“Stay low and try to get out the back door,” Pitt whispered.
He retrieved a roll of paper towels from the bench and held one end to the red-hot burner. Another pop, and a small chunk of the corner bench disintegrated next to his hand. Pitt could hear the woman moving closer as the paper ignited. He held it to the spilled alcohol until it began to burn, then tossed the flaming roll toward the intruder.
The alcohol on the floor ignited in a low flame that burned across the lab to the bottle, which flared in a small blaze. The woman had to dodge the incoming paper towels, then stomp at the fire around her.
Pitt turned to Elise. “Go!”
He flicked the hot burner over onto a plastic lab tray, then popped up and hurled the two soda cans. The first missed, but the second clipped the woman on the side of the head. Pitt used the opportunity to move closer to the exit, diving over the next lab bench while knocking a computer monitor to the floor.
The distraction allowed Elise to sprint to the door and burst into the hallway as the armed woman regained her composure and squeezed another shot off at Pitt.
The burner melted the plastic tray and began filling the lab with thick black smoke. Pitt used the cover to crawl along the next workbench, grab an armful of glass beakers from above him, and wing them in the shooter’s general direction. One shattered against the wall next to the intruder, temporarily halting her. The smoldering tray finally activated a fire alarm, which began blaring throughout the building. The woman froze.
Pitt knew what was coming next. It would be his only chance to escape. He crawled to the end of the workbench and peered at the exit less than ten feet away. Just beyond the door sat a cart overflowing with testing equipment.
Palming the last of his beakers, he hurled it blindly toward the woman, trying to buy a few more seconds. It took longer than he hoped, but at last the burning plastic did its work. With a sudden swoosh, the overhead fire sprinklers engaged, dowsing the bay in a heavy downpour of water.
Pitt bolted for the door, then ran past it to the cart of equipment. He ducked behind it, gave it a quick shove down the aisle, and reached for the doorknob.
The assassin squinted through the streaming water and fired three shots, which were all absorbed by the equipment rolling toward her.
Pitt pushed open the door and burst into the hall. He managed only one step before halting in his tracks.
Elise stood a few feet away. Her chin was raised high, but her dark eyes pleaded with Pitt. She tried to speak. No sound came from her lips. For around her neck was the arm of the assailant, locking her throat in a tight chokehold.
17
Pitt needed only a second to take in the scene. He ignored the thundering fire alarm and flashing red lights and focused on the man gripping Elise. He was the man who’d been carrying the two packages, which now sat on the floor next to the thick valise. Lean, but powerfully built, he had short hair, a trimmed beard, and impassive eyes. What he didn’t have was a weapon.
“Keep her,” Pitt said, reaching down to pick up the two boxes.
The assailant muttered, “No.” He eased his hold on Elise and reached out to snatch the boxes ahead of Pitt.
Pitt had anticipated the move. He sprang up into the man, launching his left fist in a powerful uppercut that caught the man squarely on the jaw.
The man’s head snapped back, and his knees quivered. Still clutching the packages, he freed his grip on Elise as he sank to the floor.
Pitt grabbed Elise and pulled her down the corridor. The fire alarm had sent students and faculty scurrying, and a small crowd converged on the
stairwell. Pitt knifed through the crowd, dragging Elise with him. Once they were on the steps, he glanced back and saw the armed woman burst from the lab—and holster her gun at the sight of her disabled partner and the crowd. Pitt kept pushing Elise forward, and they raced up the stairs.
An even larger throng congregated on the main floor. Pitt and Elise followed the herd outside, crossed the street, and moved east. They hesitated at the sound of a muffled explosion that seemed to originate from the basement. Following a small group of students down the street, they entered the grounds of an animal husbandry farm and slipped into a barn filled with goats.
Pitt watched to see if they were being followed, then guided Elise to his Jeep in the nearby parking lot. Once at the vehicle, he made two phone calls. The first, to the campus police, reported the murder of Dr. Nakamura and provided descriptions of the assailants. The second was a brief call to Gunn at NUMA headquarters.
As he started the Jeep, he turned to Elise.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded without conviction.
Pitt took an indirect route around the campus football stadium, eyeing the cars behind him. Satisfied no one was tailing them, he caught the Capital Beltway to return to Virginia.
“I can’t believe Stephen is dead,” Elise said. “Why would somebody kill him . . . and try to kill us?”
“I think we’ll find that the explosion came from his office,” Pitt said. “The sealed box next to the professor’s desk, I’d guess. That’s why the assassins returned. They were afraid we might discover and disable it.”
“But why? What did Stephen do?”