The Double

Ten floors, up this time instead of down. I went up them three at a time, heart pounding, muscles screaming. I had no idea how much time was left and I couldn’t stop to check. By the eighth floor, my hamstrings and calves were screaming. Nine and I was staggering, sweat slicking my brow. Ten—

I stumbled out into the hallway. Carrie’s door was dead ahead, what felt like a mile away. I growled and forced my legs into a run. As I neared the door, I could hear a clock chiming—

I burst through the door, almost taking it off its hinges. And there she was: Carrie. The woman who’d pursued me since the day I’d set foot in New York. The woman who’d sent so many of my men to jail. Her eyes widened as she’d recognized me: him, here, in my office?!

“Get down!” I yelled, but I didn’t wait for her to comply. I slammed into her, carrying us both towards the floor—

There was the sound of breaking glass. A tight little hole appeared in the huge window, the glass frosting white around it. Something sliced into my arm.

And then we were sprawling on the carpet behind her desk, me half on top of her. She stared at me. Then she looked up at the fresh bullet hole on the wall, right behind where she’d been standing.

Credit to her, she didn’t waste time arguing or asking questions. She slapped her hand over my injured arm, pressing to stop the bleeding. With her other hand, she heaved on the cord of her desk phone until it tumbled off the desk and fell down to her. Then she started yelling orders into it, telling her people to surround the building across the street.

It was almost five minutes before Calahan and Hailey arrived, accompanied by a small army of FBI agents. Calahan had a black eye and was limping a little, but he was grinning. “It’s okay,” he told us, offering me his hand. “Look.”

I took his hand and heaved myself to my feet, then helped Carrie up. Through the window, we could see the sniper on the rooftop of the building across the street. He had his hands up, and armed FBI agents were advancing towards him.

Carrie looked at Calahan, then at Hailey, then at me. She crossed her arms. “Okay,” she said. “I’m listening.”

I gave a long sigh of relief and sat down heavily on the edge of her desk. Hailey ran over and threw herself against me and I wrapped her in my arms.

Everything was going to be okay.

65

Hailey

CONSCIOUSNESS returned slowly. It was the cold that hit me first. I was lying on something hard and freezing and I could feel wind blowing across my body: was I outdoors? And the wind was chilling me more than it should, as if my skin was wet.

Then a smell that seared my nostrils and made me cough. Chlorine.

I opened my eyes and tried to focus, blinking away water. A towering slab of white rose above me. I heard shouts that sounded familiar, then a car start up and roar away, but I was too dazed to put it together. I stared up at the building.

A balcony. I fell from a balcony.

A man in a black suit stepped into my vision. Then another and another, surrounding me, all of them holding guns. “Get up,” one of them commanded, but I just lay there, still stunned. His accent was heavy, Russian. These are Ralavich’s men. But where were Konstantin and Calahan? I remembered the car I’d heard roar away. But… I fought the rising panic. Come on, they wouldn’t just leave me…

One of the men reached for me. I shrank back against the concrete. Do they know I’m FBI? Should I tell them or would that make things worse? I glanced down at my suit, wondering whether to pull out my badge—

My suit wasn’t there. In its place was a soaked red dress. I froze. Why am I wearing Christina’s clothes?

The man grabbed my shoulder and hauled me to my feet. The top of the dress flopped down: the zipper at the back hadn’t been fastened. I scrambled to fix it as they dragged me towards an SUV, not liking the way they were leering at me. “Wait, where are you—” I began.

They pushed me into the back seat and climbed in after me, trapping me between two of them. “We’re taking you to Ralavich,” one of them said. He shook his head, then gave me a cruel grin: better you than me. “You messed up. He’s not happy.”

Oh God. Oh Jesus, no... They thought I was Christina! I must have been knocked out, when we hit the water, and she’d quickly switched clothes with me. Which meant... shit! She must have run off with Konstantin and Calahan. She was being me... and she’d left me for Ralavich to find. “Wait,” I told the men, my voice tight with fear. “Wait. I’m—”