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by the floodlights on the side of the building. He had no intention of killing anyone but Romero tonight if he could help it.

He came to a small door leading into a reception area. A security guard sat at a table playing on his phone. James knocked on the door. The guard almost fell off his chair. James looked him up and down with curiosity and gave him a toothy smile. His smart clothes would dispel any fears that he was a common criminal. As predicted, the security guard pressed a button. A large buzzing sound signalled the door unlocking.

“Evening, sir,” said the security guard. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing much,” James said. “I work here.”

“You got ID, sir?”

James sighed and put down the case with the rifle inside. He reached into his dark grey sports jacket and pulled out the suppressed Glock 19 he’d received from Raul.

“Oh shit.” The security guard threw himself back against the wall with his hands raised. “Wait, wait, wait…”

“Shhhh… don’t worry. I have no interest in killing you. Just pretend nothing’s happening. Come out from behind your desk. I know you have a panic button underneath.”

The security guard trembled as he shuffled out from behind the desk, knowing enough not to make any sudden movements. It was like Sinclair had said, a security guy earning nothing wouldn’t risk his life for any of these people.

“How many people are working here tonight?”

“There’s someone on every floor. Every floor except the 26th and up. They’re still under construction.”

“I see. They all like you?”

“I… don’t understand.”

“You’re not going to die for these people.”

The guard looked sheepish but nodded.

“Good. Is there a storeroom or something here?”

“Follow me, sir.”

With his hands in the air, the guard walked across reception to a bank of elevators. A few metres away, a nondescript white door set into the wall appeared anonymous and forgotten.

“I need to lower my hands, sir, if you want me to open it.”

James grunted his permission. The overweight guard dripped with sweat as he fumbled with his ring of keys. He took a few seconds to fit the right key into the lock. Turning it, the guard revealed a standard storeroom. Shelves of tools, tins of paint, and unrepaired furniture littered the tiny room.

“Give me your phone and the keys,” said James. “I’m going to lock you in. I trust you not to start shouting and screaming. Wait until the end of your shift and I won’t have to hurt you. You understand?”

The guard turned out his pockets and gave James two cell phones. James had to hand it to him. He’d expected to have to play hardball. At least the guy was honest.

“Thank you, sir. I won’t say anything, sir.”

“If anyone asks, you can say I knocked you out and threw you in here. I wouldn’t want you to lose your job over something that has nothing to do with you.”

“Thank you. Oh, just to tell you, take the elevator to the 27th floor. The 26th floor is where most of us go for smokes. You don’t have to worry about cameras. All the screens are behind my desk.”

“You’ve been a great help.”

After locking the guard inside, he returned to the desk and picked up his sniper rifle again. He cleared his throat and headed for the bank of elevators. So far so good.

“What’s happening? I heard you talking,” said Sinclair from afar. “I’m across the street from you. Nothing out of the ordinary. I can see the lights from the island. Romero might be in the garden now, but I can’t tell from here.”

“No problem. I’m on my way up. I don’t know what the conditions are like on the upper floors.” James called for the elevator. “You’ll need to tell me how far up I need to go.”

The elevator arrived with a ding. James observed the illuminating numbers above the elevator doors. He hoped the other security guards weren’t keeping an eye on the elevators or he might have trouble.

“Most of the construction has already been completed,” Sinclair confirmed. “It’s just everything inside. Only the upper floors are still skeletons, so you shouldn’t need to worry about wind conditions up there.

“Got it. How far?”

“Hard to say. You’ll have to judge that for yourself.”

James sighed as he pressed the button for the 27th floor. The elevator went no further than the 35th right now. He assumed the floors above that were still skeletons. As the elevator ascended the floors with a whirr, he tried to make a mental picture of how far up he would have to go to make the shot.

The illuminated numbers in the elevator crawled past at a painfully slow pace. It gave him time – too much time – to consider everything that could go wrong. Maybe the guard knew about an emergency lock inside the storeroom and had already pressed a panic button. Perhaps the guards had seen one of the elevators on the move and wanted to investigate. James had no intention of murdering any of these innocent people.

“Are you there yet?”

“Shut up,” said James. “I’m almost there now. I can’t talk until I know it’s clear.”

“Well, I don’t see anything that could go wrong from up there.”

James stopped responding as the elevator dinged to signal its arrival. The automatic doors slid open to reveal the 27th floor. To his surprise, the guard he’d taken hostage had told the complete truth. Instead of the gilded surroundings of reception, he encountered a faceless, undecorated construction site. Only a few lonely maintenance lights lit the way.

He stepped out of the elevator with his suppressed pistol clutched at his hip. This silence spooked him for a moment. For his own sake, he didn’t want to take the elevator again for fear of discovery.

“I’m

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