Bluebird Down

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

The clack of Elizabeth's heels echoed up through the lobby and punctuated the silence. The hairs on her arms prickled. When she was younger, her parents had driven her and Will through the old ghost towns. Houses, churches, stores, all still standing, but empty. Though not lifeless. The absence of life seemed to give them a soul of their own. And with the cars abandoned and preserved by rust, it felt as though people might flood back at any moment, and someone would hit play, and time would restart. Such was the lobby now.

Elizabeth stopped in front of the elevators. She waited. Her heart thrummed dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum, and a shiver scuttled up the back of her neck. Somebody's watching.

She spun round. The black hemisphere of the CCTV camera winked at her. Then came a rumble. When she turned back, the numbers above the elevator were shifting down. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. DING—Ground.

The doors shuddered open. At the front stood a man, semiautomatic pistol clutched in front of him.

Elizabeth's gaze fell straight to the weapon. Buh-boom, buh-boom, buh-boom. She steadied her breath, and her calves stiffened as she resisted an instinctive step backwards.

The man towered over her, even with the height loaned her by her stilettos. He wore black dress pants and a white shirt—sleeves rolled up the elbows, revealing taut ropes of muscle—and his beard was so bushy that it obscured the lanyard of his visitor pass. Behind him cowered Kat and Daisy. Both had their hands linked and pressed to the back of their heads. Their eyes were wide, but widened still when they caught sight of Elizabeth.

The man tilted the gun towards her, and he spoke in a gruff voice, like the rasp of gravel over concrete. "Hands on your head. Now."

With her gaze locked on his, Elizabeth raised her hands and held them to the side of her head. "Kat, Daisy—" She kept her voice smooth and low, as though talking to a toddler. "—keep your hands up and walk towards me."

But they just eyed the man and stayed at the back of the elevator.

Her tone sharpened. "Look at me, and do as I say."

Kat nudged Daisy, and Daisy crept forwards, pressing herself against the wall of the elevator as she edged past the man. Once she had stepped out into the lobby and backed away several paces, her heels scuffing over the floor, Kat followed.

All the while, Elizabeth kept her gaze fixed on the hostage taker, his eyes as bleak and unyielding as asphalt carving up the landscape. Her eyelid twitched. Whatever you do, don't blink.

The man opened his hand to the side and welcomed Elizabeth into the lift. She strode towards the doors, but in the corner of her vision, Kat shook her head. "Madam Secretary, no—"

"Go," Elizabeth said, and she jerked her head towards the main doors. "Now."

Kat and Daisy cast her anxious looks.

"I said now."

They stumbled backwards and then fled towards the exit.

Elizabeth entered the elevator, and the doors juddered shut.

"Hands against the wall," the man said.

Elizabeth stepped to the back of the lift and placed her palms flat against the cool wood. The man's presence loomed over her and prickled up her spine, and as he patted her down, his hands hot and clammy through her clothes, she held her breath and swallowed back the wave of nausea. Just close your eyes and think of America.