“Fuck,” Kyle muttered, taking aim again at Junior as the guards started falling down around him.
Tara checked through another hole she’d created in the wall, saying, “I’ve got this.”
I continued watching through my peephole as Junior jumped from his seat, heading toward the rail, searching for the enemy.
Tara climbed around the railing from our box.
He must’ve heard her, because he spun around, and as he did, Tara aimed and fired her tranq gun, right in his neck. He reached for his gun, and Tara gripped the rail and bounded over, legs first, knocking him against the wall. He crashed to the floor, his gun sliding from his grasp as Tara landed beside him.
“Go time,” I told Kyle, and he rushed out the door to fetch our target.
I put my arm around Ty and guided him out of the box. Leaving him in the hall, I headed in and helped Tara secure zip ties around the guards’ wrists and ankles.
“That was risky,” I told her.
“That wasfabulous,” she assured me, and since it had worked, I figured I could give her grief about it later.
“Done deal,” Kyle announced as he headed out of the box with the unconscious Junior draped over his shoulder.
As soon as Tara and I finished binding everyone, we joined Kyle and Ty in the hall. “Heading to the exit, Mick.”
“Escape vehicle is ready and waiting, guys,” he replied. “Security’s searching for the cause of the fire alarm, but no one suspects anything. They think it might have had to do with the power outage from before. When you get to the exit, my thermographic camera’s indicating you have three guards there right now. Once you’ve taken them out, I’ll give you the all clear.”
We followed the agreed-upon path. A reminder that so far, things were working well for us.
“These guys are going to figure out soon something’s up,” Mick said, “so you’d better move fast.”
“Always do,” I replied.
“Well, not exactlyalways,” Ty joked.
Normally, I would have laughed, but I feared we were getting too comfortable with our victory.
“Sometimes I think this kid’s a real dick,” Kyle said, “and sometimes I like him.”
“Okay, everybody, don’t act like we’re in the clear yet, not until we’re actually out of here with this guy.”
We hurried down another set of steps, the fire alarm still blaring, and I checked around the corner toward the back exit. Four guards—another must’ve swung by to join them.
“Guys,” Mick began.
“Yeah, we see the extra guy,” I informed him.
The guards chatted with one another, obviously still not clued in on our operation.
“Tara, I’m tipsy,” I said. Tara nodded, and she and I walked around the corner. I fell against her, moaning.
“I’m sorry, is this an exit?” Tara asked as we approached.
“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”
“Oh, did you hear that, honey? He called mema’am,” Tara told me, still in character. She chuckled. “Thank you. Sorry, my husband’swastedright now, and—”
When we reached the first guard, I kicked his legs out from under him. While the remaining three reached for their guns, Tara whirled around and elbowed one in the throat before thrusting her fist into another’s face, throwing him back to the wall just in time for the one behind him to shoot a round into his friend.
“Fuck!” he called, aiming at me.
I moved quickly, stepping out of the barrel’s path, disarming him and head-butting him so hard, he fell onto the floor.
