Chapter 4

See Chapter 1 for Disclaimers

31 minutes before the first explosion

With Andréa gone, Miranda waited for Emily to reply to her summons. Once she had arrived, she brought her up to speed. Regardless of what Emily might feel about any threat that Andréa represented, if Miranda believed it, Emily was prepared to follow. "The CIA chatter Andréa was referring to, claimed that an event would occur in Manhattan at five pm, and it is just after 4:00 now. If the threat is aimed at this building, we have under an hour to respond. Should she return with any, and I mean any, corroborating information, I would like to be ready to act immediately."

Both minions lifted notebooks but Miranda waved them away. "I believe my instructions will not be so complex that you need to take notes." She turned to her former art director.

"Nigel, get the list of the fire marshals for each floor and inform them that we are likely to initiate the emergency evacuation procedure, specifically the one avoiding all stairwells. I want them ready to go and familiar with all aspects of the program. I believe that one requires each floor to exit according to a floor schedule using the elevators in sequence?"

Nigel nodded, thanking his God that he had attended each of the fire safety briefings. "Yes, as all of the lifts on the upper section only go down to the twentieth floor, we need to begin from up here first."

Of course, there was no indication on her face that his information was new or surprising. "Fine. To encourage speed and reduce panic, you may imply that I am using my new position and some negligible threat as an excuse to once again torture my employees for my personal enjoyment, except I am now able to expand my power to include the entire building. Once I give the word, I want this complex clear in twenty minutes. Twenty, not twenty-one. It will be made clear that anyone who stays will be fired. Anyone who leaves ahead of his or her floor designation will be fired. Anyone using the stairs will be fired."

Turning to her present Art Director, she said, "Emily, I need to ensure that all recent work for each magazine has been uploaded to the alternate servers. Regardless of confirmation, I want emails to that effect sent out now. Before that, I will need the telephone number best suited to have a bomb squad here in under five minutes. Once you have completed those tasks, we shall relax and enjoy the party for a few moments. That's all."

She turned and strolled towards to her VIP guests, stopping only to pick up a fresh glass of champagne. Both of her employees closed their mouths in an attempt to stop gaping at her.

Emily recovered first. "Nigel, she didn't actually tell us to begin a complete shut down of eight major magazines, and then prepare to evacuate more than five thousand people from a forty-four story office building?"

"And prepare for the bomb squad to arrive because this building could be blown up in an hour?"

"But do find a moment to have a casual drink and possibly shmooze for a bit."

"Before the whole blowing up part, yes. Breathe, Emily."

"Nigel, she can't just walk off after giving orders that insane."

Nigel shrugged. "I'm pretty sure she did but I'm only basing that judgement on the fact that I was standing here when she did."

Emily muttered as she stomped away, "Even Dr. No didn't have minions that have to do the things we do."

Nigel called after her, "Stop thinking about your dream job and get people uploading those magazines."

26 minutes before the first explosion

Miranda had just managed a sip of her champagne when her phone vibrated. Seeing the caller ID she answered quietly. "Where are you and what have you found?"

Andréa's voice was also quiet, but to Miranda's relief she was not whispering. "Washroom. One floor below? Women's. One of the ceiling tiles wasn't even in place properly, and it stinks of coffee. I think it was used to mask the smell of explosives to fool the dogs. Anyway, I took the selfie stick and…"

"Very carefully and quietly?"

"Yes, Miranda. Here's what it saw. There's no one up there now, but you can see the gleam of one of the orange backpacks… and the backpack looks empty."

"So you think that the occupant has moved to wherever the bombs are to be placed."

"I really, really wish that this was homeless person finding an odd spot to camp overnight, but… This is happening, Miranda. It's happening here and now. So, I… I'm going to check the stairwells."

"Dammit, Andréa." Miranda desperately tried to think of something to stop the girl from putting herself in danger, but all her normally agile mind could produce was, "You're dressed as a fucking bee!"

Andy froze, having very rarely heard the fashion queen curse. Or blurt. Or show concern for another human being besides her daughters.

"Miranda, I found the backpack. Just me, no witnesses. Any security officials I bring this to, will already suspect I'm behind this somehow. We may not have time to argue and they won't take measures unless they know what they are facing."

"And if you startle the mad bomber?"

"They'll have a set schedule for the explosions, my guy said. If they said five o'clock, he'll just shoot me and wait the, uhhh, forty-five minutes until five. I'm in danger, not you. Not any of you."

"I have no idea why that is not at all comforting. You will not risk your life."

"Miranda, I really don't want to do this either. But if I can get a face, a picture of the equipment, they might trace who is involved and find out if there are other attacks planned because of my photo. Figure out what explosives or devices they have. We don't know if this is one attack or several, other buildings could be targeted, thousands elsewhere could be in danger as well. Or they could be rank amateurs and no danger at all. It's important. You have to see that. And no one else can or will do it."

There was a moment of huffing at the other end and Andy could picture the pursing of the lips. "I'm not happy."

Andy chuckled. "You think I am? If you want professionals involved, you could send somebody to check out this washroom. They might find some clues there."

"Perhaps you could wait until they examine…"

"It's 4:15, we have less than an hour. I'm already at the stairwell doorway anyway. And remember, I have little bee's feet, I'll be extremely careful."

"No attempting to interview him, do you hear me?"

"I promise."

There was a strange pause, before an almost startling question was asked. "You'll be alright?"

"I promise."

The connection severed. Miranda smiled across the floor at an acquaintance, as she delicately pressed her speed dial. Her expression did not change, but her voice was terse. "Nigel, get the evacuation started. Notify the 20th and 45th floors and start down from there." Nigel muttered an obscenity while she continued. "Inform Emily that the bomb squad should have been here ten minutes ago and that I will need to speak to the head of the Vice-President's security team when I get back in five minutes. Then bring me a change of clothing for Andréa and myself. I'm not meeting the press in a party gown."

That brought a very small chuckle. "Of course not, Miranda. What are you going to be doing?"

"Apparently, I have to go and make sure that foolish girl doesn't get herself killed."

22 minutes before the first explosion

Andy stared at her phone, checking it was set on automatic focus, and attached it to the selfie stick. Her hands were trembling and so she rested the stick on the ground for a moment. Okay, so heroes get scared. That's what they all say. It's just that heroes keep going despite the fear. That's what they say. But I don't think Audie Murphy was wetting his panties every time he advanced. Of course, he wasn't unarmed and wearing a bee costume either. So just open the door, okay? Miranda, everyone in this building and maybe others are depending on you.

She pushed the door bar downwards as slowly as she'd ever pressed any object before. It swung inward without any sound and disengaged its catch silently. As she eased it open, she paused and listened for any sounds. Hearing nothing, she continued to push it further. Her padded feet were silent as she slid through the doorway. There was a startling ripping, scratching sound, which had her heart jump. She immediately identified it as duct tape being unravelled. Her heart's pounding seemed too loud, and she was having trouble breathing. You have to breathe, Andy, just quietly. You still have to breathe.

The familiar sound of the unwrapping continued. It was very close, just around the downward spiral of the staircase. Her hands still trembling, she willed them to stay still so that the photo would not be blurry. She stretched out her hand, reaching the stick around the corner and began taking pictures of whatever and whoever was around the corner and below her.

Once done, she began to carefully pull back the camera… when it caught on the railing, almost falling out of the stick. To stop it falling she had to shift and the sound of the phone scraping against the railing echoed throughout the stairwell.

She froze, knowing the camera was still in sight if the person below looked up. She began to reel it in slowly as the sound of the taping stopped. There was a shifting of cloth; a step and Andy closed her eyes. Continued to slowly pull backwards towards the doorway.

The door in the floor above them opened with a crashing sound and the silence in its echoes indicated that both Andy and the person below were startled. A well known and imperious voice called out, "Stop right there."

Apparently, Miranda's voice was as effective on terrorists as ex-assistants, as they both obeyed. It continued, "You know very well there is no smoking on the stairwell and I believe you still have much to do. Unless you are tired of your job?" Andy broke out of her position and began to trot up the stairs where a visibly upset Miranda stood. "To be taking time to fill your lungs with garbage, while in my employ, is inexcusable."

Once she was close enough, she spoke loudly, "Yes, Miranda. "

"And I do not want to see you slipping off this way again, do you understand?"

She almost pulled Andy through the doorway, slamming the door with emphasis. In an unspoken assent, both women put distance between themselves and the exit. Once that was accomplished, they focused on the phone still attached to the selfie stick. Andy looked at Miranda once before detaching it and hitting Gallery. There, clearly in each of the frames, was a young lad, barely out of his teens, a short barrelled machine gun lying on the ground beside him, wrapping tape around an object just out of the camera's eye. No matter how she expanded the frame, the object could not be seen clearly, yet it seemed to pulse with danger.

Miranda nodded. "Well, that's it, then?"

Andy nodded as well and they began to run back to the ballroom. She scanned the rest of the photos on the way. In one shot the boy was almost facing the camera. He was young. All too young. Miranda noticed Andréa's expression and that she was slowing down, so she pulled Andy hard by the shoulder, saying, "You cannot save that boy. You cannot ever save everyone."

A white-faced Emily was standing by the elevator, listening to her phone as another group was loaded on to the elevators. She immediately stood to attention as Miranda approached, but froze as she recognised the giant Bee at her side. Before a word could leave her lips, Miranda glided towards her, nothing in her voice indicating anything was untoward.

"Emily, why am I not looking at the head of the Vice-President's coterie, or are you now working with the terrorists? And call the police commissioner, attaching this photo. Tell the bomb squad we will also need an anti terrorist squad here as of thirty minutes ago. They should start in the basement, and their dogs should be looking for coffee scent as well as explosives." Emily did not respond, her face paler than Andy could remember.

"Emily, if I feel that you are panicking, you will no longer work in the Western Hemisphere, do you understand?" This seemed to stiffen her spine and she managed, "Yes, Miranda."

The head of security spotted Miranda and moved to join them. With his ear piece, and dark glasses on inside, Andy felt he was more appropriate for the Matrix films, but he took them off as she showed him a blow-up of the photo she had already sent to her laptop. His expression did not change, but the furrows around his eyes seemed to tighten.

"When was this taken? And how? Where?"

The reporter answered each question in order. "Two minutes ago, by a selfie stick, on the north facing stairwell below this level."

The detailed and calm response brought his eyes from the tablet to look the woman in the eye. "You would be the former employee that I have on my list, Andrea Sachs? And you took this picture? Do you know if he saw you? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? Not for you, but for everyone in here?"

Andy had just a few too many cups of coffee and even more cups of bullshit from Homeland to back down from this. "You wouldn't be listening to me if I hadn't gotten this picture."

"Young lady, this," he pointed to the wires dangling from the hand of the boy, "is a deadman's switch. You know what that is?"

Andy already knew, not that she had wanted to think about it. "If the person holding it lets go, it detonates?"

"Exactly. And this," he pointed to the weapon on the ground, "This is an MP5K. The manufacturers, Heckler & Koch, call it the ultimate close-quarters weapon. It's light, easily concealed, deadly accurate even in confined spaces, and fires up to thirty rounds in a few seconds. And you claimed there are several more of these men, on different floors?"

Assuming her heart couldn't actually jump out of her chest, Andy maintained the cool façade. "That's what the evidence is saying."

"How the hell did they get in here?"

"They slept overnight in the toilet's ceiling crawl spaces. I found an open ceiling tile in the washrooms, and coffee grounds underneath."

Nigel arrived at this moment and contributed, "We're halfway through evacuations, this floor had the most people and is almost done, the bomb and anti terrorist units should be here already."

"Good." The agent began to speak into his microphone and strode away from them.

Andy and Nigel jumped into pursuit. "So what are you going to do?" Andy asked. The rest of the agents accompanying the Vice President were now grasping the former senator by the arms and hurrying him towards the elevators. The lead agent moved to join them.

"I've just notified Homeland to raise the alert status to Red, and we are getting the VP out of this building."

"But what are you going to do?" Andy asked, pointing towards the stairwell.

He slid into the elevator with the rest of his men. "My job. Protecting the Vice President." The elevator doors closed on them.

Andy stared at Nigel. "That could be my least favourite phrase in the England language. My Job."

They rejoined Miranda who was glaring at Emily, whose colour had not improved. "Notify the bomb squad that the man in our stairwell was armed with a…" Miranda looked to Andy.

"MPK5." She blushed at Miranda's slight nod.

"An MPK5 machine gun and the explosives had a deadman's switch."

Emily listened for a moment before relaying, "The bomb squad says, thanks for the information, but they are already in the parking garages and found one heavily armed… hostile? But they thank you for the timely warning." Emily paused to look at Miranda. "I think he's being sarcastic."