Page 140 of Smoke Screen
“Everyone,” Louis said, “back up.”
“Louis!” Thompson said from behind the agents. “Are you insane?”
Yeah, clearly.What sane person takes a room full of people hostage? No one Maddy knew.
At least not until today.
“Mr. Pierre.” Phin’s voice, its low, steady resonance, broke through Maddy’s whirling thoughts.
Phin held his hands out, palm up. “Please,” he said, “put the gun down.”
If a prowling panther could talk, he’d be Phin in this moment. All calm confidence, controlled energy and … power. He’d get them out of this. Somehow. She knew it. Felt it in the pit of her stomach where the long sought-after swishy feeling did its thing.
Swish, swish, swish.
The arm around her neck tightened.Oh, God.Pressure built in her throat—no air—and she gagged.
“Sir,” one of the agents said, “put the gun down.”
Dragging Maddy with him, Louis sidestepped toward the door, the movement loosening the choke hold enough that Maddy sucked in a breath, allowing all that glorious oxygen to fill her brain.
Room. She had room. She dipped her chin, shielding her throat from that tightening move in case he tried it again.
“Once I get outside,” Louis told Phin, “I’ll let her go. Back away from the door!”
What the hell did he not understand about being locked in?
“Louis,” Thompson said, “what have you done? Forget that. What are youdoing?”
Hands still outstretched, Phin took a tiny step forward. “Let her go.”
“Stop!” Louis said. “Right there.”
Phin halted and his brothers sidled up beside him. A united front. A dangerous looking one.
“No problem,” Phin said. “Lower the gun and let’s talk this out.”
“Sir!” the agent repeated, his voice sharper as he took a step closer. “Gun down. Right now.”
Louis jerked the gun at Phin. “Back up. Away from the door. Son,” he said to Louis Three, “figure out how to open those doors. The dingbat receptionist has to have a code. I’ll shoot our way out of here if I have to.”
Holy cow. The man had indeed gone insane.
Maddy inched her head around, made eye contact with the Secret Service agents, all of them obviously thinking the same thing.
“You can’t,” she said. “The glass is bulletproof. If you shoot, who knows what’ll happen? The shot might ricochet and hit someone. Maybe your son.”
Louis Three pushed out of his chair. One agent angled toward him and he froze. Just stood there, exchanging a pained look with his father.
Now.
Maddy lifted her foot and—stomp!—drove her sneaker into Louis’s foot. Why oh why hadn’t she worn wooden-heeled shoes today? That would have really done some damage. Maybe broken a few bones.
“Ow!”
Her rubber sole cushioned the blow, but the impact knocked him off balance. A juicy jolt of adrenaline plowed into her limbs.
Wham! Wham! Wham!
