THE ESCORT

FORTY | I COULD HAVE DIED

"Hana was compromised," Brooks said. "She betrayed the government and had to be dealt with. But, I must say that this is the last place I expect you find you, Elodie. I thought seeing your brother would be your priority. You've saved me a lot of trouble coming here."

"This is just a stop-over."

"We're turning off the deepfake image now," Rocco told her, and Elodie made a mental note of where everyone stood.

A moment later, thermally generated security fog—glycerine mixed with distilled water—blasted from the wall vents. Smothering the corridor, enveloping everyone and everything in thick, impenetrable blanket.

 The moment she was concealed from view, Elodie began to move.

There were three armed men, and she dropped low, spinning on her heels towards the nearest. He lurched out of the fog at her, jerking his weapon in her direction as she thrust her foot into the back of his legs; tipping backwards, he let off a burst of gunfire into the ceiling.

She swung the torch backhanded into the helmet of another of the team, the fog billowing crazily as he crashed to the floor.

Elodie was blind, all she could see was a thick soup of white as the fog cannoned from the vents, but nobody else could see a thing either. The fog was designed to disorient intruders and prevent them from gaining access to the computers next door, but she knew that the system would be disabled within seconds.

 Moving low between the armed men in a whirl of white gas, she heard the crack of gunfire near her ear; chips of plaster flew off the wall and stung her face.

Brooks barked, "Stop firing!"

 The soft fabric of his jacket brushed her arm as he retreated, trying to reach the safety of the lift, but heading in the wrong direction, and she grabbed him from behind, clamping her forearm around his neck.

Brooks felt as light as a feather as she pulled him towards the exit, brushing her shoulder against the wall to keep herself orientated. The exit into the tunnel should only be a couple of feet behind them.

Another gunshot took a chunk of the wall out above their heads, and she told him, "They're going to shoot you!"

"No more firing," Brooks spluttered. "That's an order!"

She dragged him to the door, his heels skidding uselessly on the tiled floor. Watched for disturbances in the fog ahead. She knew the armed men were moving forward, weapons raised.

"You're being ridiculous." With the crook of her elbow jammed against his throat, Brooks' voice was a petulant croak. "You won't get out of here alive."

 "You already tried to kill me once and that didn't work out so well."

 "We were trying to bring you in!" His fingers plucked ineffectually against her arm.

 "Why? I thought we had an agreement?" She asked hotly.

But, Elodie never got to hear the answer, because she heard the lift doors at the far end of the corridor open again. There was a disturbance in the white wall of fog ahead of her, the downdraught of the lift shaft made the thinning gas swirl, then thin green beams of laser-sights moved left and right out of the fog.

The reinforcements who had arrived wore imaging goggles, which meant they could pick up her heat signature, so she hunched as low as she could behind Brooks.

He gasped, too, because the beams of light criss-crossed his chest, shoulders and face as they hungrily searched for a clear shot at Elodie.

 "Don't shoot!" he shouted to the invisible soldiers.