“Who?”

“Answer me!”

“It’s an independent system. No access to it from here. Besides, as soon as the alarm triggered, four feet of steel dropped down and sealed the shaft.”

“There has to be a way to open it. Tell me!”

The Hispanic woman’s whole body shook, and he could barely understand her over the sobbing. Not just hers, but the cries of the others as well. He felt like a monster, but he had to know. “Tell me!”

“That’s above my pay grade. I have no idea how to reverse a lockdown. It’s never happened before.”

“One of you has to know.”

He found the manager, who was still passed out. The old British man’s skin was as white as a corpse, and he had clearly lost a lot of blood. Franklin felt for a pulse. It was weak but present. He tried to shake the manager awake. What the hell was the guy’s name?

“Quentin,” Franklin yelled as he shook the old man. “Quentin. Wake up.”

But it was no use; it was a miracle the guy was still breathing in the first place. Who else would know? Was there an assistant manager? Who seemed to know all the ins and outs? Who among them was a leader?

He searched their faces, looking for the person he should have asked in the first place. He spun in a circle, checking all the couches. Then he spun another 360 degrees and shook his head in confusion.

This couldn’t be happening. Where was she? The little princess had disappeared just like the others. Was he losing his mind?

To no one in particular, he whispered, “Where’s the Indian chick?”

Chapter 54

Gabi had merely stood there frozen as the gunman asked about the vault. Shocked that he had yet to notice her absence, she tried to hold her breath and keep still, as if by not disturbing the air around her she could become invisible or will him not to see that he was one hostage short.

When she saw him spin in a circle, she knew, and she inwardly cursed her own stupidity. Of course he would eventually see she was missing. She hadn’t exactly tried to blend with the others and keep attention away from herself. She had basically appointed herself as the de facto leader, representative, and wannabe savior of the group. But she had been arrogant and ignorant. Her brothers always said she didn’t know when to quit.

But she figured now wasn’t the time to start learning how to quit. Now was a time to stand. A time to fight.

But how was she supposed to do that? A pair of scissors was hardly a match for an assault rifle in the hands of someone with obvious military training. She needed to get in close, but the same problem as earlier one again presented itself: she needed a distraction.

She heard more yelling and threats coming from the other room. No one had ratted her out yet, but they would, and soon. It was human nature, self-preservation instinct. One of the most basic primal urges shared by all living creatures. It was only a matter of time before someone spoke up out of fear, and the gunman came for her.