Paolo Bacigalupi - The Doubt Factory

Two seconds after Alix hung up with her dad, the lights went out. Williams & Crowe had cut the electricity, and they were in the dark now, illuminated only by emergency battery lights that apparently even Williams & Crowe couldn’t get access to.

“We need to hide!” Alix said.

Moses looked up at her, his expression somber. “Oh yeah? Where?”

“In…” Alix thought furiously, trying to come up with a way to escape.

Moses smiled tightly at her lack of an answer. “I don’t have any more tricks up my sleeve, Alix. I should have had a backup plan for this, but I let myself rush. I screwed this up.”

“No. It was my fault. I pushed too fast.”

There had to be some way to hide, or sneak past, to get down from the tenth floor…. Alix’s mind kept racing, but a more rational part of her knew that Moses was right. She was still just trying to believe. Making up fantasies that weren’t real. A little kid fantasy that kept her hoping, even though there was no hope left. The fantasy that if you were doing something for good, you were supposed to be rewarded for it.

“It’s over,” Moses said. He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her. “It’s over.” He looked up, his expression firming. “This doesn’t have to be you,” he said. “I can give myself up.”

“No!”

“Just hear me out! We can hide the drives.” He held up the duffel. “I can give myself up. I can tell them it was me who dragged you into this. I can convince them that you didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I won’t do that, Moses.”

“Why not? You could even come back later and get the drives. We can hide the drives, we can save the data—”

“I’m not leaving you!”

Moses glared at her with frustration. “Why not? You know they’re going to gas us! Maybe even shoot me if they get a chance. You need to get as far away from me as possible.” He put the bag down and started striding back toward the elevators, waving at her not to follow. “You stay back. Once they get me—”

Alix stormed after him. “The hell I will!”

“You don’t need to do this!” Moses said. “It’s not your fight! You can say I forced you. Say I brainwashed you! It’s me they want. So let me take the heat.” He reached the elevators and turned to face her. “Try to keep one of the drives and put it out later, maybe.” His voice turned pleading. Cajoling. “I can take the heat. We can’t hide, but you can hide the drives. You can maybe come back later and get one. You don’t have to go down for this.”

Alix swallowed. It was so tempting. Just run away. Pretend it hadn’t happened…

“No.”

“But it’s not your fight!”

“The hell it isn’t! If they’re taking you, they’re taking me, too. I’m not leaving you, and I’m not saying it was your idea. I got us into this. This was my fault. I got us into this.”

“But—”

“And it is my fight!” Alix fought back tears. “Don’t you dare ever say that it isn’t my fight!”

Moses paused, taken aback at her outburst. All the argument went out of him. He wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“It is my fight,” she said with her face muffled in his chest. “We’re together.”

“I know. I get it.”

The number indicator on the elevator began changing.

L… 1… 2…

Alix dried her tears on the back of her hand. “Here they come.”

3…

4…

Moses was staring into her eyes. “I…”

Alix could feel her heart starting to pound. Williams & Crowe was coming, and all she cared about was Moses’s gaze. She pulled him down to kiss her. Kissed him again.

6…

“I’m sorry I got you into this.”

“No, I’m sorry I got you into this.”

He smiled at that.

7…

They both took an instinctive step back from the elevator.

“Get ready,” Moses said.

Alix felt him gripping her hand hard as she watched their fate count upward. She wanted to run. She wanted to believe there was an escape, even though she knew there wasn’t.

“We need to get back,” she whispered. “We’re too close.”

His hand was holding hers so hard it felt like it was going to break.

9…

Moses looked over at her one last time, and his eyes were filled with sadness and wonder and regret.

10…

“I love you,” he whispered.

The elevator chimed.

They were still holding hands as smoke enveloped them.

GUNFIRE RATCHETED FROM THE UPPERstories, distant pop-gun sounds. Glass shattered and spilled from a window, crashing to the street below. The gunfire cracked louder. Smoke began billowing out. Confused shouts echoed from the fire team in Lisa’s radio.

“What’s our status?” Lisa demanded. “What’s our status? Did we get them?”

More gunfire. A confused flurry of shouts.

“Smoke bomb!… A-squad?… A-squad? Timmons? Door’s jammed! Ram it!”

“What’s going on?” Lisa demanded.

The squad com crackled alive with someone coughing. “No worries. We’ve got it under control. Our friends had a little surprise for us. We’ve got a couple people down. We sucked something nasty. We’ll need paramedics.”

“What about our targets?”

A small hesitation. “Looks like they’re going to need medics, too.”

“ What? ” Lisa demanded. “They’re still alive? I’m going to have your ass—” She glanced over her shoulder at the street. FBI units were rolling up now. Nothing happened in DC without their taking interest.

Worse and worse .

She spun away and cupped her mouth to her com. “What the hell did I tell you?” she whispered fiercely.

“Come on,” Timmons protested. “We got them already. They’re just kids.”

Simon Banks was striding over, his face white.

Lisa snagged George Saamsi. “They’re still alive,” she hissed.

Saamsi’s eyes went from her to Banks. “Finish it,” he growled as he went to intercept his partner.

“Clean up the mess,” Lisa murmured into her radio. “Do you understand? Clean it up.”

News trucks were showing up now. The situation was turning into a goddamn media bloodbath. Worse, the FBI’s badges had gotten past her people’s blockades. Cops and FBI were swarming toward the building.

“Cops are coming your way,” she said. “Finalize this.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yes, it’s a goddamn order, Timmons! Get rid of those kids!”

Lisa waited, holding her breath. Come on, Timmons. Get it together .

Gunfire cracked in her earpiece.

Once. Twice.

On the streets, everyone panicked and scattered for cover, but Lisa sagged with relief.

Her com crackled alive again.

“It’s done.”

“Good,” she snapped. “Now clean up the scene and get the hell out of there.”

All around her, the crime scene was crumbling into disarray. Cops and FBI and EMS and Williams & Crowe personnel all sorting through the confusion. Lisa watched with satisfaction as her people made themselves helpfully obstructionistic.

Just a few more minutes .

Med-tech people went in, but her strike teams managed to bog down the cops who had been trying to go in with them. Lisa suppressed a smile. There wouldn’t be much left for the cops to reconstruct by the time her people got done in there. It would pass. Timmons’s people knew how to clean up a crime scene.

Lisa grabbed Saamsi. “It’s done. We’re clear.” She jerked her head toward the cops and FBI agents. “We’re going to need some political cover. Let our clients know. We need this to be forgotten.”