For Heaven's Eyes Only by Simon R. Green Page B

appear this building has put up some really heavy-duty shields, now that the alarms have gone off, and the Glass can’t access the world outside. We’re not going to be able to leave that way, after all.”
    “It’s been that kind of a day,” Molly said wistfully.
    “Terrific,” said Isabella. “You’re a bloody jinx, you know that, Drood?”
    And then we all looked round sharply. From somewhere not nearly far enough off came the sound of a great many raised and furious voices, heading our way at speed. The Satanists had finally got out of the boardroom. I looked quickly round the corridor. No turnings, no windows anywhere, and the corridor ended some twenty feet on in a blank wall. The other way was blocked by several tons of dead demon dog, frustrating us even in death. The sound of the oncoming mob was a lot closer. I looked at Molly and Isabella.
    “I am open to suggestions.”
    “I can’t teleport us out,” said Molly. “Not past these shields. Iz?”
    “Took everything I had getting in here,” said Isabella. “I was expecting to stroll out unrecognised.”
    “How high up are we?” I said. “How far is it to the lobby and the main exit?”
    “We’re on the twenty-second floor,” said Isabella. “One elevator at our end of the hall, and a stairway.”
    “Really don’t like the idea of being trapped in an elevator,” I said. “And the stairway is bound to be guarded.” I looked thoughtfully at the end wall. It didn’t look that tough. “I could punch through that wall, grab the pair of you and jump. . . . I’d survive the fall, and if you stuck close enough to the armour, it should protect you as well.”
    “Have you actually tried this before?” said Isabella.
    “Not as such, no.”
    “Then I am not trusting my life to a should ,” Isabella said firmly.
    “We’ll take the elevator,” I said.
    “Witches and sisters first,” said Molly.
    We headed quickly for the end of the corridor. The shouts and howls were dangerously close behind us, but I didn’t look back. It wouldn’t help, and I didn’t want to be distracted. And then bullet holes exploded in the walls to either side of us, and I immediately armoured up again and fell back a little, so I could stand between the witches and the bullets. I did try to do it subtly, for their pride’s sake. I was pretty sure Molly wouldn’t allow herself to be taken out by some mere bullet, but I wasn’t taking any chances. I don’t, where Molly’s concerned, no matter how mad she gets afterwards. Some things are nonnegotiable. It’s a guy thing.
    We got to the elevator, and Isabella hit the call button with her knuckle. (Old burglar’s trick: using the knuckle instead of a finger, so you don’t leave fingerprints.) I turned and looked back. Beyond the body of the demon dog the corridor was full of angry people with flushed red faces and snarling mouths. A dozen or so had guns, though luckily the bulk of the dead dog was protecting us from a straightforward attack. They had to shoot round the massive bulk, and they weren’t very good at it. But some had already reached the body and were trying to force their way past it, snapping off shots as they did. I stood facing them, trying to be as wide as possible. Half a dozen men and one woman opened fire on me from almost point-blank range, blasting away indiscriminately. I stood firm and my armour absorbed every bullet that hit me, soaking up the impact and sucking them in. The Satanists kept firing, but I could tell they were impressed. There’s something very off-putting and downright intimidating about an enemy who stands there and lets you shoot him. Especially when he’s staring back at you with a featureless metal mask that doesn’t even have any eyeholes.
    But the Satanists kept firing, and I couldn’t move or even back away to get to the elevator without leaving Molly and Isabella vulnerable to a lucky shot. Bloody bullets can go anywhere in a firefight. Especially in a