No more debate. You’re leaving. Now. All possessions and work items will be at your next destination within the hour. Let me repeat: on security issues, this is not a democracy. If you choose not to leave immediately, I will consider that you have chosen to forego Black Raven protection and our employment contract, which each of you signed, will be void.” He glanced at Samantha. “Not an option for you.”
Eric stood, his cheeks flushed red. Instead of arguing, he gulped down the water, slammed the glass down hard enough to rattle the covered dishes on the table, and gave a headshake of frustration in Zeus’s direction.
“Put the vests on over your clothes by loosening the side straps and pulling it over your head,” Zeus instructed. “Adjust the shoulder straps so the bottom of the vest sits above your navel. We’re taking stairs, going through the kitchen, and exiting through service doors. We’ll direct which car you’re to go into as we exit.”
As she undid the Velcro side straps, Samantha glanced at each member of her team. Abe and Charles were complying. Eric stood still, his face red, his breathing rapid. Dear God, is he going to continue to argue with Zeus? She slipped the vest over her head and gave him a pointed look. “Eric?” she asked. “It’s a waste of time to argue.” Zeus is immovable . “I need you to comply.”
Her second chair attorney gave her a frantic, panicked glance as he clutched his throat with both hands. His knees buckled and foam spittle flew from his mouth. He gagged a harsh, rattling breath. Yellowish, foamy liquid gurgled out of his mouth.
Horrified, Sam started across the room to grab Eric before he crashed into the table.
“Ragno, Eric Moss collapsed. Fast-acting poison, I suspect. Call 112 and get our medics here ASAP.” Zeus’s commands came fast, but his tone was level and calm. “Alert marshals and ITT security. Lewis—stay with Eric. Communicate with our medics. Small—find that waiter. Sam—stop.”
An ironclad grip on her forearm jerked her to a halt as Eric fell half across the dinner table.
“Lambert. Axel. Get your clients out of here. Move!”
Food and plates jettisoned in the air. He hit the carpeted floor with a jarring thud as plates, food, and silverware landed around and on top of him. His face and neck flamed red and his eyes rolled back as he struggled for a gurgling breath, his hands on his neck.
Her mind registered Agent Lambert pulling Abe past her and Agent Axel pushing Charles through the doorway, but her gaze was focused on Eric. His feet flutter-kicked, as his body bent and contorted with the effort of trying to breathe. Zeus’s grip had tightened on her arm to the point of pain. He was turning her in the direction of the doorway. She struggled to break free from his grasp, slapping at his hand that had a death grip on her right bicep. Not loosening the grip, he stepped in front of her. His body became an impervious wall of solid flesh, blocking her vision of Eric.
Dark eyes held hers. “Walk out.”
“No.”
He placed a firm hand on her left shoulder, strong-arming her in a restrained push. If he had wanted to push her six feet into the hallway, he could have, with a fraction of his strength. “Go now.”
“I won’t leave him.”
He bent at the waist, crouched into a squat, gripped her wrist with his right hand, and slung her over his shoulders. As he stood, his left arm folded over her calves, pressing her legs against his chest and down his body. Her eyeglasses fell on the floor with a soft thud.
“Let. Me. Down.” His shoulder dug into her belly with each step he took. Her left hand was her only limb that was free. She punched him in the back, the action as effective as punching a steel wall. There was no sign he felt her hammer-fisted punches while her wrist screamed from the strain. Her effort didn’t slow his pace.
He went down the hallway and to the stairs. “Small and Lewis, keep talking. Teams for Small
Eric stood, his cheeks flushed red. Instead of arguing, he gulped down the water, slammed the glass down hard enough to rattle the covered dishes on the table, and gave a headshake of frustration in Zeus’s direction.
“Put the vests on over your clothes by loosening the side straps and pulling it over your head,” Zeus instructed. “Adjust the shoulder straps so the bottom of the vest sits above your navel. We’re taking stairs, going through the kitchen, and exiting through service doors. We’ll direct which car you’re to go into as we exit.”
As she undid the Velcro side straps, Samantha glanced at each member of her team. Abe and Charles were complying. Eric stood still, his face red, his breathing rapid. Dear God, is he going to continue to argue with Zeus? She slipped the vest over her head and gave him a pointed look. “Eric?” she asked. “It’s a waste of time to argue.” Zeus is immovable . “I need you to comply.”
Her second chair attorney gave her a frantic, panicked glance as he clutched his throat with both hands. His knees buckled and foam spittle flew from his mouth. He gagged a harsh, rattling breath. Yellowish, foamy liquid gurgled out of his mouth.
Horrified, Sam started across the room to grab Eric before he crashed into the table.
“Ragno, Eric Moss collapsed. Fast-acting poison, I suspect. Call 112 and get our medics here ASAP.” Zeus’s commands came fast, but his tone was level and calm. “Alert marshals and ITT security. Lewis—stay with Eric. Communicate with our medics. Small—find that waiter. Sam—stop.”
An ironclad grip on her forearm jerked her to a halt as Eric fell half across the dinner table.
“Lambert. Axel. Get your clients out of here. Move!”
Food and plates jettisoned in the air. He hit the carpeted floor with a jarring thud as plates, food, and silverware landed around and on top of him. His face and neck flamed red and his eyes rolled back as he struggled for a gurgling breath, his hands on his neck.
Her mind registered Agent Lambert pulling Abe past her and Agent Axel pushing Charles through the doorway, but her gaze was focused on Eric. His feet flutter-kicked, as his body bent and contorted with the effort of trying to breathe. Zeus’s grip had tightened on her arm to the point of pain. He was turning her in the direction of the doorway. She struggled to break free from his grasp, slapping at his hand that had a death grip on her right bicep. Not loosening the grip, he stepped in front of her. His body became an impervious wall of solid flesh, blocking her vision of Eric.
Dark eyes held hers. “Walk out.”
“No.”
He placed a firm hand on her left shoulder, strong-arming her in a restrained push. If he had wanted to push her six feet into the hallway, he could have, with a fraction of his strength. “Go now.”
“I won’t leave him.”
He bent at the waist, crouched into a squat, gripped her wrist with his right hand, and slung her over his shoulders. As he stood, his left arm folded over her calves, pressing her legs against his chest and down his body. Her eyeglasses fell on the floor with a soft thud.
“Let. Me. Down.” His shoulder dug into her belly with each step he took. Her left hand was her only limb that was free. She punched him in the back, the action as effective as punching a steel wall. There was no sign he felt her hammer-fisted punches while her wrist screamed from the strain. Her effort didn’t slow his pace.
He went down the hallway and to the stairs. “Small and Lewis, keep talking. Teams for Small
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