Midnight Sun (85 page)

“
If
you
let
out
a
sound
,
I
will
slice
you
so
fast
,
you
won
’
t
even
feel
it
until
you
’
re
holding
your
bastard
in
your
arms.
And
I
will
gut
the
little
shit
in
front
of
your
face.
Now
stand
by
my
friend
,
with
your
back
to
the
wall.
”

She
complied,
mind
racing.
Her
phone
and
her
Glock
were
both
in
her
purse.
She felt
t
he weight of her
backup
pistol,
a
blued
-
steel
Walther
PPK
.380
that was seldom even noticed after years being of worn on her ankle every day
.
Both
guns
were
loaded
with
specially
designed,
and
very
expensive,
MagSafe ammunition. The
bullets,
a mixture
of
epoxy
and
steel
birdshot
encased in a brass shell
,
transformed
the
power
of
a
standard
.380
into
something
comparable
to
a
.45,
and
that
of
a
.45
caliber
pistol
to
the
power
of
a
.50
caliber.
The
y
were
among
the
most
lethal
ammunition
available
in
the
world.
But
both
weapon
s
were worth very little at the moment
because
neither
could
be
reached
faster
than
Leonard
could
slash
with
the
knife.

Her
only
hope
would
be
to
make
a
loud, attention
-
grabbing
scene
as
they
stepped
into
the
lobby.
That
hope
evaporated
a
moment
later
when
Leonard
slid
a
key
into
the
maintenance
switch
and
turned
it
to
override.
He
pushed
the
button
marked
“
B
,
”
and
the
elevator
started
its
non-stop
descent
to
the
basement.
The
likelihood
of
survival
plummeted
with
every
floor
they
passed.

“
What
are
you
going
to
do
?”
she
asked,
defiantly
refusing
to
sound
afraid
.
“
T
ake
me
for
ransom?
”

She
fed
the
idea
to
him,
hoping
to
change
his
intentions
from
what
she
assumed
w
ere
torture,
rape,
and
murder.

“
Shut
up,
”
Brassert
replied
.
“
Y
ou
’
ll
know
soon
enough.
”

His
partner
remained
silent
,
standing
like
a
stone
gargoyle
beside
her.
The
elevator
came
to
a
stop
and
the
doors
slid
open.
Brassert
poked
his
head
out.
There
were
no
signs
of
activity
in
the
basement
hallway.
He
signaled
and
the
other
man
snatched
the
purse
from
her
hand,
grabbed
her
arm
,
and
shoved
her
through
the
door.
The
upper
floors
of
the
Hotel
Captain
Cook,
the
customer
areas,
were
lit
with
a
soft
yellow
glow
and
warm,
dark
textures.
The
basement
,
on
the
other
hand
,
was
the
polar
opposite
in
terms
of
atmosphere.
Harsh
fluorescent
fixtures
lit
the
corridor
with
a
hyperactive
flicker
that
gave
Lonnie
a
headache
as
the
men
led
her
down
the
hallway
toward
a
door
at
the
end.

Lonnie
looked ahead to the doorway.
I
f
she
took her out
onto
the
street,
she
might
be
able
to
scream
out
for
help.
She
developed
a
plan
in
her
mind
as
she
drew
closer.
She
could
hit
Brassert
in
the
back
of
his
head
with
a
solid
palm
strike.
The
blow
would
stun
him.
Then
she
could
scream
and
kick
the
man
behind
her
in
the
balls.
Then
she
would
bolt
away,
roll
onto
the
ground
,
and
pull
her
pistol
from
her
ankle
holster,
then
turn
and
shoot
Brassert
and
his
companion
before
they
recovered.
The
whole
plan
worked
itself
out
in
her
thoughts
in
the
space
of
less
than
a
second
as
they
drew
near
the
exit
.