Cal barges through Gillian's office door roughly, making the glass tremor under his shove. "Get under the desk," he demands immediately, his voice almost a hush; contradictory. Gillian, startled at first by his abrupt entrance, moves to amused quite quickly. But she doesn't even get to start to ask him what he is going on about before he's at her side; he grabs her by the upper arm, simultaneously pulling on her, tugging her up, and rolling her office chair back from the desk.

"Ow Cal," she exclaims, worried now, by his behaviour.

"Shh," he shushes her harshly. He manages to manhandle her out of her chair with one arm, and she does help him, his other hand is holding his closed laptop. Gillian isn't sure whether she should be mad at him, or, after seeing the fear in his eyes, scared. He shoves her down, by the shoulder, to seriously insist she get under her desk and she obliges, mostly because he seems to be having a psychotic break and her first instinct is to not aggravate him further and get herself hurt further.

Cal gets down beside her, shoving the laptop practically in her face, then reaching for her office chair and pulling it back towards him so it encloses the gap. Gillian, heart pounding despite the ludicrousness, is about to ask him again what the hell he is doing, getting annoyed now, her left upper arm throbbing painfully, when Cal settles next to her, looks over and places a finger against his lips in the universal signal for 'be quiet'. Then he takes the laptop back. Gently, now.

"What is going on?" Gillian asks him anyway, in a harsh whisper. He gives her a glare, then goes back to logging in to the laptop. His fingers are careful against the keys, making as little noise as possible. Gillian is sitting on her feet, her heels digging into her backside and her neck craned right over so it's just about on his shoulder; there is not enough room for two adults to sit under there. Cal seems to sit quite comfortably, cross legged, the laptop against his thighs. He brings up the security feed and hones in on the cameras right outside of her office. There are three. One that way, one this way and the other only has peripheral vision because it's pointed towards the front entrance. As Gillian watches, she can see a man walking down the corridor, right to her office door. She holds her breath on instinct and Cal turns towards her again, his finger on his lips again; as if she needs convincing now. Gillian looks back to the screen and as the man pushes on her office door, she can see he has a gun in his other hand.

Gillian doesn't realise it, but not only is she holding her breath, but she's gripping Cal's arm way too tightly. She can just about feel her fingernails oozing slowly into his flesh, even through his sports coat, but he doesn't flinch her away and she can't seem to bring herself to let go. The man in the doorway looks around but Gillian can't see his face; there is no camera in her office and he's no longer facing towards the cameras outside it. He's wearing jeans and a dark green army jacket. His hair is blondish, long and he seems familiar. It tugs at Gillian's brain but she can't place him; fear keeps all aspects of her still. She can feel Cal rigid against her, holding his breath too, as the man looks in, no more than five feet away from them. She gets it now. She gets why they had to hide.

Gillian watches on screen as the man leans out of her office again, letting the door bang back into place; he's no longer being subtle about it. He turns and heads across the way to Cal's office and she sees his face, gets a really good look. Oh. Him. Cal looks over at her, his question silent, but loud and she nods. It's her. This man is here for her. She panics a look over to Cal but he's just watching her neutrally. She reaches to tap the keys on the keyboard, she needs to change the view; they have employees.

She doesn't get a chance. Cal shifts, grabs her arm, dislodges her fingernails. They awkwardly climb out from beneath her desk, but they are quiet. Cal gestures again that she should be silent and she just about gives him an eye roll; it's freaking more than implied.

Gillian doesn't need the laptop to know the man has gone into Cal's office; she can see now that the way is clear. Cal grabs her hand, swinging the laptop in his left and goes to the door. He has to let her go to open it, but once is snaps back on the mechanism that will keep it open, he grabs her again and they start a very quick walk down the corridor. Gillian's not sure where they're meant to be going, but she figures the exit would be a good start, so she's surprised again when Cal tugs her in the other direction. Her heels clip loudly against the floor, despite trying to walk on her toes, and she lets out a little strangled noise and then there's a loud bang and she's instinctively shying, making herself smaller. Cal pulls her sharply against his chest and then they're ducking into the nearest room.

The break room. That's really not the best place for them to be. It's floor to ceiling glass and completely exposed but Cal keeps moving, not looking back, dragging her behind him as he crosses the room. Gillian stumbles out of a shoe and bumps into a table, but between her desperate desire to escape, and Cal physically egging her on, she barely stops, or registers the pain of her ankle and leg; she quickly kicks away the other shoe and it's a lot easier to move. The ground is cold. They keep going, out through the opposite door and around the corner. There's another loud bang and Gillian can hear a window shatter, she can then feel the soft rain drop thrumming of glass falling against her head and neck.

Cal does not slow down and he's practically running now. Gillian hurries after him and he cuts across the corridor to barge into the next room. The lab. A door with a lock. He lets go of Gillian to punch in the code and the mechanics sound, locking the door behind them. Cal turns and sees Gillian standing there watching him. Her relief is only slightly tempered. He grabs her hand again, moving her further across the room, away from the glass door, that really, will not stop a man with a gun. The Cube is the only thing that's bullet proof and that's across the way. They should have gone there. They should have left.

Cal ditches his laptop roughly and logs himself into the security feed on one of the lab computers. He brings the feed up on the big screen and Gillian watches the man heading down the corridor, almost right opposite where they are now. Her breath his heavy as she waits, dread heavy in her stomach. She doesn't know where to go next. They're almost trapped. But the man heads into the room right across the corridor. A supply closet. But it's large enough that if he decides to check in the back, it might buy them a minute.

He does.

"Who is that guy?" Cal asks sharply, coming towards her, getting in her face.

"He's," Gillian thinks back. What was his name? She doesn't even remember. That's how much she thought she'd see him again.

"He's here for you though?" Cal presses.

"I think so," Gillian tries. She looks around. "Where is everybody else?"

"Have you not seen the time?" Cal gives her one of those looks, one of those condescending looks that she sometimes wants to slap off his face. But she checks her watch and he's right. It's really late. It's summer. The sun is only starting to set.

Gillian sighs, feeling a little more of the tension escape, and then she sees the man leave the supply closet and head further down the corridor, to the door that leads to the Cube and she realises they're wasting valuable escape time having a conversation. She can feel fear prickling along the back of her shoulders. She steps towards a phone. "What are you doing?" Cal asks softly.

"Calling the police," she tells him. But as she picks up the phone she can hear there is no dial tone. Damn it. "Phone?" She turns to her business partner.

Cal snatches the handset out of her hand and checks it himself, then tosses it to the desktop where it clatters and falls to the floor. He looks disgusted. "Where's your phone?" Gillian asks him again, impatiently, half tempted to bodily search him; the panic seems to be building again, rising up out of her control.

"In my bloody office," Cal shoots back. He gives a huff.

"Yeah mine too," Gillian responds gently.

"What the bloody hell Gillian?" Cal looks over at her. "How do you know this guy?"

"From a case."

"Which one?" Cal doesn't even seem surprised.

"The one with the church compound and the IRS."

Cal stares at her for a moment. "From last year?"

"Yes," Gillian answers quickly. She doesn't want to be having this conversation there. They need to get moving again, get to safety.

"Guy knows how to hold a grudge. What did you do to him?"

"We need to think about getting out of here," Gillian tries to change the subject. "He's in the cube," she shoves past Cal to get to the keyboard and changes the feed to the other room. The man is walking around, the gun casually at his side, checking all the dark corners. Really, there is only a giant glass box in that room. It won't be long until he comes out again. On this side of the corridor there are toilets, and the lab. They really don't have a lot of time to make a move, if they're going to make one. And they can't just stay where they are.

"My office," Cal suggests on a murmur.

Gillian looks over at him. Up at him, a little, now that she doesn't have any shoes on. Suddenly, she can feel her arm and her leg aching. Something slides down her back, and it doesn't feel good.

"Phone, gun, solid walls," Cal points out. "He's already looked there."

"How did he even know I was here?" Gillian muses.

"Can we work that one out later?" Cal grabs her arm, her right arm this time, spread those bruises around, and tugs her to the door. Not the door they came through, that's still locked, but the one on the other side of the room.

A door handle rattles and makes them both freeze. Not the door handle that's they're standing next to, the one that's locked, the one across the room. They simultaneously glance up at the big screen and see the man with the gun standing right outside the door, as if his shadow in the pane wasn't enough of an indication. Cal pushes down on the unlocked door and eases it open. The man puts his shoulder into the glass, but it won't break that way. Cal tugs Gillian ahead of him through the door and then there's the sound of another gun shot. Gillian flinches hard, feels Cal's hand at her back, pushing her forward and the rest of him on her heels, brushing against her, urging her silently on.

She rushes down the side of the wall, to the corner where the man is breaking into their lab. It's a matter of delicate timing; they have to cross that open expanse to get to Cal's office. And yet, if they go left, they can get to the exit. Gillian turns back to grab Cal's arm and he's trying to pull her forward, they stumble. "The exit," she hisses at him.

"No," Cal shakes his head and there's another gunshot. Loud. So freaking loud. And it echoes around their work space. Gillian gives up on arguing, gives up on resisting and let's Cal pull her across the space, her bare feet slapping against the cold ground. They reach Cal's office and go in but there are no locks on the doors here. Just precious seconds. They're panting as they both go straight to his desk. Cal picks up his phone with his left hand, shoves it at her, then turns away immediately for his study. With shaking fingers Gillian dials the numbers, not even needing to unlock the device. She follows Cal to the other room, where he's already kneeling in front of his safe, working the code with his left hand to release the gun inside.

"Nine-one-one," the operator picks up quickly. "What is your emergency?"

"I need help," Gillian starts inanely. She shakes the fogginess out of her head. "Police," she tries again. "I need police. There's a man with a gun trying to shoot me and my partner."

"Ma'am, what is the address?'

Gillian tells her automatically and stares down at Cal's back. What's with his jacket? It looks odd. She reaches down and presses her hand against the patch that seems blacker than the rest and as she pulls her fingers back she can tell they're wet, and they're red. Cal's bleeding. He's been shot. Cal gives a little groan and looks back at her. His eyes go wide quickly and Gillian doesn't even get the chance to process his face, or the voice of the operator in her ear, just a sudden blow to the back of her head. She feels herself start to drop, and then she's out cold.