Resist Read Free

convenient but easier in the long run.
    â€œGet out of there.”
    I dig my nails into my palms. “I’m not done downloading yet. Sixty percent.”
    â€œJurek’s in the elevator.”
    Sixty-five percent.
    â€œI’m almost done.” I can’t fail. Not this time. There’s far too much at stake.
    â€œHe’s on the floor.”
    Eighty percent.
    Go, my sense of self-preservation is screaming at me. I clench my fists, determined to ignore it.
    Ninety.
    Not yet. I can’t go yet.
    The tracking bar reaches 100%, and I yank my cable from Jurek’s computer. Although I’ve finally become anxious enough to feel sweat bead on my neck, my actions are smooth and well-rehearsed. I patch myself back together, return the data stick to my anklet and shut down the computer.
    I can hear Jurek’s voice outside. Is he on the phone or talking to a guard? Growing more worried by the second, I glance around the office. “I need an alternate exit.”
    â€œYou’ve got nothing in his office unless you can get into the ceiling vent.”
    I groan and glance up. The vent is on the other side of the room. If I can slide Jurek’s desk over and stack a chair on it, I should be able to reach it. Although it’s not like security won’t know where I went, it should give me a head start.
    I don’t get the chance to try though. The office door opens, and I dash around the back, delusionally hoping I might be able to sneak out behind Jurek. But luck isn’t with me.
    Luck is a poor partner. Damn if Fitzpatrick didn’t love to tell us that.
    Jurek sees me, and he freezes, startled.
    I knock him down on my way through the door, but he cries out. Seven meters down the hallway, the guard hears him and turns around. It’s my mistake for not silencing Jurek, but something within me stilled my hand. Something that I know shouldn’t exist.
    There’s no time to think on it. Cole is swearing as I charge the security guard. His gun is less my concern than his radio, but either way, I can’t reach him in time. He whips out both, clearly thinking he can hold me at bay.
    Instead, I duck low and knock him to the floor. He fires far too late, and the bullet misses by several inches, but the sound does enough damage. Backup will be coming any second, alerted by the gunshot or Jurek.
    In three moves I’ve disabled the guard and taken control of his side arm, and I race toward the lobby. “Tell me where to go.”
    The elevators are a bad idea. Security will lock them down any moment if they haven’t already. Meanwhile, the glassy stairwell shows me three new guards charging upstairs, weapons drawn.
    â€œElevator shaft?” I ask.
    â€œNo, turn back around and go left. The fire escape.”
    I’m certain throwing open that door triggers a silent alarm which we didn’t bother to disable, but it’s not as if my presence is a secret anymore. My damn shoes cut into my feet, and their ridiculous soles cause me to skid across the concrete stairs. Cursing, I yank them off as I run.
    I take the stairs two at a time, my bare feet slamming into gritty concrete. My heart rate steadies. I’m good at running. Jumping too, and I glance down the center of the well as the door slams open two floors above me. I could probably fit between the railings, but twenty-two stories is a good twenty too many, even for me.
    â€œStop right there!” one of the guards yells.
    Annoyed, I fire a single shot upward. The angle makes it impossible to hit anyone, but it might make them think twice about continuing to charge. Hearing them scramble, I return to running.
    Eighteenth floor. Sixteenth. I start to get dizzy from the circling. My world has been reduced to a never-ending industrial gray loop.
    Fifteenth.
    â€œTwo more, coming up from the basement,” Cole says.
    Fourteenth.
    Twelfth.
    By the ninth floor, we’re all in range of each other, and this