Braver than he looks.Bryn glanced at the guard, still standing motionless by the door, then at his ankle monitor flashing green.Whatever Frost had injected him with wasn’t what Russo had ordered.It wasn’t a compliance drug, it was something to keep him awake, alert, and functioning through fatigue.
How long has it been since Frost left?Five minutes?Ten?Bryn had no way to track time in the windowless room with its unchanging light.But the hidden cell, that was his lifeline.He tilted his head back, marking the ventilation grate in the ceiling.He thought he could see the end of the device, resting against the metal slats.
A wave of light headedness washed over him, followed by an odd surge of energy.His heartbeat accelerated and the monitor light flashed faster.The guard glanced over, frowning.
“Hey,” Bryn said.“I don’t know what he gave me but I think I’m going to be sick.”
The guard’s expression hardened.“Not my problem.”
“Do you want to clean it up?”Bryn asked, letting his head loll forward.“Or explain to Russo why his valuable test subject choked on his own vomit?”
“Fine.If you’re gonna puke, do it here.”The guard kicked a metal trash can toward Bryn.
“Need to lean forward,” Bryn mumbled, making retching sounds.“Can’t…with these restraints.”
The guard cursed under his breath.“If this is some kind of trick…” He drew his weapon and aimed it at Bryn’s head.“One wrong move and you’re dead.Russo can find another test subject.”With his free hand, he reached for a set of handcuffs on his belt.“I’m going to undo your restraints, then cuff your hands in front.Try anything, and I shoot you in the head.Understand?”
Bryn nodded, continuing to make gagging sounds.
The guard kept his weapon trained on Bryn as he unlocked the chair restraints.As soon as Bryn’s right hand was free, he snapped a handcuff around it, then secured the other wrist before removing the remaining chair restraint.The ankle monitor pulsed yellow.
“There,” the guard said, stepping back.“Now puke if you’re gonna puke.”
Bryn lurched forward, making violent retching sounds over the trash can.Nothing came up but he made it convincing, his body heaving.
“Gross,” the guard said, his weapon still aimed but his attention momentarily diverted.
It was enough.Bryn launched himself sideways from the chair, crashing into the guard’s legs.Both of them went down hard, the guard’s head cracking against the concrete floor.His weapon skittered away.
Before the guard could recover, Bryn brought his cuffed hands down on the man’s throat with all his strength.He choked, eyes bulging, hands clawing at Bryn’s face.Bryn struck again, this time against the temple.The guard went limp.Thanks, Gunnar, that worked.I’ll never complain about your self-defense tips again.
Breathing hard, Bryn scrambled to his feet and retrieved the gun.He checked the guard’s pulse.He was unconscious, not dead.Bryn searched him and found the key to his handcuffs.He took off the cuffs then rubbed his wrists.Gunnar’s going to need to get some fur-lined ones if he wants to get kinky.Now for the phone.Bryn clambered onto the chair and reached for the vent cover.It was screwed in place, but loose, and he managed to pry the cover down on one side.There, wedged in the duct, was the phone and a key card.Bryn snatched them and jumped down from the chair.
He stripped the guard of his uniform shirt and cap, putting them on over his own clothes.They were a bit big, but he hoped they’d get him where he needed to be.Best of all, he took the man’s shades.His eyes would be a complete giveaway without them.Gloves he would have to manage without.
He considered restraining the unconscious guard but decided against it.It would take time he didn’t have.Taking a deep breath, he swiped the key card to exit the interrogation room.Here goes nothing.The corridor was empty.He moved with purpose, trying to look like he belonged, and headed for the nearest stairwell.He hoped he was going in the right direction because his recall from earlier was vague at best.
Voices approached from around the corner.Bryn squared his shoulders, tilted his hat down and continued walking, adopting the confident stride of a typical self-important security guard.Two men in lab coats passed him, indifferent.He kept walking, heart pounding.He wondered how long it would be before the energy from Frost’s drugs wore off.
A door ahead had a stairwell sign but when Bryn tried the handle it was locked.He swiped the stolen key card but nothing happened.Don’t panic, don’t panic.He tried the card again.This time, the lock clicked open.He slipped through, closing the door behind him.
The stairwell was dim and it was a relief from the bright light in the corridor.Bryn leaned against the wall, gathering his thoughts.He assumed he was underground so had to go up.He started climbing, taking the steps two at a time.One flight, then another.He had reached a landing marked G, presumably for ground level, when an alarm began to blare throughout the building.
“Security breach, security breach,” announced a mechanical voice over a PA system.“All personnel initiate evacuation procedures.”
The key card didn’t work on the door out of the stairwell.Come on, Frost…override the lockdown system.Bryn counted to ten then tried again.To his relief, the door opened onto a carpeted hallway.This level looked like ordinary office space.Cubicles, meeting rooms, even potted plants.People rushed about, responding to the alarm.Bryn moved with the crowd and kept his head down.He needed an exit, now.
He followed the biggest procession of people down a side corridor to a security checkpoint near what appeared to be a staff exit.Two guards were checking badges as employees left.Bryn slowed, heart pounding.He had a key card but no badge.
He scanned the area for alternatives and spotted a service door marked Maintenance just before the checkpoint.Bryn veered toward it, swiping the key card.Beyond was a narrow utility corridor housing pipes and electrical conduits.He followed it, the alarm still blaring behind him.The corridor turned, then ended at another door.He went through it into a loading dock with trucks parked in several bays.A guard stood by the external door, checking credentials as people left.Bryn joined a group of workers moving some equipment.
“Need some help?”he asked, grabbing one end of a heavy crate.The worker on the other end nodded, not questioning the presence of a security guard offering his help.Together, they carried the crate to a truck parked near the exit.“Thanks,” the worker said, wiping his brow.“You security guys don’t usually get your hands dirty.”
“Emergency situation,” Bryn replied with a shrug.“Everybody helps.”
The worker nodded toward the guard at the exit.“Johnson’s checking everyone out.Better go do your security thing.”
Bryn nodded and walked purposefully toward the exit as if reporting for duty.“Hey, how are you doing?”
