She quickly repockets it and returns to a two-handed grip on the gun. The door is in the propped-open position. She leaves it that way and moves into the room. “Back up. Against the wall.”
She sweeps the room with the barrel, her movements economical, almost a dance step, alighting her aim on Stu. “If you reach inside your jacket, big boy, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if you’re trying to get a cough drop.” He relaxes his arm. “Everybody. Arms straight out. Make a ‘T.’ Do it now.”
They reluctantly comply. Amber wears a businesslike black pants suit. She sounds different, too.
“Stand up slowly, bitch. And drop your little toy. I can see it.” The pin hits the floor and rolls toward the drain. “Arms out! Very slowly. Back up to the sound of my voice.” Amber does a quick search, then pushes Laura forward. “Now, go get their weapons. Take them by the barrel and do it very slowly. Hold each one out by the barrel, your arms straight out, so I can see it. If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”
Laura walks over to the men and does as instructed. Amber tells her to put them on the table and she does. Next she orders Stu and Bill to lie face down on the floor.
“Unshackle him.”
Laura gets a set of keys from the table and unlocks my legs, then my arms. Amber orders her to the floor with the men, face down and arms straight out. The room’s smells, sweat, something else, are distinct now. I can’t tell if they’re coming from them or me. Amber walks to the table and unloads the guns, dropping out the magazines, ejecting rounds from the chambers, and locking them open. She tosses the guns through the open door. All this takes less than ten seconds and she has her gun back in both hands, an authoritative presence.
“Keep those arms out!” She backs up to the lockers and opens one, then the other. She brings my wallet, keys, my cell phone, and clothes. Or what’s left of my clothes. My suit jacket is gone. I liked that suit. I dress as quickly as I can. Every muscle feels foreign. Every one aches.
“You’re making a big mistake, G-girl,” Laura mutters.
Amber ignores her and takes my arm. “Can you stand?”
I nod and start up, only to nearly pitch over. I grab the top of the other chair and steady myself. “Just give me a minute.” My legs are asleep. They burn as the blood flows normally again.
“Ready?”
We step into the hallway and she closes the door, locking it from the outside. She moves with supreme confidence and no wasted motions. This is the cub reporter who totally took me in.
“Where’s your backup?” I ask.
“No backup.”
“What…?”
“No time to explain.”
The semi-auto disappears behind her back and she has both hands free. For a few steps, she steadies me before I can do it on my own. My walk is uncertain but her voice is quiet and insistent. “Go. Go.”
We walk down the same hallway that I had seen on my first visit here. It’s the anonymous building in SoDo. Two bundles lie against the wall. As I get closer, I see they are uniformed officers, face down, and handcuffed. Amber grabs my hand an
d hurries us through a heavy door and gate to the outside. It’s daylight. The air tastes like Eden.
Chapter Thirty-three
Sunday, October 31st
We drive in silence through the city. It’s been raining and the sun is starting to come out, bathing the mass of towers in a magical glow, alternately golden and purple. The air smells of rain and seawater. It must be Sunday because the streets are empty around the office district, while people congregate at Westlake Park with Macy’s and Nordstrom bags. It is a normal, wonderful, alive world. Amber drives the speed limit.
I ask her to turn on the heat. Wearing only my scuffed white dress shirt and suit trousers, I feel the chill through the windows.
As the car climbs Queen Anne Hill I study her face. It’s set in an unreadable mask. My legs ache and my face throbs and I’m giddy to be saved and I’m pissed off. I want to erupt with questions. But I don’t. She makes several turns, coming too close to Pam’s house, and then we’re in the parking lot of the old high school. It’s been turned into condos, and they have spectacular views of the Space Needle, Elliott Bay and downtown. My car is sitting in a space.
“I had your friend, George, drive it up here. The keys should be under the visor. What did they ask you back there?”
I tell her: It was all about Megan. “I had bluffed and bullied one of the most powerful CEOs in the Northwest into granting an interview—so I assumed Olympic had called down these dogs on me. But they didn’t ask anything about Olympic.”
Amber changes the subject. “I packed a bag for you. It’s in the back. I found your working notebook—you should have hidden it better. Still, took me time. I almost lost my favorite part of your anatomy.” She strokes me. I push her hand away. “You’ve got your wallet, but don’t even think of using a debit or credit card…”
“Wait, wait, wait!”
She undoes her seatbelt and turns to face me. “What?”