Marcus Sakey: Brilliance

I’ll take care of your family.

“Okay,” Quinn said, hands swirling in the air. The screen broke into quadrants showing external views. “No sign of other teams. And I’m monitoring DAR transmissions…” he looked at the laptop, “got no notable action within half a mile. Looks like Peters didn’t want to risk spooking you.”

Cooper didn’t respond, just stared. The two in front were good, he could tell. No surprise, but the fact that he didn’t recognize them meant that Peters was using assets who weren’t part of the conventional Equitable Services structure. Probably part of his private team, the men he uses to clean up messes. They’ll know what you can do and be ready for it.

Two more men followed. One took up a position by the door; the other started toward the empty information desk. The advance guards headed for the elevator. Natalie stopped, turned over her shoulder to look at Peters. Said something.

“What’s she saying?”

“Sorry, boss. No audio.”

On the monitor, Peters shook his head. Dickinson stepped forward and put his hand on Natalie’s arm. His fingers curled tight. Cooper fought an urge to punch the wall. The group began moving again, heading toward the elevator.

The janitor shut off the floor buffer and straightened. By his posture, it was clear he was asking them what they were doing. Without releasing Natalie, Roger Dickinson turned, pulled a gun from inside his suit, pointed it casually, and shot the janitor in the head.

At this distance, through the door, the bullet sounded like a firecracker.

On the screen, blood and gray matter spattered across the clean marble floors. The janitor crumpled.

Cooper was almost to the door before he realized he’d started moving. But Shannon was in front, wrapping her arms around him and planting a shoulder in his chest. “Nick, no!”

“Get out of my—”

“ No. He’s dead, and if you go out there, so are your children.”

Cooper put a hand against her shoulder and—

Two men in front, ready. They’ll be the first. Slide on the floor and fire, they won’t be expecting it, you can take both.

Then stand up, run to the corner, take aim on…

Dickinson, a gun in his hand, standing beside your family?

Peters, behind them?

Two additional shooters in widely-spaced positions?

—let it slip down her arm. He took a deep breath. Facing them now was suicide. Hell, that was probably even part of the point; Dickinson knew he was nearby, wanted to goad him into a stupid move.

“Cooper?” Quinn asked dryly. “We good?”

“Yeah.” He shook himself free of Shannon, but gently, and she let him. “Yeah. What’s happening?”

“Rear guard is moving on the body. Everyone else is heading for the elevator.”

“All right.” He took another breath, turned back to Quinn. His partner had cycled the images to follow the group’s motion. The time code read 9:46. “You’ve got full control?”

“Just as God intended.”

“Good. You can call the ball from here. Do you have a layout of the office?”

Quinn turned to the laptop, pulled open an architectural drawing, and made a few motions. “Hingepoint Productions. A graphic design firm. Their tagline is ‘Technology folds into art.’ Cute, huh?”

Shannon said, “You can get a floor plan of any place? Just like that?”

“That’s why we’re Equitable Services, sweetheart.”

Cooper leaned in. The diagram was simple enough, showed an open-plan office, rows of cubicles, the basic layout. “Can you pull it up on the cameras?”

“No. Building security covers common areas only. But I was able to remotely unlock the door.”

“Okay. Shannon, you go up the stairs, I’ll take the elevator. They’re expecting me to be alone. They’ll be keyed up and focused on me. Should make it easy for you to do your thing.”

“They’re heading up.” Quinn typed in the air, and the whole screen filled with the inside of an elevator. The two shooters in front, then Natalie and his children, with Peters and Dickinson in back. One of the shooters pressed the button for the tenth floor.

There was no predicting the janitor. But everything else is going as you hoped. With Quinn watching from here and Shannon walking through walls, you can turn a losing situation into a winner. Let them get into the office and take position. You go in, draw their attention. Shannon gets behind, turns the tables. You finish it.

Drew Peters, you die tonight.

The elevator rose, the numbers changing. Second floor. Third. Fourth.

One of the shooters leaned forward and pressed a button.

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor.

“What are they—”

The two shooters stepped out. One turned and gestured to Natalie. She shook her head. The shooter drew a pistol. Pointed it.

At Todd.

There was probably only a hundred feet of distance between Cooper and his son, but it may as well have been a continent. Five floors of concrete and steel.

Natalie stepped between the man and their son. And then as Cooper watched, she wound up and slapped him. Then she turned, took their children’s hands, and led them off the elevator and into the hall.

Drew Peters pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

Cooper’s brain was razor blades and electricity. Everything whirling and cutting, crackling and snapping. Distantly, he could hear Quinn saying what he already knew, that they were splitting up.

Peters has a plan of his own.

“Can you shut down the elevator?”

“I’ll try, but I don’t…” The floor numbers continued changing. Sixth floor, seventh floor, eighth floor…

Cooper wanted to scream, wanted to explode, wanted to flex his muscles and shatter the world. His family so close, and him helpless.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it, not before they…”

Ninth floor.

“Stop trying. Follow the others. Where are they going?”

Quinn gestured frantically, cycling through cameras so fast Cooper could barely process them, elevator, lobby, parking garage, rooftop, landing on an image of a hallway. The shooters moved away, one in front, one behind, his family in the middle. They walked to the end of the hall, turned the corner.

And were gone.

“Get them back!”

“That’s the only camera we have on the fifth floor.” Quinn’s voice grim. “Cooper, I’m sorry. Looks like one camera in the elevator lobby of each floor, but that’s all. Security for the common areas only. The offices would want privacy.”

“How many offices on that floor?”

“Umm…ten suites.”

Ten suites. Each with multiple places to hide.

“Let’s go.” Shannon’s voice sounded pinched. “We can get to the fifth floor, work together. They won’t be expecting both of us.”

The elevator reached the tenth floor. Drew Peters and Roger Dickinson stepped off. They appeared in another monitor, the elevator lobby for that floor, and started walking. Peters transferred the briefcase to his other hand.

Cooper looked at the clock: 9:47. “No.”

“What?” Quinn and Shannon together.

“I’ve got two minutes to get to that office. If I don’t show up for the meeting, if I’m even a minute late, Peters will know something is happening. Best-case scenario, he’ll call his team and they’ll all abort. Worst case, he’ll kill my family and take his chances calling down an army on this building.”

“So…what do we do?”

“I need to you to go after them.” He turned to her. “You have to save my family.”

Her eyes were wide. Scared, he realized, an expression he hadn’t seen on her before. “Nick, I—”