Chapter 46
Parker put on the red dress as she'd been told to do. It was long, and beautiful, and terribly impractical.
She pinned her hair into a bun, looking into the mirror as she did.
As she looked at herself, a strange feeling visited her. It felt like a memory or a yearning, she couldn't tell. But she felt Alec's hands around her waist, kissing her cheek as he stood behind her.
The pores rose over her entire body. She sensed it immediately.
Something was wrong.
Parker reached for the pen devise and kicked off the red satin heels that were part of her assigned outfit, and pushed her feet back into her boots. She grabbed the handle of the door and yanked it with such force that she bruised the palm of her hand when the stubborn lock didn't give.
She tried again and then realized that the door was locked from the outside. She was trapped.
Something was definitely wrong.
She looked down at the pen device in her hand and remembered Alec's words. She remembered the strangeness of his tone.
He's going to do something.
Fresh urgency spurred her to move. She looked up to the ceiling and saw no way out. Then she looked to the balcony. She grabbed the covers off of the bed and ran out tying both of the edges as she went.
She tied one edge of the sheet to the wrought iron balcony railing and hung the other end off of the side. Then she gathered up her dress and expertly made her way down.
From her earlier room sweep she knew which rooms were vacant and which weren't. She had a viable option for an unnoticed entry just two floors below but the biting cold and her wardrobe made the trip doubly difficult. She spared only a fleeting thought to anyone seeing or chasing her, her only thought was to get to Alec as quickly as she could.
She swung onto the balcony, her arms aching with cold and the exertion of her climb. She was cursing her dress as she gathered it up and looked through the glass door into the darkened room. There was no one inside. She opened the locked balcony door with ease and crossed the room quickly to the front door. She had a moment's apprehension as she touched the knob; she was unarmed, unprepared, and uninformed. She had no idea what was going on beyond that door.
But she realized that it didn't matter. She had to get to Alec.
She opened the door and looked left and right before stepping out into the dim hallway.
A foreign feeling of panic covered her like a thin mist. Her hands felt unsteady and her ears felt hot as the sound of the blood rushing in her veins filled her head.
Alec, where are you?
She walked down the hallway, her focus locked on the stairwell exit.
She had to get to him.
He could be anywhere.
Dammit, Alec. Don't do anything stupid…please.
Parker was saying her silent prayer when an arm reached out from the corner just before the stairwell.
The arm shot out like an arrow across Parker's chest and grabbed for her shoulder but her reflexes sprang awake and she dodged the arm and grabbed it instead. Her assailant was male and very strong but she used his considerable strength against him and swung his arm up as she prepared to jab at the center of his face. He was too quick though and stepped back to avoid her strike. He grabbed her wrist and held it.
"PARKER," the gravelly voice barked and Parker stopped her struggle.
The face was vaguely familiar. She pulled her arms free from his grasp.
"Who are you?" she challenged.
He looked at her incredulously, "Parker, it's me, Eliot."
Her memory clicked at the name.
'Frequent collaborators…Eliot Spencer.' His deadly serious photo-face staring back at her from the computer screen in Alec's underground bunker.
"Eliot," she breathed, a mix of relief and slowly-forming understanding. "What are…" she began.
"Where's Hardison," he interrupted.
Hardison…Alec…
The urgency flared in her again.
"I don't know but I have to find him. He's going to do something," she replied and made to turn away from her new, old acquaintance.
He held her arm again to stop her. And again she yanked it away.
"Would you stop trying to grab me," she asked calmly although the wide stare said otherwise.
"Look," Eliot snapped before softening his tone, "there are guards all over this place, and the way you're sneaking I take it you don't want them to see you."
Parker nodded in concession and began looking around for an alternative way to get to the upper floors, where she believed Hardison had been sequestered.
"Follow me," Eliot offered and stooped down to open a small hatch door that blended so seamlessly with the wall, Parker didn't notice it before.
She hesitated for a minute, wondering if she should trust the less-than-sociable stranger.
"C'MON PARKER," he barked as he crawled into the small space, and she startled.
It felt oddly familiar; his unyieldingly harsh tones, his furrowed eyes, his grizzled demeanor. She was certain she knew him. And so she followed him into the dark and narrow tunnel which he illuminated with a flashlight held between his teeth.
They didn't have to go too far before he pushed open another small hatch and jumped down into a very small room not too much wider than a coat closet.
Parker looked around the room to find that it was indeed a closet and saw a small black rucksack sitting beneath a hole in the wall with an eerie blue light spilling in. She went to the light and pressed one eye to the wall to see the source. Three walls of security monitors that captured every corner of the Bilmark hotel on video were the emitters of the light.
"That's how I knew where you were," Eliot offered.
Parker turned to him, "Where did you come from and what are you doing here?"
Eliot thought back to his shortened plane ride. How he'd 'communicated' his change of heart to the pilot and his two escorts. How he'd contacted a friend of his who worked in the area that was his original target and alerted him that an assassination attempt was being planned and that there may be more than one hired gun. How he'd gotten information in return about a political announcement that was about to take place at the Bilmark, and its connection to Hastings. How he 'requested' the pilot land just outside of Nevada. How he snuck into the city and into the hotel and chose the closet next to the security room because Hardison taught him it was the least conspicuous way to have eyes and ears on what was going on. How he saw Parker on the monitor and felt a surge of joy and dread that she was there because while he was thrilled beyond belief that she was there, her presence confirmed his thoughts about Sonia's motives.
"It's a long story," he finally answered, "Where was the last place you saw Hardison? We have to get out of here."
"He's at the meeting room," she told him then stopped. "What do you know? Have you spoken to him? Did he tell you what he's planning?"
Eliot looked at her closely, "I haven't seen Hardison in three years."
Parker froze.
"…or you," he added.
"We were close," she asked softly, hesitantly, genuinely curious.
Eliot smiled sadly then shook his head, "you drove me nuts."
Parker smiled back and knew the answer; they were, "sorry."
Eliot looked at her for a moment and it was enough. It gave him peace. He and Parker had an understanding that was different from anything he had with the others. Their edges were tougher, perhaps because their cores were so soft beneath it all.
"Where was the meeting room," he asked, ending their reacquainting moment.
"The room is on the fifth floor," Parker answered before she stooped back at the peephole.
"He's not on the fifth floor," Eliot answered matter-of-factly.
Parker swung around to look at him, "That was the designated room," she answered, her eyes pinched in confusion.
"Well someone changed the plan," he stated flatly, "The fifth floor is the security nerve center. There are no occupied rooms. No one would plan to meet on that floor. It's inconvenient, too much of a risk."
Parker knew he was right. Sonia wouldn't meet where there would be potential disturbances. "So where is he?" she asked out loud as she pressed her eye to the hole again.
She didn't have to search for very long.
"Alec…" she gasped.
"Where?" Eliot snapped.
"Dining hall," she answered, then turned to look at Eliot with wide eyes, "he has a gun."