Page 4 of Garrison's Creed

They made their way down an elaborate hall. Oil paintings of New England landscapes and native animals were framed in gilded boxes and lit by brass fixtures.

“They’re bringing you in,” he said as casually as if they talked about the change in the seasons.

“You?”

“No.”

“Why me?”

“Not my call.”

“Who else is here?” Or in other words, why was Cash here?

“Just the two of us.”

“I didn’t know about you. Maybe you don’t know about someone else.”

“Maybe.”

Not the answer she wanted, though she wouldn’t believe any answer he gave if it were a definite yes or no.

He handed her a drink and napkin from a side table. “Extraction directions are in your cocktail napkin. You leave tonight. Take this to the bathroom, and move as directed.”

“This is because of the patio?”

“What?”

“I was supposed to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow.”

“Change of plan.”

“Why?”

“Not sure, other than Antilla was eliminated.”

“What do we have on that?”

“Wasn’t us.”

“What—”

“You need to move. Go. Follow the directions. The extraction team is ready to pull you out in five minutes.”

The butler turned and walked away, leaving her, drink in hand. Nicola sipped her lemonade and headed for the specified bathroom. She took in the empty lounging area and vanity counters and entered a quiet bathroom stall, closing the door behind her. She unfolded the edges of the napkin. It was blank.What the hell?

She held it to the light. Nothing. No ink. No code. No marks.

She’d been made. Confirmed it herself. Fucking safe phrase wasn’t worth shit if someone unsafe knew it existed. Her pulse thumped in her neck. Her ears strained to hear the incoming attack. She was trapped, save the narrow window that opened two stories above a terrace. The window was tall but skinny. She might not fit. No time to overthink it, and thank God, she’d skipped dinner. Nicola chucked off her heels, lifted her skirt, and palmed her Beretta.

Despite grabbing a fancy, overstuffed pillow for use as a makeshift silencer, the shot was loud when she blew out the window. Hoisting herself up to the sill, she looked over her shoulder to see her extraction team,courtesy of the butler, blow through the outer door. No time to second-guess her next move, and oh, the landing would hurt. Barefoot, she sucked in a breath and pushed through the shattered frame.

Glass shards scraped her chest and back as she sidestepped through. Teetering for a hot second on the outside, she realized that the window frame was too narrow. She couldn’t turn her head to look back at her attackers, but she felt hands grabbing at her dress. Before a hand could clamp around her calf, she leaped.

It felt like slow motion. Weightless, reaching for the sky, she floated in a sea of gold silk as her dressed billowed around her until she hit the manicured terrace lawn. Everything hurt. Her exit strategy wasn’t strategic, and it gave her zero chance to position for a tuck and roll, but it did do one very good thing. It kept dangerous men inside the house.

Bang. Bang. Pop.

The men were inside, but their guns shooting out the window had a wide open range. She pulled up as fast as she could manage. Dirt spat around her. Their shots missed but not by much. Nicola hobbled as fast as she could. They were, no doubt, regrouping and busting ass to get her on the terrace.

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