The situation was quickly devolving.
The static in her earpiece abruptly came to life.
“We’re coming,” she said breathlessly.
“Hurry it up, Jackal,” Niall answered. His voice sounded tight, with the kind of efficient calm he always seemed to display when things went terribly wrong.
“Two minutes!” she called back.
Suddenly, Tems halted before reaching the hall they were supposed to take. He swore.
“Soldiers at the end,” he said.
Sydney glanced down the corridor to see the first few guards arriving at the far side of the hall, their guns drawn as one of them shouted orders. “Change of plans,” she muttered, then veered sideways, heading now toward the back exit.
“What’s happening?”
Gavi’s breathless, panicked voice suddenly came into range, and Sydney turned to see Winter rushing up with her beside him. Her eyes were wide, pupils dilated in terror, and for the first time since Sydney had met her, she didn’t look composed and ready for whatever situation she might find herself in. Her arms shook visibly.
“Was that the president?” she went on, her voice pinched with fright. She glanced at Winter before looking back at Sydney. “Was that a gunshot? I saw blood—”
“Take our car,” Winter interrupted as he threw his jacket around her shoulders and guided her toward the main entrance. “Go now, before the situation deteriorates.”
She turned wild eyes on him. “Just me?” she exclaimed. “What about you?”
He shook his head. “Too many prying eyes. I’ll find my own ride.Go now.I’ll call you.”
He flashed Sydney a look, and the two of them exchanged a knowing glance. Winter couldn’t go back yet with Gavi, not when there might be a sniper out in the bushes looking for him and Sydney. Sydney nodded at him, and he led Gavi to the parking attendant waiting at the main entrance, who ushered her down the stairway.
She looked back again at Winter, bewildered and terrified, before she disappeared from view.
Winter waited until she’d gotten into her car, then rushed back to Sydney and Tems. “What now?” he said in a low voice.
“Winter Young!” someone exclaimed.
Sydney glanced up to see one of the prime minister’s aides running toward her.
“Convenient,” Tems snapped, shooting Winter a hostile glare.
Winter returned the glare before he gave the aide a polite nod. “What’s going on?” he asked, as if he were unaware.
The aide looked pale as a sheet, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. He pointed back into the dining hall. “There’s been a shooting,” he said breathlessly. “I suggest you get to somewhere safe, sir. Follow me.”
Winter stopped him before he could start dragging all of them back down the wrong hall. “I need a quiet place to get hold of my manager,” he said. “Can you tell me how I can get to the nearest bathroom?”
The aide blinked at him, his eyes still wild with panic, then nodded and pointed in the direction of the back entrance. “Then I suggest you get to the front, sir,” he said. “The guards are stopping everyone, but tell them it’s urgent.”
“Thank you,” Winter nodded. Then the aide sprinted away, his encounter with Winter forgotten.
Sydney let out a breath. “Bathroom?” she said.
“When I went in there, they had small windows above the sink,” he replied.
She nodded at Winter. Then they were off again. Sydney could hear Tems’s grumbling even as they ran.
“The soldiers will be onto us before we can get out,” he said.
“Name a better escape route, and we’ll take it,” she shot back.
