Gilded Cage

Without warning, Brandon seized her and lifted her off the ground. Lillian went along with his game. She closed her eyes, pretending to have fainted. He stormed into the corridor, shouting, “We’ve been attacked. Help us!”

She couldn’t see without blowing her cover, but judging from their reactions, those men weren’t well versed in English. Brandon repeated it in broken Japanese. Lillian heard men running, then four gunshots. Bodies tumbled on the plush carpet. She had to open her eyes.

Lillian saw four men splayed in the corridor. Stanford’s men. She bit her lip, squelching an urge to scream. Brandon didn’t even flinch. His face was masked by an eerie calmness just like when he was in the elevator.

“Can you walk? Actually, we need to run.”

“Y-yes.”

As soon as Brandon put her back on the feet, he yanked her hand and dragged her into a run. Lillian struggled to keep up with him. They stormed through another maze of corridors until he kicked open a service maintenance door. The room was a housekeeping station. Rows of clean linen were stacked on metal shelves. There were dozens of huge canvas carts filled with dirty laundry.

Brandon tugged her to a nearby empty cart. “Get in.”

Lillian climbed in. Brandon checked his watch again. He also jumped in and started covering them with dirty linen from the next cart. He settled beside her, stuck one arm out and kept snatching more linen until they were hidden. Lillian groped around to find Brandon’s hand. She needed to hold him, something, to calm her overtaxed nerves. Brandon found her instead and drew her against his chest. His lips pressed to her temple. His breath was shallow.

“Close your eyes, don’t move, don’t make a sound until I tell you we’re safe,” he whispered. “We’ll be out soon.”

She squeezed his hand as ‘yes’ and remained quiet. The room was silent. The only noise they could hear was the occasional hum from the central air conditioning system. Lillian shut her eyes and vowed she wouldn’t squeak a noise no matter what.

They waited.

It felt like forever until she heard the doors open and the chatter of workers entering the room. Brandon stiffened. She could feel him move his gun up. The linen that buried them drowned the noise of the housekeeping crew. Lillian could only make out one or two bits of it. They were going to haul the carts into the trucks. An immense relief washed over her as she fully understood Brandon’s plan. It was a brilliant one. She’d doubted him at first, as the thought of smuggling her out from the impeccably tight security measures seemed impossible at the time. She was glad she’d been wrong. Brandon Shea was different.

She’d fallen in love with him already.

The caterwauling noise from the cart’s wheels loomed when the crew started wheeling the carts out. Lillian waited for their turn in sheer anxiety. Her heart leapt when their cart moved. It shuddered and bounced as they exited the housekeeping station to the service elevator, down to the ground floor and out to the waiting trucks.

She stilled and prayed hard that they would make their escape alive. The air around them thinned and sweat started to bead her face. Lillian arranged her breathing, slowing it down to conserve the oxygen. Brandon’s breathing was also sparse. She slid her face on his chest. He tightened his hand briefly, giving her comfort. Their cart rolled and rolled with its rickety wheels until a sudden jerk startled her out of her wits. The cart was being pushed into a truck.

“Shit…heavy…one.”

Lillian heard a man complaining about their cart.

“…lazy. Get to…jackass,” snapped another.

“Shut up.”

The bickering faded away and they were left with placid silence. Lillian didn’t dare move. Brandon hadn’t told her to. She remained frozen until she heard the engine running. The truck shuddered then drove off. Lillian halted her breath, squeezing her eyes shut. They’d made it. She was free.

Brandon moved. He jabbed his hand above his head and clawed his way out from the dirty linen. Lillian gasped for breath. Fresh air became abundant to enjoy. She filled her lungs leisurely.

The truck was dark, but some filtered light seeped from the crack of the loading door illuminating the inside of the steel-encased interior. Brandon was smiling when she opened her eyes.

“I guess we made it,” he whispered.

He was the most breathtaking sight she’d ever seen. My hero. Mine.

Lillian grabbed his face and planted a deep kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

She could swear Brandon was flustered. His face coloured. Very cute, considering who he was. He hadn’t even flinched when he’d tasered Yamazaki. Or when he’d been forced to kill Stanford’s men. Yet he blushed when she kissed him.

“You don’t need to…but you’re welcome.”

Her grin sprang out before she realised.

“We’re not out of the woods, yet. We need to get out of here first.”

Lillian wasn’t worried. With Brandon by her side, she could face anything.