Page 42 of Courting Danger

“Anything?”

I gave her a quick, whispered summary of what I’d found, including Alex’s eyebrow ring.

She was silent for a moment with only the sound of her harsh breathing to let me know the call was still connected.

When she finally spoke, her words trembled but her voice held strong.

“Right. So, we’re on the right track. We just need to find him. I’ve been reviewing the security footage again. In one of the cameras, if you zoom in on the bottom corner, you can just see a taillight. I think it’s the same one as the van. It’s not far.”

“Wait,” I said quickly before she could hang up.

“What? If Alex is running out of air, then we need to move.”

“Not yet. Finding him won’t matter if we can’t get him out. This is a good place for our plan. Let’s take these guys out, then go find Alex.”

I could hear her grinding her teeth against the need to argue.

“Fine,” she snapped. “It’ll take me a minute, so hold on. Do you have what you need?”

I searched my pockets and found the medical mask I’d procured earlier. One of the benefits of the recent pandemic, everyone had a few of those lying around.

“Got it.”

“All right. In an open area like this, it won’t be enough to knock anyone out. Just disorient them.”

With the mask secured over my mouth and nose, I flexed my hands and listened to the knuckles crack.

“That’s all I need.”

A minute passed. Then two. I kept an eye focused on the second floor and waited.

Impatience throbbed under my skin. I wanted to run off and find Alex just as much as Ghita did, but logic won out. This was the best course of action, no matter how badly it chaffed.

Finally, Ghita’s silhouette peeked over the edge of the second floor. She tossed something into the air, which landed in the middle of the courtyard.

Several people shouted in surprise as they turned to see a water bottle rolling across the ground.

“What the hell?” someone said, tapping the bottle with their toe.

The liquid inside churned, and the bottle exploded. A thick gas billowed into the air, causing everyone in a ten-foot radius to gag and stumble around.

Several more water bottles rained down on the courtyard. Each one exploded upon impact, adding more gas to the air.

Apparently, one could make a rough chemical bomb by mixing the right substances together in a small container, like a water bottle, and sealing the top. Then just shake and throw.

I had dealt with homemade bombs before during my years of service, but never one this crude. It was barely ranked above a high school science project, but it worked. Everyone around the courtyard hacked and coughed, and those closest to the water bottles fell to their knees, disoriented.

Diving out from under the bulldozer, I ran for the nearest enemy. The medical mask helped, but it couldn’t keep all the gas out of my lungs. Each breath burned, so I tried not to inhale too much. Fortunately, the construction site’s open air diluted the gas enough so it wouldn’t harm me.

Unfortunately, I had no way to cover my eyes. My vision started watering the moment the first water bottle exploded. I needed to end it and get out of the contaminated area as quickly as possible.

I moved between the gas clouds, darting from one person to the next and knocking them out with precise blows. A few people managed to fight back, swinging wild haymakers at me, or reaching for whatever weapon they could find. Those people I was less gentle with, slamming the butt of my gun into their temples to leave them slumped on the ground.

In just a few minutes, every enemy lay unconscious as the gas dissipated into the wind.

Ghita waved both her arms to get my attention from the second-floor scaffolding. “Great job,” she shouted down. “Now, come on. The van is over this way.”

We found the van parked at the edge of the construction site, on the opposite side from where we’d broken in. It sat behind a brick wall, almost completely hidden from view, with its back doors thrown wide open.

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