By the end, I’m feeling a little tingly about the nose and I’m obviously having some sort of allergic reaction to the clouds of perfume because my eyes are watering.
A couple of representatives from the Harris Peppard Trust push past me carrying an oversized cheque showing the figure raised by this evening so far.One of them says a few words and thanks Dylan for his patronage.He turns to exchange air kisses with him, only for all the lights to blink out.
Gasps of surprise from the audience quickly transform into exasperated sighs, when the situation doesn’t immediately resolve itself.Someone wolf whistles, another makes a crude joke, and someone else calls out not to panic, and “if everyone could please remain calm and in their seats then the presentations will continue momentarily once the power is restored.It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes, and at least we have candlelight.”
Everyone is staring at the little dancing flames in the centres of each table when the first gunshot rings out.
Panic erupts.More shots are fired.It’s impossible to figure out more than a general direction from which the danger is coming.I don’t recall racing onto the stage, but I’m there in front of Dylan blocking his body from harm as I guide him into the wings.
“What’s going on?”
The two charity reps follow us backstage into the web of corridors.Thank God I made a recon of the area earlier.
“I’m not sure, but there’s a security team in place.They’ll handle it.I need to get you out of here.”I grasp hold of his hand in order to make sure I don’t lose him in the chaos.People are running back and forth, and colliding with one another in the dark.Squeals of shock and I suspect pain, make it difficult to determine what’s occurring and how significant the danger level remains.
“I need to get you out of the building.”
“You think I’m the target?”Dylan asks.Even when I’ve got us away from the pool of backstage staff he continues to cling on tight to my hand.It makes it difficult to function.
“Until there’s evidence to the contrary, that’s exactly what I’m assuming.”It would also seem to be the most likely explanation given the notes he’s received and my assignment.I don’t get why he has such trouble wrapping his head around that possibility.There are certainly people amongst the guests tonight that have a far from healthy interest in his person.
“I can’t run and leave everyone behind, Kira.”
“Yes,” I insist, “you can, and you will.You’re no use to anyone if you wind up dead.Don’t fuck with me, Dylan.Now isn’t the time for you to be a hero.Keep right on moving.”
I find the exit onto the stairwell and push him through it.There’s a sign on the wall visible thanks to the illumination from the streetlights outside.The parking level is three flights down.
We still have the two charity reps muddling along behind us, the foremost one of whom is still carrying the oversized cheque that was being presented.It makes a soft wafting sound whenever he takes a step.
“Drop that,” I tell him.“It’s only for show.You can’t cash it at the bank.”Then, “Wait!”as he crouches to put it down.There’s a hole straight through the centre of the second R in Harris.I catch and hold Dylan’s gaze.Now will you believe me you’re the intended target?It’s a miracle he’s not wounded or worse.
He remains stoically resilient.
The charity reps look scared.They don’t understand why this is happening to them.Tonight was supposed to be an evening of celebration, now potentially their donors and major supporters are being injured or worse thanks to their generosity.
I kick off my preposterously cumbersome heels before leading the procession down to sub-level one.At the bottom, I get the three of them to hang tight together as I scope out the situation in the car park.I don’t like leaving Dylan unattended, but I don’t want to walk him straight into danger either.
There’s no light down here, only inky darkness.Even the emergency lighting is out.Judging by the crunch of glass on the tarmac, someone came down here with a baseball bat.
I have no fucking clue where in this hanger to find Johns and our ride out of here.That’s assuming my All Stars colleague is still in his post.An alarming series of snapshot images of the blond guy slumped over the wheel of the sedan flashes through my mind.I wonder about Howard Falchard and the rest of the team too.How did the shooter get past them all?I get that we were maintaining a low profile, but, right now, as a team we look incompetent.
I spin sharply at the sound of approaching footsteps from my rear.“Oof!”Dylan gets his arse knocked against the wall for his effort.
“I told you to stay back.”
“Yeah, but I know where I feel safer, and it isn’t with two people I know fuck all about.”
He knows fuck all about me either, but maybe this isn’t the time to point that out.“Also, I have this.Thought it might be of use given I can barely see my hands down here.”He produces a tiny LED key fob that illuminates our immediate surroundings with an eerie green glow.It’s not great, but it’ll allow us to pick our way along the rows of cars without crashing into them and setting off a chorus of alarms.“Added bonus, if I’m with you, you won’t have to double back to collect me when you figure out where the car is.What’s the plate number again?”
I’m not rattling that sort of information off when I don’t know who’s down here with us.The shadows are deep enough that there are countless places a would-be attacker could hide.
“Shouldn’t you call Falchard or something and find out if this is even the best place for us to be?”
“When someone is shooting, there are no safe places to be, besides out of the firing line.Let’s just stick to the plan in place.We can adapt if new information emerges.Right now no one is finding you, because I’m standing right next to you and I can barely pinpoint your location.”
“I’m here,” he says, clasping my hand.“Do you mind if I hold your hand, Kira?”
“Uh!I guess if it makes you feel safer?”
