“I would happily leave their lives in her hands, yes. She’s a gentle girl, Matt. She wouldn’t knowingly do anything that would put someone innocent in danger.”
“But—”
I throw up my hands, exasperated. “What are we supposed to do for the rest of the trip, keep her locked up in here, and not tell her why? Sooner or later, she’ll just end up firing us and doing whatever the Hell she wants. It’s not fair to keep her in the dark like this.” I shake my head. “I’m telling her.”
He stands, squaring off against me. “You are not.”
I grit my teeth. “You’re not my commander anymore. I’m. Telling. Her. She needs—”
I’m interrupted by a loud beep from my two-way. I unclip it, bringing it to my mouth.
“Hello?”
“Turn on the TV,”Glen says without any preamble. He’s breathing hard, like he’s running. “Channel 17.”
“What?” I’m confused. “Do you need backup? Why are you out of breath?”
“Coming up from the gym now. Channel 17.”
Matt grabs the remote and starts flicking through channels.
“Why are we doing this?” I ask. “What’s happening?”
“Coverage of the premiere just came up on the screens in the gym. She’s—”
“She’s there,” Matt says, his voice full of horror. I glance up at the wide-screen plasma, and my stomach drops. It’s a wide shot, showing thirty-odd celebrities walking down the red carpet, smiling and signing autographs. Hundreds of fans press against red velvet ropes cording them away from the stars. Briar is easy to pick out in her bright red dress and scarlet lipstick. She’s beaming at a teenage girl holding a baby, leaning over the rope line to take a selfie with them. Behind her, a man in sunglasses and an earpiece is checking his phone and completely ignoring the crowd. I vaguely recognise him from a popular LA security company.
Shit.
The door to the suite opens, and Glen slams inside, gym bag over his shoulder and sweat staining the front of his shirt. He doesn’t say anything, immediately grabbing his gun from the case by the door. “We’re leaving. Now.”
I go to pick up my pistol, but before I can, my phone rings. Anfisa’s number flashes across the screen. I pick it up and slam it onto the table as I strap up.
“Kenta Li. You’re on speaker, Matt and Glen are here.”
“Good. You need to see this,”Anfisa says, her voice clipped.“It landed in her DMs a few minutes ago. Our research team just clocked it.”
My phone dings with an incoming image. It’s a screenshot from one of Briar’s social media accounts.
I can’t wait to see you tonight, angel. I’ll be there to pick you up and take you home.
If you don’t come quietly, people will die.X
Underneath, there’s a low-quality photograph of a pile of short silver pipes stacked in a pyramid. Closing my eyes, I pass my phone to the others, reaching for my gun again.
“Pipe bombs,” Glen says quietly.
“We lost track of her,” I tell Anfisa. “She’s at the event now.”
Anfisa’s silent for a moment, then a stream of Russian swearing pours out of the phone. I catch a few words.Idiotic. British. Moron.
“We know,” Matt snaps, heading to the door. I join him, stepping into my shoes. “What the Hell are you going to do?”
“I’m doubling police presence and calling in the LAPD bomb squad. We’ll try and get the area evacuated ASAP, but it’ll be tricky with all the media. The studio will probably kick in their heels. Not to mention all the celebs.”She sounds exhausted.
“Do what you have to,” Matt says. “We’ll go in and extract her.”
She sighs.“I don’t like this. We’ve been on the back foot almost this entire investigation. He’s clearly smart enough to evade detection. The fact that he literallytoldyou about the bomb threat means that he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.”
