combing the cubicles. There’s at least ten of them, probably more. Two or three guys that sound like they’re in charge. They noticed the hard drives were missing. Whose idea was that?”
“Mine,” affirmed Anna.
“Smart. Pissed ‘em off. But smart.”
“Are you going to be able to make it to the exit?”
“Don’t know. Let’s see.”
The phone went quiet for a moment; only the sound of his breathing came through. He was opening the storage room door.
“I don’t see anyone. Oh, wait. Yep. There’s two near the front,” he whispered, “but everyone else is gone. They’re probably heading your way, Greg. It’s the biggest hallway.”
He felt the fear grip his throat. “We’re ready.”
“I think we’re going to try for the back doors while we have the chance. I’m going to leave my phone on, but putting it in my pocket. Okay?”
“Good luck, Liam.”
“Be safe, everyone.”
Then everything muffled over, like they’d been dropped into a tank of water. They could hear whispers, shuffling, the sounds of rustling and fabrics and the squeak of a rubber sole, then a loud rhythmic rushing sound. He must be running.
Suddenly, there was a metallic clunk; they’d reached the door. Then came the sounds of air, gravel being thrown aside as they moved, sirens from far away. Gregor had to remind himself to breathe he was so engrossed in listening. There were more rushing noises and two indiscernible shouts. Then a loud scratching noise.
“Guys? You there?”
“Yes!” Anna and Gregor breathed in unison.
“We’ve just made it out, but it was close. I think someone saw us. We’re going to keep running. I’m getting another call. Gotta go.”
“Wait!”
The other line went dead. Anna sighed.
“Greg, keep me on the line, okay?”
“Yes. But I’m going to put you in my pocket too. We’ve got to round up some pipes or something.”
“Okay.”
“Hey.”
“What?”
“It’ll all be over soon, Anna.”
“Yeah.”
Gregor slid his mobile into his front khaki pocket and turned to face his companions.
“Okay. They might be heading our way. I’m going to go out and look for anything we can arm ourselves with. Arthur, you come with me. You four stay here. Owen, if they come through those doors,” he pointed, “lock this gate. Keep yourselves safe. Got it?”
“You’re barking mad if you think I’d just leave you two out there.”
“Owen. Come on. It’s protocol.”
“Well, fuck protocol.”
“Jesus. Fine. Just stay here for now.”
The two men slid the rolling cage door just wide enough to squeeze through, flicking on their phone flashlights to illuminate the concrete floor. He knew there was a tool bag somewhere over towards the wall, feeling his way along the scratchy bricks. Finally his toe slammed against something.
“Arthur! Hey!” he whispered, picking up the heavy bag. “Take this. Go back to the cage. Give everyone a wrench or something.”
“And where do you think you’re going?”
“I think I saw a pipe up ahead. I’m gonna grab it and come back to meet you. Go on.”
The younger man heaved the bag and turned to jog as best as he could back to the rest of their team. Gregor was alone. He heard the rattling of the cage door. But wait, that was coming from the wrong direction. The cage was back to his left. He spun around, using his hands on the wall to guide the way until he spotted that flashing red light. The noise was coming from just below it—the double doors. Someone was trying to get in.
8. March 8, 2017. 6:29 P.M. Istanbul, Turkey.
Altan and Sule stopped to take a collective breath before approaching their friends’ home. The estate was expansive, with whitewashed walls broken in spots by tall iron gates, twin pairs of palms lining the driveway and walkways, and three jeweled water fountains. There was no amount of riches, though, that could overpower the dense feeling of sorrow that hung in the air. In their arms lay a feast that