Page 106 of Tango

He took her purse and retrieved her badge.

Piper looked toward her lab to see if anyone might have arrived early. It was dark inside.

She looked left, knowing there was a staircase in that direction, and her gaze fell on the boots and long legs of a security guard sprawled on the carpet.

“He doesn’t get the antidote,” the man said.

She was going to die.

Okay. She was going to die. It felt much more matter-of-fact than she’d expected. But that might be her reaction to whatever was in her system.

There was definitely something in her system; it felt like she was on her second cocktail.

The man used Piper’s badge to open the computer lab as Piper patted her pocket.

When they found her body, they would find the USB. So if she was going to die—and she was—then she needed to fill the USB with the whistleblower information that would save innocent lives.

She could do that.

The man held the door wide, and Piper pulled Chanti’s thumb drive from her pocket and used her body to block the action as she slid it in place.

“I have the antidote here,” the man reminded her. “You do what I say, and I’ll give you the shot.”

She did recognize the man’s voice. “Wade? Wade, is that you behind the mask? Do Vivian and Jay know you’re a criminal?”

The man moved behind her as he laughed loud and hard. “Yeah, I’m Wade. And if you earn the antidote, make sure to tell the police that.” He laughed again.

The best joke ever!

Okay, she must be wrong.

He pushed her into the seat at the computer.

“Get into the system. I want you to give me the formula you developed and the data.”

“Right,” Piper said. “Okay. I need my badge.” She sent a look toward the USB; the light was red.

She badged herself through the first roadblock. And there was the new security window that Chanti had put in.

“Oh no.”

“What?” The man leaned over her shoulder to see the screen better.

Piper pointed. “This is new after someone tried to kidnap Amanda.” Piper slapped at her numbing cheeks. “Come on. Come on, think. She told me the code.” Piper stared, coming up blank. “It was a B word. Something clever. Something ironic.” She typed the capital B.

“Come on! Come on! Live or die. Nothing in that computer is worth your life.”

“Baboon,” she said. “Bindi? Bibble. Barracuda”

“Come on.” The guy was red-faced above his blue mask. His hair was sweaty.

“It starts with a B.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s new. I’m trying to think.”

“B?” the man asked. “Barbeque? Boulder. Bamboozle?”