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right hand, its strap over his shoulder.
    What was he going to do? He couldn't open up on me without hitting his boss.
    Turning Val round to face his BG and protect me, I lifted my 88. I wasn't going to do much against his body armor, even if I could hit a moving target at fifty feet one-handed with a pistol. I had to wait until he was nearer.
    I fired at him from about thirty feet, and kept on firing, aiming below center mass. It was pointless aiming at his head at that range.
    I'd emptied at least half of the twenty-round mag, not knowing whether it was going to drop him or not, when I heard him scream and he went down, his legs buckling. I didn't care where I'd hit him, just that I had.
    Dragging Val, I passed the reception, trying to avoid the video camera, and headed toward the store. I was going it alone now, leaving the contact outside to sort itself out.
    The Money was wrapped in my arms and I wasn't about to give it up. I turned right down a wide hallway, heading for the rear parking lot door. I knew where I needed to go; time in reconnaissance is seldom wasted.
    Passing the conference rooms and business center, I pulled Val along the thick pile carpet, both of us finding it difficult to breathe. Me from fear and physical exertion, him from strangulation.
    It wasn't worth checking behind me. I'd soon know if there was a drama: I'd get shot at.
    People cowered in doorways as they saw us coming. That suited me fine.
    Reaching the end of the hall, I climbed four steps, then turned left and climbed ten more. The inner parking lot door was held open by a fire extinguisher. I hit the crossbar of the second and burst out onto the red asphalt at the rear of the building. The cold took my breath away.
    I could hear the odd shout from one or two locals crazy enough to come out of their apartments to see what all the fuss was about.
    My breath was like a racehorse's on a winter gallop. I could hear Val moan. His nostrils were working overtime.
    There was a stretch of fifty feet or so to the road. All around me steam escaped from pipes and ventilation shafts, and generators hummed like ships' engines. If I got one of the service vehicles, I'd turn left, downhill to the main street, where the drone of traffic was coming from.
    After about thirty feet I could see the parking lot and loading bays. The only vehicle in sight was a small Hilux van. Fuck it, that would have to do.
    With the security lights exposing me to the spectators at their windows in the apartments across the street, I tried the door. It was locked.
    There were no passing vehicles to lift; the construction just up the hill had seen to that. There was no choice but to drag Val up the concrete stairs and onto the loading bay.
    Inside was what looked like a rental car office, with a desk, phone, and paperwork in piles. A woman in her mid-twenties was standing talking hysterically in Finnish on the phone, her left hand waving in the air as if beating off a swarm of wasps. At first she didn't recognize what was in front of her, until I shouted and pointed the 88.
    "The keys! Give me the vehicle keys. Now!"
    She knew what I was saying. She dropped the phone, the other end still talking, and pointed at the desk. I grabbed them and ran back down the stairs to the van, Val clenching his teeth as he took the pain in his neck.
    I still didn't bother checking around me. I knew I was being watched, and worrying about it wasn't going to make it stop. By now the woman in the rental car office would be back on the phone telling the world anyway.
    I ripped off the cardboard that was keeping the windshield ice-free and opened the passenger door using my left hand. My right was on the weapon, and I needed to keep the exposed trigger finger from making any contact. I might need to move my ass, but not at the expense of leaving prints.
    "Get in, get in!"
    He might not speak English, but with my pistol stuck into his neck, Val got the drift.
    Once I'd finished kicking him in, I climbed