Two weeks later…
d2: + 21 months
d3: − 1 year, 3 months
Part VIII: Someone from out of town
"Why this place?" She had wondered about it all along.
"There's the right environment for every occasion," he explained, letting his eyes wander over their surroundings for a moment. "I guess it won't surprise you that I had my sources checking you out."
Nina simply followed his gaze, not reacting to his words. He seemed to like the sound of his own voice a little too much for her taste.
"Quite impressive but then again, you got caught," Amador continued. "Seems you took the fall for someone else's screw-up."
"I'm doing my best not to let that happen again."
It was meant as a warning and the point wasn't lost on him.
"I used to do business with Max," he countered. "One day you'll have to tell me more about your part in that specific matter."
She hesitated, wondering if this was going to be a problem. A part of her was annoyed because this thing just kept coming back and she had a feeling it would all blow up into her face one day. But she had been aware of the risks when she had seen her chance that day and bought her ticket out. And some people being suspicious about it wasn't the worst scenario she had been able to think of.
"I did what I had to do," she shrugged, not feeling in the mood to get into the subject any more.
"I suppose we all do," he answered to her surprise. Maybe she had underestimated him. Maybe he knew exactly what it took to survive in their world. She would find out soon enough as it seemed.
"I'll have to confer with my client before I can say anything definite," he got back to business, "but I think we'll be able to find an agreement and settle this the next time we meet."
"Good."
Again he stopped to look around and she came to halt as well, standing in front of him as he turned around to face her.
"You can say whatever you want about our line of work but it takes us to a lot of interesting places."
She frowned slightly and let her gaze travel around as well. Interesting? They were somewhere in a small town near the Mexican border and except for the fact that the place had become the scenery for their talks - the meeting place for two outlaws, as he was hardly the law-abiding citizen either – she couldn't see anything that would make the place special or remotely interesting. An old couple passed them, walking their dog, a kid in a red jacket riding his bike at the other side of the road, a woman carrying her grocery bags home, fumbling with her keys as she approached the front door. Everything seemed so normal, so real, it was almost absurd. A man sitting at a table in the diner, right by the window, reading his paper, a waitress walking up to him, two men getting in a car outside.
Nina held her breath, seeing one of them hesitate to stare back at her.
"Are you sure the place is clear?" she asked, reflecting on her options.
"Of course it is," Amador confirmed, almost sounding insulted. "Why?"
She felt his eyes on her and let her own move on, meeting his at last.
"Is there anything bothering you?"
"No," she stated calmly, having made her decision.
"Don't worry," he assured her in a somewhat patronizing tone. "I'm aware of your situation."
She had a long close look at him and didn't like what she saw. The hint of a smile on his face. And she couldn't but feel exposed. Jack. He knows about Jack. He seemed to have made his homework and know more than she would like for him to know. Too much to feel comfortable with.
"It's not a problem for me," he continued, "but have you considered taking care of it yourself?"
"You said something about another deal?" she changed the subject, letting her eyes wander over to the diner and the car in front of it once more before she started walking again. He followed along.
"Yes. There is something I've been looking into, to see if it's worthwhile. If it is, I might need another player."
"A partner?" she asked interested, seeing the opportunity of another door opening up. She wasn't sure yet what to make of Amador but if he could introduce her to someone or even bring her into another deal - fine by her. You couldn't have too many contacts.
"I usually have a partner. But I think you might be more qualified for this one."
"Let's hear about it," she encouraged him.
¤¤¤
Nick silently closed the door behind him and stood still for a moment, harkening into what he hoped was an empty room. Otherwise he would be in serious trouble. But he didn't hear anything and in such a way encouraged he moved on, quickly having a look at the rest of the place. There was hardly anything indicating that someone was staying here, except for the bag next to the bed and a briefcase on the small desk by the window.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he sighed. He probably wouldn't have to wait long. She had seen him too.
He sat down in the only chair there was, straight across from the door and by the window. Phil had wondered why he suddenly had been in such a hurry to leave, and his explanation had been everything but convincing. But he could worry about that later.
Was he making a mistake? In that case it might be his last one. She had let him go last time because it hadn't meant a risk. But things were slightly different this time. He sat in the semidarkness of the room, contemplating the consequences of his presence while a part of him was questioning his sanity, wondering if this was just another way of putting himself to the test, to see if he wasn't suicidal after all. Did he for some unhealthy reason need this?
No, I don't, he objected in his mind. I'm just paying off a debt.
Finally, he heard the key turning in the lock, and placing his hands on the armrests of the chair where they were clearly visible, he took a deep breath.
The door was slowly being opened, her left hand against it the first thing to enter his field of vision. Then he saw the rest of her appearing in the doorframe, her other hand under her coat, probably on a gun. She caught sight of him and he saw a tiny hint of surprise on her face. Not at the fact that it was him, of course, but she probably hadn't expected him to wait for her here.
He saw her quickly scanning the hotel room, closing the door while doing so.
"We have to stop meeting like this," she stated mockingly, but he could see that she was still on alert when her eyes quickly met him, identified his empty hands, and focused on the rest of the room again. "People might start talking."
"They say you always meet twice," he replied with a chilly sarcasm.
"Twice?" She sneered, taking a few steps into the room. "I count at least three times." Making sure they really were alone, she threw a quick glance inside the bathroom before she turned her attention back to him. "How did you find me?"
"Wasn't too hard," he explained, sensible enough not to move yet. "There aren't many places someone from out of town could be staying at. So I took a chance."
"Someone from out of town?"
"I grew up around here, arrived four days ago," he clarified quickly. "I had no idea you were gonna be here."
"The man I saw you with?"
"An old friend," he stuck to the truth. "I dropped him off and he thinks I left. No one knows I'm here and as far as I'm concerned neither does anyone that you are."
She didn't seem overly worried but he noticed the way she quickly glanced through the window, peering out as if to check if there was anything unusual going on outside. No wonder, considering that he had just given her to understand that he knew she was breaking her pardon by being here and that he could set her up. And she obviously wasn't convinced yet that he wasn't doing exactly that, not convinced yet that he was telling the truth.
"I wouldn't be here otherwise," he added and was met with a mocking smile.
"You tried to convince me of the exact opposite last time and you were lying then."
"Well, I wasn't very good at it, was I?" he replied, holding her gaze for a moment before looking down. "Let's say I was very confused and desperate back then."
"Yeah," he heard her remark with a mocking intonation but found her expression almost neutral when he looked up again.
She seemed to make a quick evaluation, obviously concluding that she had the situation under control because she suddenly slipped out of her coat and threw it onto the bed. Nick felt himself relax a little.
"You look better," she sighed.
"I didn't come to chitchat," he cut her off.
Another smile. The hint of a smile. He had seen it often enough by now not to be surprised anymore. Still, he couldn't but observe it. The way her features just moved enough to give the idea of a smile, to communicate how superior she felt, how self-assure she was.
"I see." She tilted her head, her eyes laughing at him. "Then why are you?"
"To warn you," he explained. "I felt I owe you that."
¤¤¤
"Owe me?" Nina echoed, leaning back a little, surprised, amused, watching him curiously. "Why?"
"You know why," he said, casting his eyes down to avoid hers, obviously uncomfortable now.
She had to repress a laughter. Things just kept getting weirder. First the sticky sultriness of a Tunisian night, filled with uttered threats and bald attempts at intimidation, empty talk and whispered confessions. And now an awkward silence at the memories, wavering over the greatest irony of all: how often had she ended up with nothing but a pat on the back for all her hard work, nothing but a handshake and a brief smile after putting herself on the line, and now that she had reached a point that was so far away from all that, she was suddenly met with some twisted sort of gratitude. How sad is that?
"You have to leave," Nick finally broke the silence, and waited for a response from her. "I know what you're up to," he continued when she didn't offer one. "You're heading for L.A., aren't you? You're going after him."
Jack. He's talking about Jack.
"Why else would you take the risk of coming here?" he confirmed her thoughts. He had no idea about Amador. But how could he know?
"I understand it now. Why you were so afraid back in Tunisia."
She tilted her head slightly, a smile playing around her mouth. Afraid?
"You thought I was him," Nick continued. "At first. Or that he had sent me."
Maybe she had underestimated him. It seemed to have become a habit of hers lately. One that could become fatal if she didn't get rid off it, and that quickly.
He obviously had some contacts of his own and was well-informed about the stipulations of her pardon as well as the recent history between her and Jack. Both information that wasn't easy to access.
"You really did your homework," she sneered. "Are you back at work yet?"
"I'm not doing that anymore," he objected coldly, and she caught herself peering out through the window again.
That. It sounded rejecting, disgusted almost, and could well be a sign that he was really through with his former work. Not exactly a surprise after everything he had confessed to her in Tunisia. But she remembered all too well how he had kept on talking about 'them' during the interrogation. Nothing but a trick, so why should it be any different now? But something about him seemed…genuine.
Maybe she should keep him here until she had checked with her contact if he was at least telling the truth about this one, if he really hadn't gone back to working for Division or another agency. But she couldn't really believe he was setting her up. Knowing all too well what she was capable of, he was probably smarter than facing her right after snitching on her. On the other hand, she reasoned, if he did and they are on their way now, they might have asked him to buy some time, to keep you here. And considering the guilt trip he had been on after quitting, he might just figure this was a good way to make amends to his country.
Get out of here! a voice urged inside her head, countering something she couldn't quite grasp. A vague feeling that he wouldn't do it. That she could believe him. Trust him.
Trust him? What was wrong with her? Now when was the last time you trusted someone? And where did it get you?
"So you really just happened to see me and thought it would be a good opportunity to get even?"
"Yes."
She shouldn't even be having this conversation with him. What were the odds that they had really just run into each other by accident - again? Why was she taking an absolutely unnecessary risk?
"And why is that?" she asked, buying some time of her own until she had made her decision. Wasting time you might not have.
"I told you."
"Right. Because I didn't kill you?"
She rolled her eyes, but he suddenly snapped.
"No. Not because you didn't kill me. See, Nina, that's the difference between us. As a decent human being, I don't walk around feeling I have to express my gratitude to everyone who didn't kill me."
As a decent human being. Right. You mean unlike me, she thought. And smiled. Smiled it off.
"My bad," she apologized sarcastically. "Why then - Nick?"
"Because for some reason…" he hesitated, squirming, "…for some reason I'm doing better since that night."
She shook her head, letting her eyes wander round the room. This entire situation was just getting more and more bizarre.
"Alright. I don't want to seem ungrateful. I consider myself warned." Crossing her arms, she looked down at him. "If that would be all?"
"You're still going," he stated, almost looking disappointed.
He thinks you're here for Jack, she reminded herself. Or he's stalling. She couldn't stop her inner voice telling her she was acting irrational, against her instincts, that she should know better.
"Why do you care?" she asked amused. "You owe him too?"
"No. But I had this funny thought that maybe you do," he replied, leaning back a little, suddenly seeming awfully comfortable where he was sitting. It almost felt familiar.
"Well, well, look who's back," she smirked, turning around and walking a few steps, making sure he noticed the gun on her back. "So, this warning - is there anything else coming along with it?" Facing him again, she scrutinized his eyes, ready to detect any hint she could get from his reaction. "Let's say you turning me in if I don't leave?"
But to her surprise he simply smiled. Sneered, actually. The same sneer she had seen all those years ago at Division.
"I'm not gonna play that game with you," he stated and elaborated when she raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not gonna give you a reason to let me live. Neither to kill me for that matter. If it's really that simple for you then figure it out by yourself."
"I'm afraid it is that simple."
"If it's easier for you to let yourself believe that then go ahead. Be my guest."
"Hm. One could really think you don't care whether you live or die," she mocked him. And wondered if she should put the gun to his temple again to prove him the opposite.
"Oh, I do care," he quickly assured. "But in your world, I don't really have a say anyway, do I? I mean, I'm sure Teri didn't wanna die when you killed her." Of course he had to bring it up again. "And Jack obviously wanted to live. Or at least survive you."
Suddenly it was his turn to mock her. Why was she even listening? He had come to her, the second time already. To do what? To insult her? Judge her? She really shouldn't be wasting her time with this.
¤¤¤
"But I know you had your reasons," Nick went on. "I understand. I'm sure there's a good and logical explanation to every single time you killed someone. How many by the way? Or have you lost count?"
She had taken her eyes off of him but her smile was still in place.
"You really are better," she remarked. "I'm glad to see you're back in shape."
"And I think you were more impressive when you did your little I'm-not-gonna-say-a-word-performance. Now, your attempts to avoid the issue are just lame."
She raised her brow, surprised, but he just kept staring back at her, his expression somewhere between cold and bored. I might not be as tough as you or not even as good as you. But I'm not a total amateur.
She held his gaze, slightly frowning, obviously not sure what to do with him. Am I confusing you? he thought, starting to feel more complacent. Am I not playing by the rules?
"What's your point?" she asked, casting another glance through the window behind him. She was still insecure. Good. He knew it was stupid and childish but somehow he just couldn't fight the urge to oppose her with something, to try and match her. If he could only get her to loose that cool façade, to stop being so indifferent on the outside, just once. If he could make her say what she really thought instead of keeping it all to herself, staying so damn well in control. He knew it was illogical and the wrong time and place to get into a psychological duel with her, but a part of him simply wanted to break her. And to make things worse - he knew it was his ego.
"Hmm, what's my point?" he repeated sarcastically. "Hell, I don't know. I guess I was just thinking of all those people who would have died if that nuclear bomb had gone off. Which you helped setting up by the way as I heard. Congratulations. Sorry, it didn't work out. But I'm sure there was a good reason for all these people's death as well, wasn't there?"
She wanted to say something. He could see it. Just for a second but it was there. She had been tempted to comment, to object maybe, to explain. He was sure. But then she didn't. And he felt frustration crawling up inside him. So close.
"So, tell me something," she changed the subject again, resuming to walk and crossing the room again, back to where she had been standing before. "If you really just wanted to warn me, why didn't you leave a note or gave me a phone call once you knew where I'm staying? Why did you come and see me?"
Not like I haven't asked myself the same question, he admitted to himself. And hesitated a moment too long for her not to notice.
"Is it possible that there's another reason for your being here?" she insinuated, approaching her earlier position.
"Like what?" he replied, and saw her stopping, turning around and opening her mouth to respond, when the window behind him suddenly exploded, drowning her words in the sound of shattering glass. Then everything just happened way too fast.
He froze, staring at the doorframe across from him, where two bullets had driven themselves deep into the wood, while he noticed in the corner of his eye how she flew around, trying to back away from the window and at the same time pull her gun. But another shot tore through the room before she managed, and he thought she had been hit when she was suddenly on the ground. Lying on her back, she tried to move, crawl away, her right arm finally reemerging with the gun. And pointing it towards the window her eyes flickered around, hastily trying to find a target.
Shaking off his paralysis, Nick jumped to his feet and immediately found the muzzle of her gun aimed at him. Flinching, instinctively raising his hands, as if that could somehow protect him from a bullet, he closed his eyes in anticipation, right before he heard another shot being fired.
¤¤¤
He did set you up! a mocking voice triumphed in her head whilst she tried to get away from the window and struggled for her gun. Told you so.
She felt a sharp sting when the projectile grazed her shoulder, ripping the fabric of her shirt open and some of the skin underneath but not doing any serious damage. Still the impact was strong enough to send her to the ground, and desperately trying to get out of sight, she finally got her gun out and searched for something to train it on. She found it a good second later when Nick's sudden movement made her spin around.
She saw him backing away and couldn't but wonder if she would find comfort in not going down alone. But then another bullet came swishing through the air, and when a new sting ripped through her body she knew she wasn't lucky this time.
A sharp pain shot through her leg, as if all muscles, tendons and nerves were pulled together with such force that she was sure they had to rupture. She heard herself cry out, and maybe it was simply the pain that made her roll over onto her side, but once she had, her instincts kicked back in, urging her to move on and ignore the pain until there was time for it.
She reached the sidewall and propped her head up against the baseboard, hoping she wasn't in the line of fire anymore. Holding the gun in both hands now, she peered hard at the two-storied houses across the street, quickly searching the upper windows to locate the position of the sniper. It's taking too long, it's taking too long, her mind reeled off the same urging mantra as she let her gaze flicker over the façades. But she couldn't discern anything suspicious, and when a few seconds had passed without another shot being fired, she knew she was out of sight. Safe for the moment.
She spun around, once again pointing the gun at Nick who had backed away even more, his hands in the air gesturing surrender, the genuine shock in his face arguing that he hadn't seen this coming any more than she had. And his eyes seeking hers, imploring her, protesting his innocence, she reconsidered and moved on to aim at the door, knowing though she hardly stood a chance if a SWAT team would sweep the room.
"What the hell is going on?" he exclaimed, apparently just finding his voice again. Maybe he really had no idea.
"I thought you could tell me," she tried him nevertheless.
"I have nothing to do with this," he claimed urgently, and she was inclined to believe him. It had been too long since the first shot had been fired.
Feeling the seconds ticking away, she strained her ears for any sounds. The place, the entire town really hadn't exactly been filled with crowds of people, but there should be some activity. Yet, there was nothing. Not even traffic noise from outside, no screams or signs of panic, just a spooky silence. As if every living soul around them had just disappeared. As if somebody warned them and got them out of sight in time, a warning voice rang out in her head, provoking the image of a stealthy evacuation. But if it was a police raid they would have barged in by now. And there were no hushed whispers, no brief commands, no trampling of shoes pelting down the hallway, no sounds of doors bursting open. It seemed more like the work of a single assailant. She shifted back towards the window.
But Jack would do this to her face and not from somewhere across the street, hidden behind a telescopic sight. It was too personal for that.
But who else wanted to see her dead? Who else even knew that she was here? Amador, of course, but what interest could he have in killing her? They were about to close a deal and he had just offered her to work with him on something else. No, it couldn't be him. And if it wasn't Jack either, who else had she pissed off lately? Had she stepped on any toes by dealing with Amador? Was there something her employer had forgotten to tell her?
Important questions but none that would get her anywhere at the moment. Right now, all that mattered was to get herself out of this situation.
"What the hell is happening?" Nick urged agitated, and steadily keeping the gun trained on the row of houses within her field of vision, she gave him a disparaging look.
"I would say someone's trying to kill me."
"Who?"
"I'll let you know as soon as I've figured it out."
She waited another couple of seconds before she moved some more, ignoring the instant pain it caused. And sitting up properly against the wall now, a bit closer to the window, she tried to get a view over the scenery outside without giving the sniper another shot at her.
The street was indeed deserted, but an empty car with the trunk left open, an abandoned bike with its wheel still spinning, and several objects scattered on the asphalt here and there were clear signs of a panicky getaway rather than an orderly evacuation. She noticed a movement behind a shop window, and her grip around the gun tightened in anticipation. But it was just a clerk, curiously popping his head up to peek outside.
She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes for a moment, listening to her own breathing. She had to focus. She had to get out of here. She had to take care of that shooter somehow.
"Are you okay?" Nick's question got through to her and she looked up, irritated for a second. He almost sounded caring. Angry, and agitated, but also caring.
"We have to move," she explained matter-of-factly. "He's not going to wait forever."
¤¤¤
"He?" Nick asked, looking out through the window as well and then back at her.
"Probably a hit man," she explained with a sigh, as if she was either annoyed at the fact itself or that she had to spell it out for him.
"And why is he coming for you?" he tried to understand what he had gotten into, and more importantly, tried to keep her focused on the enemy outside. As long as she's busy with him she won't worry about me, he figured. And as long as I'm not a threat she might not kill me.
"I'll find out soon enough," she uttered through her teeth, taking her eyes off the window for a moment to check on her wound.
"That comforts me," Nick couldn't but comment. "And I just happened to be in the way?" Maybe pissing her off wasn't a smart thing to do in his current position but he was too angry to stick to his own strategy. Angry at her and even more at himself. No one forced me to come here.
But she ignored his remark, struggling to get to her feet and into a standing position. It was obvious she was in pain, her features contorted, blood seeping through her pants, but finally she was up, pressing her back flat against the wall to seek cover, just the same way he was on his side of the room. There was blood coming from her shoulder as well, where the first bullet had hit her, but it seemed relatively harmless compared to her leg.
"There's an exit in the back that should be clear," she stated, and he glanced at the two neat circular holes in the doorframe.
Problem: we just have to get there first.
He had figured out by now that she hadn't spotted the assassin yet or she would have returned fire. But he wondered if she at least had a vague idea where the guy was. He wasn't keen on playing target with the door so obviously in the line of fire, although he agreed that they needed to get out of the room. They were trapped in here.
"So, what's the -" he started but quickly fell silent when she raised a hand to cut him off, calling his attention to the sound of an approaching car engine. And watching how she slid a little closer to the window, careful not to put her weight on the wounded leg and peering hard at something beyond his range of vision, he started to contemplate his options.
So far he was still alive, but it was all hanging by a very thin thread, because even if Nina could take care of the shooter before he could take care of them - that doesn't exactly mean I'm safe, does it? She did seem to believe him now but he wasn't keen on giving her a chance to doubt again. She would have shot me a minute ago if it hadn't been for that guy with his sniper rifle. So from his point of view, he wasn't safer in here than out there with him. Maybe he should just take his chances.
I never should have come here in the first place, he cursed himself, and keeping his eyes on her he made sure to tread carefully as he slowly moved a little closer to the door.
¤¤¤
It was a patrol car taxiing down the street, but given the fact that there were neither flashing lights nor a siren, the guardians of the law couldn't be taking this very serious. The scenario of a shootout in the middle of their small town was probably too surreal.
Trying to block the pain out, Nina watched the cruiser slowing down and then pulling over to stop in front of the hotel, two uniformed officers getting out. Bending their steps towards the entrance right away, none of them had more than a brief look around. They seemed neither aware of a shooter outside the hotel nor the danger they were in. They're dead already.
And it was probably saving her some trouble. She could hardly afford to be associated with this, so the last thing she needed was a police investigation before she had covered up her tracks and disappeared.
A new series of shots tore through the silence, proving her right, and she watched with a deadpan expression as both men went down, probably dead before they hit the ground. Instinctively trying to retrace the trajectory of the bullets, her eyes finally found the assassin.
He had obviously left his earlier position cause now he was standing in a doorway across the street, the rifle still in his hands, his face just emerging from behind the telescopic sight as he gazed at the result of his work. With a satisfied expression, he simply dropped the gun then, and abandoned it for a handier one as he stepped out into the street.
Recognizing the familiar features, Nina clutched her own gun tighter as she set to aim at him, a voice in the back of her head wondering though why he was exposing himself like this. And why he was there at all.
¤¤¤
Hearing the shots being fired outside, Nick could only guess that whoever had just arrived in that car was probably dead by now. Nina's face didn't give anything away, but that hardly came as a surprise.
Feeling the wall against his back, he threw another quick glance at the door, now only one long stride away, and a shrilling voice urged him to just make a run for it and get the hell out of there. But even if their shooter was distracted enough not to put a bullet through his head as soon as he tried, there was no way he could reach the door, open it up, and get out without her noticing. And he wasn't sure what she would do.
He let his eyes return to her. She didn't look like she could run after him and for some reason he didn't think she would put a bullet in his back. So maybe nothing. But maybe was a bit too vague to venture his life for.
Seeing her frown and clenching her teeth right before raising her arm, Nick could only hope she finally had a target. And that she would hit it. But before she managed to crook her finger around the trigger, the door in front of him, suddenly and without a warning, flew open and almost slammed into his face. He froze, staring at the invader and the gun in his hand, and then glanced across the room to Nina.
She had turned her head an idea and was glaring at their unbidden guest, but apart from that she hadn't moved. The gun in her outstretched hand still pointed at something or someone out in the street, and her expression indicated annoyance at the intermission. But there was no sign of fear or panic. And once again Nick couldn't but wonder if she really was as cold as she seemed or if she was just completely in control of her emotions and to what extent she revealed them.
"Hello, Nina," the intruder growled, looking her up and down and, of course, noticing her injury. He grinned. "Now be a good girl and take your finger off that trigger."
She smirked, forcing a thin smile on her face as she gently turned her head back again, probably cursing herself silently but complying nevertheless.
"I should have known he's not alone," she stated, staring outside again.
"Yeah, just like Max should have known better than to trust you," her adversary replied icily, moving another step forward and into the room, glancing at Nick. "Who the hell is he?"
"Does it matter?" Nina countered indifferently after taking a quick glance at him herself.
"Not really," the guy sneered. "You know how this works."
Nina didn't reply, but it was obvious she did know how it worked. And Nick understood too. He was dead anyway, they both were. At least if things went according to their opponents' plans.
"So I suggest you put the gun down, slowly," the guy continued, and Nick found himself pressing the palms of his hands against the wall in his back, surprised as he realized what he was about to do.
"And then we just wait for Jared before -".
He pushed himself off the wall, booting the door with a slam, kicking it as hard as he could. The impact knocked the guy over and Nick didn't waste any time. Being the only one without a gun, he didn't want to stick around to find out who was quicker. The door had bounced back and with two swift steps he had rounded it and was out in the corridor, sprinting as fast as he could as two shots rang out behind him.