Chapter 5 - THE DEVIL'S BARGAIN
They huddled behind a concrete pillar in the VIP section of the garage, surrounded by Ferraris and Maybachs. Vance was clutching his side; Maya noticed a dark stain spreading across his white dress shirt. He had been grazed by shrapnel or a ricochet during the boiler room escape.
"You're bleeding," she said, tearing a strip from her apron to press against the wound.
"It's superficial," Vance grunted, though his pale face suggested otherwise. "Briggs is smart. He’s jammed the cellular signals in the building. I can't call the FBI field office. The local NYPD circling the building think the marshals are running a standard perimeter. They don't know the men inside are the assassins."
Maya’s mind raced. "The hotel has a hardwired server room on the fourth floor. It bypasses the cell jammers. The executives use it for high-frequency trading and secure conferences. If we can get to a terminal, can you send the files on your drive?"
"Directly to the Director of the FBI," Vance confirmed. "But the fourth floor is executive territory. Briggs will have it crawling with shooters."
May you like
"Not if we take the dumbwaiters," Maya said. "They connect the basement kitchens directly to the executive dining room on the fourth floor. They're built for hauling silver and banquets. They can hold our weight."
Vance smiled grimly. "Cortez, you are the most overqualified housekeeper in the history of New York."
