordered. His hands shaking, Mr. Martin hastened to obey, then cowered behind Paul. "Now " Paul shifted his attention to Sophie " walk all the way around the desk and come to me." His voice was no longer commanding but gentle and reassuring. She scrambled up and rushed to him, taking care to go wide around Quinn, who appeared to be in some sort of shock. "I thought you were dead!" she cried against Paul's chest. He groaned and she drew back. "Are you hurt?" She looked for blood on his shirt. "Just bruised. Kevlar vest," he explained.
"Thank God!" She had to lean against him, had to feel his warmth and strength. He was alive. She was alive. That's all that mattered. The next thing Sophie knew the police were swarming. Another FBI agent had arrived to take charge. Quinn, the Spider, had been taken away. The Black Widow was alive and had been rushed to the hospital under close guard by the local authorities. Both Mr. Martin and Paul had been checked out by the EMTs. All three had given their official statements. Now the calm, quiet of the elevator seemed surreal after the storm. Sophie closed her weary eyes and sagged against the wall as the car made its long descent down to the lobby. Paul had insisted on seeing her to her car. "There's just one thing," he suddenly said, his deep voice making shivery sensations dance over her skin. She somehow managed to open her eyes. "What's that?" For just a moment there she'd been dreaming that this might not be the endbut a new beginning. How foolish. This wasn't fiction; it was real life. She was lucky to be alive. He pushed the stop button on the elevator, forcing it to a jarring halt. Sophie's breath caught as he turned back to her. His shirt lay open, his chest exposed where he'd had to bare it for the EMT's examination. The life-saving vest had been discarded, leaving ridged masculine terrain that made her throat go dry.
Her heart started to pound as he moved closer and closer, finally bracing his hands on either side of her and leaning in close. "I think you and I have some unfinished business?" "You mean there's more to this story?" she asked, her voice husky with desire, her soul clinging to renewed hope. One corner of that sexy mouth hitched up in a heart-stopping smile. "Oh, yeah, baby, a whole hell of a lot more." And then he kissed her, and the world tilted. Not just any old kiss, eitherone that promised much, much moreperhaps even forever.