Russian Boss’s Secret Baby by Bella King
Ch 6
SLATE
Mia is white as a sheet at this point, but I know we can’t get caught being here by police, and she’s our best bet out of the building safe from both the deranged ex-lover and the police. I can hear sirens approaching, and while I feel a small flutter of panic, I know that scaring Mia is the wrong answer.
While all three of us are trained to handle situations such as these calmly and without fear, we have never encountered a situation where we had an unexpected sort of hostage situation.
I know that I must treat it like a hostage situation, because the guys and I have stupidly divulged extremely important and incriminating details of our operations. If we can keep her close while gaining her trust, we could at least circumvent her betrayal.
Without a word, Mia opens the emergency exit door, sounding a horrendous alarm complete with flashing white lights. We enter a stairwell, dark and lit only by the sporadic and nauseating flashing from the alarm.
“We won’t be able to use the elevators, so we need to get out of here and use a different staircase,” says Mia, taking off her heels and tossing them to the side. At least she isn’t making this any harder than it needs to be.
After rushing down multiple flights of stairs for what felt like an eternity in hell, she finds the door to the fifty-second floor and presses her back into it to open it to us. She is clearly smart enough not to react in a way that would indicate that she is going to run. Even despite the circumstances, I know I like Mia already. This is quite the field test for a new employee.
The floor she is leading us through is unfinished and under construction. There’s plastic sheeting everywhere, and the distinct smell of plaster and paint hang in the air. The skyline of the city can be seen brilliantly from here, and if we were not in a dire situation from two different ends, I would probably want to stay here and get lost in it.
“Okay, so there’s nobody on this floor, and there are multiple different staircases on each floor, so we should be able to stay clear of the cops and the shooter if we stagger which ones we use. Does that make sense?” Mia says nearly breathlessly, some color returning to her face as she becomes more confident in her resolve.
I glance at Michael and Eli, holding their stares as we silently agree to just do whatever the fuck she says. I can hear her bare feet slapping the concrete floor as she leads us through the area of what looks to be some kind of future restaurant. We cross over diagonally to another door at the corner of the building with a sign that says “STAIRS 52-35”, and we go through.
I can hear the steady chop of helicopter blades nearby. The police must’ve called in the helicopter because of the insane amounts of stairs and no elevator in an emergency. This puts me at ease somewhat until I can hear heavy boots moving up through the stairs we are descending.
Now I feel like we are surrounded.
“Fuck,” Mia hisses. “Let’s go back up and try to get to the other set of stairs,” she says as she sprints back up from where we came.
We follow her back through the door, and just as it begins to close behind us, I can hear the voice of a SWAT officer barking at us from just the landing below.
“Stay where you are! Keep your hands up,” the voice continues, and Mia slams the door closed as the boots approach closer and closer.
“Run. Go behind the counter there,” she whispers, seeming to realize that we’re not keen on confronting cops. She should know that we’re criminals by now, and even if we weren’t the ones causing trouble, the police will take any opportunity to arrest us.
We all follow her to a service desk that is only partially installed. The open concept of the restaurant makes hiding difficult.
I hear the door fly open as the team rushes through. I see flashlights shining around the room from the stocks of automatic weapons, but the service desk is acting as a shield to us and should keep us concealed from their sight.
After all, we are not their primary targets. Even if they do find us, we are not in imminent danger. At least I hope we aren’t.
We all strain to hear, but the speaking voice of the leader has lowered and all we can hear is that he is muttering orders. Another door opens on the other side of the room, likely the one we had initially come through. All of us remain dead silent as we listen for the door to close again, for all the footfalls to disappear.