Author's Notes: Thank you, everyone, for reading and all of the alerts you put on this story. And thank you very much, all you fine readers who reviewed. I really appreciate it. ^^ But my lips are sealed on who will live/die.
Chapter 2
Harvey felt like he had been given a sedative. He respected Jessica but damn, she had been going on and on about the Saccarin-Dublin merger for the last ten minutes. It was set to bring the firm nearly fifty million annually, enough to pay all their wages and throw the usual extravagant parties and fundraisers, like a nice bonus to their already lucrative account.
The lawyer was about ready to start doodling ridiculous stick figures; he started the head…and then gunshots. He jumped. His pen ran a long mar across the page and he glanced out in the hallway. One woman ran past in a panic.
"Everyone remain calm and get under the table. Anthony, get the lights," Jessica barked out, even as she drew the curtains, she looked the very picture of calm. The rest of the partners had already dived under the table, but Harvey sat frozen with one thought in his mind. "Mike. Donna," he whispered aloud. Then he knocked his chair over getting up and lunged for the door.
"Harvey!"
He paid her no attention and continued sprinting down the hall; he didn't even hear what she said after his name. All he could think about was finding Donna and Mike and keeping them safe.
…
…
Jessica stood in stunned silence at the head of the room; two of the firm's partners had just run out into the hallway where there was a shooter. She had not anticipated either one of them – hell most lawyers! – not having a more well-developed sense of survival, but they were gone before she could even say their names.
For Harvey, he would be concerned about the safety of Mike, but most especially Donna. The kid was, without a doubt, the most promising associate since Harvey himself had walked into the firm, but he was still unbelievably naïve, but much of that was starting to transform into cautious intelligence and even a little bit more arrogance. She'd had enough dealings with Harvey to know the lawyer was fond of the kid, even if most of the time it was exasperated fondness.
Donna, on the other hand, was more like an extension of Harvey himself. She was half the reason why his career was as incredible as it was and in spite of all of Donna's own fierceness, Harvey was still extremely protective of her and it was known throughout the firm, that disrespecting Donna was disrespecting Harvey. Half the reason she was so scary was due to his protective reach. Their relationship was practically symbiotic: Donna kept his life together and he in turn offered her a very stable job and the protection that allowed her to help power his career.
Harvey would play the hero and swoop in to try and save her.
But Louis? She had no idea what was going through Louis' head.
…
…
Mike stopped a ways down the hall, ducking behind a now vacant cubicle. The sound of bullets spraying had greeted his ears almost immediately after he left the Bullpen and he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes against the terrible images of his fellow associates all riddled, lying on the ground gasping. He was trembling uncontrollably and he forcibly clung to the last rational thoughts in his mind as his only lifeline; he needed a better place to hide.
It was then that Mike's brain caught up with him and he gritted his teeth. Shit! Harvey wasn't in his office! And the office was practically made of glass; he needed a better hiding spot than that!
The bathroom? Mike quickly dismissed that option. There were no exits if the gunman went in there.
Janitorial closet? The firm really didn't have many around on the office floors. The only one he knew of for sure were in the main outer hall and it would be easy to check for hiding lawyers.
The stairwell? It was, without a doubt, his safest bet, but they were next to the elevators. He would have to sneak his way past the gunman. Worst of all, though, he would be leaving Harvey and Donna to fend for themselves. But, he admitted to himself, what could he honestly do? Hopefully they were already hidden and if they were, he'd be risking his life looking for them for no good reason. He also had a feeling Harvey would ream him pretty good if he didn't take the opportunity to escape.
Mike weaved his way down low between cubicles and when he came to a main thoroughfare, he darted across like a scared rabbit. He came upon quite a few associates, secretaries, and another lawyer or two, most of whom he didn't know, crouched down underneath their desks. They paid him little mind, even when he whispered urgently at them.
"You should leave. I think they're shooting up desks," he said to one secretary.
She just shushed him with an expression of fear and panic. "Are you crazy?" She mouthed at him. "They'll never know I'm here."
As much as he disagreed, he didn't think it would be good for either of their sake's if he insisted and just let her be. He did convince a few people, but hardly any of them went the way he was going, apparently assuming he was an inevitable victim. Only one other associate tailed him and together they made their way to the stairwell.
Mike peeked very cautiously around the corner and found the hall empty. He locked his eye on the emergency exit door and tensed; it was not just a leap across the hallway, but in fact several strides down the hall. Just then, Mike heard another round of bullets on the other side of the building and he stiffened. Mike's companion took the opportunity to speed around him and leapt for the door. There was a loud rattling not more than a few feet away from Mikes hiding spot and the other associate fell to the floor, several splotches of red now spreading across his shirt and he lay very still.
Mike almost screamed in utter terror. His mouth was open, but nothing would come out and his fingernails scratched the wall as he dug in. Then he bolted from that side of the building to the other side, desperately trying to put as much distance between himself and the second shooter. He hit the other side of the building in record time, stopping in the other hallway to look on his left to find nobody and then he whipped his head right and froze.
A middle-aged man with graying hair seemed just as stunned to see him, and then he pulled out a pistol and shot.
"No – ," Mike raised his hand and started to say, but pain ripped through him and he stumbled back to fall on the ground. He clapped a hand on the wound and looked down at it, watching with horrified fascination as blood – a lot of blood – started spreading a gruesome stain over his ratty white shirt from the right side of his midsection. He glanced up at the man with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to find something to say.
The man only smiled at him and then he raised the gun so that Mike was staring directly into the barrel. "I hope you burn in hell, suit," he said, his tone as cold as an Antarctic day.
When Mike heard the gun cock, he closed his eyes tight, feeling tears squeeze out to run down his cheeks and he hoped that someone would take care of his gram.
I shall be spending my time until next chapter in a bunker, to escape all of the objects you'd like to hurtle at me.
