Private Monaco

Chapter 67

Stamp took a step back.

“I don’t need any help,” he said loudly for the benefit of an unseen audience. “Good luck with whatever you’re involved in.”

He shut the door and Mo-bot looked at Sci.

“What did he say?” he asked.

“That he’s being watched,” she replied.

An elevator chime sounded. Mo-bot looked at Sci nervously.

“Let’s take the stairs just in case,” he said.

They started toward a door marked “Escaliers,” a few feet away and had only taken a few steps when a trio of men in dark urban wear emerged from the elevator lobby.

“Hey!” one of them yelled, producing a pistol from inside his jacket.

“Run!” Mo-bot pushed Sci forward and he burst through the stairwell door as the man started shooting.

Bullets zinged through the air behind Mo-bot as she joined Sci, and the two of them barreled down the stairs as fast as their legs would carry them.

People would sometimes tease Mo-bot for hardly moving from her computer, but this was why. The digital world offered her control. If bad things happened, they generally didn’t involve gunfire and the threat of death.

The gunman was first through the door, but he couldn’t get a clear shot and he and his two accomplices raced down the stairs in pursuit of Sci and Mo-bot, who bounced off the walls, taking the descent at a hazardous pace.

Mo-bot stumbled at the top of the final flight, but Sci caught and steadied her and together they raced toward the exit.

They burst into a corridor that led to the lobby and saw another pair of hostile eyes on them. They belonged to a man Mo-bot had noticed on the way in. Unshaven and wearing casual sportswear, he’d been unremarkable at first but now was clearly identifiable as an enemy.

He made straight for them through the crowded, opulent lobby. Mo-bot and Sci turned and ran the other way.

They raced along a short corridor to a busy bar and restaurant and flashed past a startled hostess standing beside a menu station. Mo-bot glanced behind them to see the trio led by the gunman burst through the stairwell door. The three angry, hostile men joined their accomplice in pursuit of Sci and Mo-bot.

They danced around tables, servers and ornate floral displays, running toward the kitchen doors.

They hurtled through one marked “Entrée” and found themselves in a huge, frantically busy catering kitchen, where staff were sweating their way through the afternoon service and prepping for dinner on the busiest week of the year.

Mo-bot spotted an open door on the other side of the kitchen, which appeared to lead to a service corridor.

“Come on!” she told Sci, and they ran toward the opening, ignoring yells from angry chefs whose fury intensified when the band of pursuers burst into the kitchen.

Mo-bot heard the buzz of alarmed chatter from the dining room as the door swung back and forth, and she had no doubt hotel security and police would already be on their way.

A gunshot rang out and a bullet ricocheted off a pan rack. The cries of anger from the kitchen staff turned to exclamations of fear. The chefs and their assistants hurried to escape the danger and fled into the dining room.

Another shot, this one close by, but Mo-bot and Sci were near the doorway now and she could only focus on the light shining through. They had to make it! They were almost there...

“Move!” Mo-bot shouted, as she and Sci bundled through the open doorway to the safety of the corridor beyond.