“We moved too fast the other night,” Nick said. He uncrossed his arms, shifted again on the balls of his feet. “I take responsibility for that. What’s going on between you and me, and my position at school—”
His words stopped her short. What was he saying? That he wanted to try to make this work? Or that it was a bad idea? For a split second, the what-ifs circling in her mind pivoted. What if we could be together?
Of course, that option had quit being an option the night she hacked in to his laptop and copied his hard drive. Even less of an option now, with her friends staked out in a suite across the street and a purse full of malware.
There was a knock, and the agent from the lobby peered around the door. “Hey, Nick, Lambert’s just out of an interrogation and picked up something. You have a minute?”
Nick turned toward Teddy. “Sorry,” he said. “I won’t be too long.”
Teddy should have been elated. Maybe not a bona fide miracle but close enough: Lambert had given her a window to hack Nick’s computer. And she’d avoided using mental influence to do it. So why did she feel so disappointed? “No problem,” Teddy assured him. “Take your time.”
She practically dove for his computer the second the door closed. She shoved the flash drive into the USB port. Seconds later, her cell phone buzzed. Dara would confirm once Molly had downloaded the virus.
Download complete.
Check.
They were back on track.
She moved toward the window and scanned the street below. She spotted Pyro in a navy hoodie, smoking a cigarette outside a café. Overhead, she saw a seagull swoop in an irregular pattern. She wondered if it was a sign from Jillian.
Her cell phone buzzed again. She opened her purse to check for the message from Dara: Position too low. Buy more time.
Teddy looked out the window toward the Embassy Hotel where Dara and Molly waited. She imagined Molly bent over her laptop as Dara paced and talked and texted. Buy more time. How much more time? Ten minutes? An hour? Teddy began to respond when a movement at the edge of her vision caught her attention: two figures climbing the Embassy Hotel’s fire escape. Molly and Dara were headed to the roof.
This was not a part of the plan. Teddy typed: What are you doing??? She hit send and glanced back out the window only to see Molly swing onto the hotel roof just as a figure in a navy hoodie launched up the fire escape after them.
This was definitely not part of the plan. In the span of two minutes, three things had gone wrong. Her phone buzzed once more: Under control.
Teddy glanced back out the window. Dara and Teddy hadn’t noticed the third figure, which must have been Pyro. But what if it wasn’t Pyro? Because whoever it was certainly didn’t move like Pyro. No. It had to be him. But just in case . . .
Someone on the roof. Teddy stared at her phone. No response. She looked across the street.
Two seconds later, her phone began to buzz. A call from Dara. Could she risk answering it? If Dara was calling, it had to be serious. Had she seen something else?
Before she could pick up, the door opened and Nick reentered the room. “How did you get that past security?”
“Wait a minute. I’m not supposed to have it in here? Sorry, I didn’t know. I mean, I know they’re not allowed at Whitfield, but I figured it was okay. So . . . no cell phones in your office? Is that a rule?”
“Something like that, yeah. The security guard didn’t catch it?”
“He didn’t say anything.” Teddy shrugged. “I guess the FBI isn’t any better than the TSA when it comes to scanning things.”
Nick looked her up and down, eyes narrowed. But if his eyes were on her, they wouldn’t be on her USB drive. She had to stick to the plan as best she could. They’d extensively covered situations like this in Boyd’s class. If every member of a team reacted blindly as events unfolded, missions would dissolve into nothing but chaos. The first text she’d received from Dara had asked for more time: that was the directive.
When Teddy had walked into the lobby, she’d never thought her last play would be to talk about her feelings. To take a leaf from Clint Corbett’s book. But that was exactly what she did. “You were right. I’m scared. I don’t know how to act around you. And it’s not because you’re my teacher.” She struggled to articulate what it was she felt. “I don’t date. I don’t do relationships. I don’t let people in, Nick. But I want to try with you, if—”
A shrill overhead alarm cut her off. The noise and the sudden panic made Teddy think of Whitfield’s midyear exam. But this wasn’t an obstacle course. This was real life.
“Stay right here. Don’t move.” Nick turned and left the room. The sound of loud voices filled the corridor.
Teddy’s gaze returned to the roof—Dara and Molly, perched on the lip of the building, rope gathered around their waists. Why not just go down the fire escape? This so, so wasn’t a part of the plan. Molly hated heights.
What if Dara’s vision . . .
She couldn’t finish that thought.
Teddy jerked the flash drive out of the port and tossed it in her clutch, absolutely certain she was about to be busted. Someone had caught Molly hacking the air-gapped computer and traced the breach back to Nick’s computer.
She watched as her two friends scaled the side of the hotel into a quiet alley two stories down. They were about halfway down by now, Dara making better progress. Teddy watched as Molly stopped her descent.
Teddy felt the snap of the rope as if it had lashed her entire body. One second Molly was hanging, and the next she was falling. In heist movies, this kind of thing happened in slow motion. The hero had time to do something. All
