Page 76 of James

Satisfied with her progress, she committed her files to the version control system, Laura cleared up her workstation, and went to wait by the elevators for James.

When the elevator door opened a few minutes after later, it was not James standing there, but a taller man who bore only a superficial resemblance to James. He advanced quickly on her and a rush of fear coursed through her veins when she recognized the unmistakable shape of a gun concealed beneath his coat, pointed directly at her.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Laura stammered.

“What’s going on, Ms. Turner, is that you’re coming with me.” The man came closer and put his arm around her to conceal the gun that was now against her side. He pulled her into the elevator and pushed the button for the parking garage, but it didn’t take.

Shakily, Laura said, “You can’t get to the garage without a key card, and I don’t have one.”

The barrel of the gun dug hard into her side.

“Why not?” he demanded.

“I don’t have a car, so there’s no reason for me to have one. The only floor you can go to from here without a card is the ground, where there’s a security guard waiting.”

“Okay, but if you let out a peep, you’re a dead woman, remember that.”

The elevator made it to the ground floor and the door opened to the sight of James arguing with the security guard.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

James stood in front of the security guard at Laura's building, frustration building inside him. He tried to keep his composure, but the sheer absurdity of the situation made it difficult. Although he was not a violent man, he found himself fantasizing about just decking the guy and going upstairs.

"Look, can you just call up and tell Laura Turner that James Black is here to pick her up? She’ll straighten this out."

“I’ve already spoken to Ms. Turner.”

“Well, speak to her again!” he demanded, his voice rising despite his best efforts. He calmed himself and started over. "I am James Black. Look, I have my ID right here." James reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, slapping down his driver’s license for the guard to see.

The guard scrutinized the ID for a moment, frowning.

“Here’s my business card, here’s my credit card… here’s my old Blockbuster card, for God’s sake! What is the problem?”

“The problem…” The guard cleared his throat, brows knitted with confusion and growing concern. “Ah, the problem is, you’re already here.”

Before James could fully process that, the elevator dinged its arrival.

As the elevator doors slid open, he saw Laura, but instead of relief, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Even before she moved, something about her posture made his hands draw into fists. She stepped out into the hallway with an uncharacteristic stiffness and caution, her every step measured and deliberate. Her face appeared calm at first glance – she was even smiling – but her eyes were wide and glassy with fear.

And she wasn’t alone. The man sharing the elevator stepped out with her, too close, his arm was unnaturally positioned behind her, and his cold eyes assessed James as James assessed him.

“Mr. Black,” the guard called. “Can you and Ms. Turner just step over here for a moment?”

“Call 911!" James barked at the guard, without taking his eyes off Laura and the man.

Every fiber of his being screamed at him to protect Laura. He attempted to regulate his breathing, consciously slowing it down, his eyes fixed on Laura and the man. He forced himself to keep a safe distance, keeping his eyes locked on the other man, fully aware of the volatile situation unraveling before him.

"Let her go," James commanded, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Why should I?” The man smirked and gave Laura a shake. “I’ve got all the cards here. I have your girl and agun. What do you have? A scared old man hiding under his desk.”

James stood tall, refusing to cower. He had to keep his wits about him. The adrenaline surged through his veins as he met the man's challenge. “The police are on their way. Let her go and run. No one will try to stop you. You can still get away free and clear.”

A sinister smile played on the man's lips as he dismissed James's words. “I didn’t hear no phone call, did you?” he taunted. “All I hear is an old man pissing his diapers and shaking in his arch supports. I’m leaving, all right,” he sneered, shoving Laura forward another few stumbling steps. “And if you or Grampa do anything stupid, I’ll blow her brains out. My boss would rather have her alive, but dead solves his problems just as well. Up to you, hero.”

With a quick, calculated movement, James took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the man's threatening gaze. “Over my dead body,” he declared, his voice tinged with an unyielding resolve.

“You watch too many movies, pal,” the other man told him, not without a hint of real humor. “In my world, the hero don’t win. But I appreciate your devotion to the bit, so I’ll tell you what.”

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