Jessica

Jessica waited a few minutes before moving, then tested the bonds. She had seen the nylon zip-ties before they put them on her. One on each wrist, connected by a third. She rolled over face down and tried to slide her hands inside the the back pockets of her jeans.

Not bad. Maybe I can do this.

The pockets had been modified, each with a narrow pouch along one side. The right pocket held the straight razor she always carried. Alex had ground the handle down slightly to make it even thinner, easier to conceal. Still usable though, carefull, and Harry had taught her how. It would be a one-shot deal though, taking the adversary by surprise and striking a fatal or disabling blow immediately.

But first needed her hands free. The center zip-tie was fairly loose. Probably not from concern for her comfort, as they almost certainly intended to kill her. The ones on her wrists were tight enough. But it allowed her to get to the pocket.

She got the handle of the razor between thumb and forefinger and pulled it free. Turning onto her side she opened it, tried to orient it, listening for sounds. She had heard Brewster's footsteps for a while as he left, even with the door closed.

Sharp as this thing is, got to be careful. Even if I get free, if they see blood...

Finally she felt resistance to the blade that suggested it was in contact with the nylon tie. She was glad they hadn't had any disposable handcuffs and had to improvise.

Careful, don't rush, slip, drop the razor.

She felt the blade bite, pulled it across while pressing hard.

That's got to be it. Just a bit more.

The tie parted. She carefully closed the razor and sat up. Listening for any sounds that might indicate Brewster's return, she put the razor back into the wider side of her pocket.

Alright. I got one shot. Sit up with my hands behind me. He won't be expecting it, but...

"The carotid artery bifurcates well below the jawline," Harry had said, touching the neck the mannequin. "Slash across, hard. You don't get second chances at this, and you don't want to need one."

He'll probably tell me to get up. If I don't he'll come closer, but may be suspicious. Or too close.

Brewster was a good three or four inches taller than Jessica, wide-shouldered. Should she go for the left or right? The left side was closer to her right hand, she'd have to turn to attack from the left. Giving him more time to counter.

Of course, if he's not alone all bets are off.

Footsteps outside.

That's him.

And voices.

Damn! Both of them.

"Get her out here," someone said. It wasn't Brewster, must be the other guy. She took the razor out and opened it.

Brewster entered, the other party remained outside and out of sight.

"Get up," Brewster said. He moved towards her. He had what looked like a Glock G22 in a holster on his right side. She'd need it if she managed to take care of him.

She stood, stumbling slightly, not entirely acting as keeping her hands behind her wasn't as easy now that they were free. No matter, as he took another step, reaching as if to steady her.

Nice. Being a gentleman.

It also put him in the optimum position. She slashed the razor across his neck hard, slipped past him before he could grab her. His hands went to his neck, blood already pouring over them. He'd be dead in minutes. And so would she if his partner came in before she got to the gun.

Brewster was already on his knees, and she pushed him over and unsnapped the holster and drew the gun.

Hope he carried it ready, but...

She racked the slide anyway, and it ejected a cartridge.
Good, now c'mon.
"What're you doin' in there?"

She didn't recognize the voice. Probably the one they sent to do the deed. Brewster didn't seem the type that would have the nerve.

She went down on one knee, the Glock pointed at the door in a modified Weaver hold.

And hope there's just one.

Brewster had barely moved after she had pushed him over. She knew her blade had gone deep, almost snagging on something. The artery was probably severed.

She had never seen the man who came through the door, and fired before he realized what he was seeing. He stopped, tried to raise a hand to his chest, and fell to his knees. She fired two more rounds to be safe, and he fell over and lay still.

The silence that followed was complete. She listened, heard nothing. She went to the door and cautiously looked out.

The corridor was empty. She stepped out and looked. Two other doors past where she was standing were closed. She held the Glock ready at her side and turned to look the other way. Silently, her moccasins making no sound, she moved into the room where Brewster had brought her in.

The door was closed, and had no glass. There was a large window on either side, and she crossed the room and looked out.

Brewster's Jeep was there, along with a large four-by-four GMC truck that had not been there when they arrived.

Looks like I've got the place to myself for the moment. But how long? I need my phone.