Money Run by Jack Heath Page B

the carpet.
    Ash thought she knew who he was now. She’d watched him put on gloves before opening Buckland’s door – he must be a thief, the same as her. He’d been headed for Buckland’s office, just like she was, and he’d managed to get an appointment with Buckland this afternoon, just like she had.
    But Ash had never killed anyone, whereas she suspected this man had thrown someone through a window.
    She patted down his clothes. He had no weapons although there was a holster for a gun around his chest. If she restrained him, and kept her distance, he wouldn’t be able to harm her. She grabbed Ford’s (although she now realized that that probably wasn’t his real name) wrists and dragged him across the room. He was heavy; maybe 90 kilograms. She was short of breath by the time she’d dragged him to Buckland’s desk.
    She tried pushing the desk to the side. It wouldn’t move. She tried pulling it. It still would not budge. Excellent – it was either way too heavy to move or attached to the floor somehow. She snatched the handcuffs off the table, and tightened one cuff around the man’s left wrist. She snapped the other around the narrowest part of the leg of the desk, and jiggled it up and down to check that it wouldn’t come off. It held.
    The best thing would be to leave him here until somebody found him. She didn’t want to be the one who called the cops – there would be too many questions she couldn’t answer. Someone else would do the right thing; she had bigger fish to fry.
    She left him on the floor and started checking the room. It had changed a lot since she last studied it. Shards of glass jutted out around the edges of the shattered window. There were seven bullet holes – two in the door, one in each wall, one in the ceiling, and one in the floor. Examining each one, she saw that there was steel behind the surfaces. The room was reinforced with it. She started tapping the walls, like she’d done in the north room on floor 24.
    â€œWho the hell are you?” the man on the floor asked haltingly.
    Ash emitted a shallow gasp. He was awake already. She kept tapping the walls, ignoring his question.
    â€œWhat is this?” he continued. “You work for Buckland? You’re a part of his next trap?”
    Knock knock . This wall was completely solid. She started checking the next one.
    â€œWho are you?” the man said again. “What are you doing?”
    Ash kept tapping. Another wall cleared. She didn’t look at him – she didn’t want him to see her face too clearly.
    â€œDid the government send you? Are you their backup plan?”
    Government? Ash thought. Backup plan? Had the government sent him to steal the two hundred million for them? Buckland might have been right!
    She finished tapping the last wall. No safe. She started across the floor, pounding it with her palm.
    â€œUncuff me,” the man said.
    Thud thud . Thud thud .
    â€œUncuff me.” There was fury in his voice. Like he was used to people doing exactly what he said. Like even if she did it, he might throw her out the window just because she’d kept him waiting.
    The floor was clear, too. She moved over to the fern in the corner and tried to shift it. It came free with a cracking noise, revealing a pipe that had come up through the floor and into the pot plant.
    Weird. But too small to keep $200 million in. She kept looking.
    â€œI’m going to count to three,” the man said. “If I’m not released by the time I reach it, I’m going to kill you. Understand?”
    Ash pushed a couch aside. No sign of a floor safe, nothing under the cushions.
    â€œOne,” the man said quietly.
    Ash turned to the spa. The water level seemed lower than the last time she looked, but it appeared to be a normal spa. She pushed the buttons on the side, and the jets clicked on and off.
    â€œTwo.”
    Ash stood on the rim,