The footsteps grew louder. Too much purpose in them, too certain of their destination.
“Get your shoes and jacket on. NOW!” he told her.
She grabbed the motorcycle boots and pulled them on, zipping them up quickly. Chase went over and threw open the sliding door to the balcony. The night air was cool, but he wasn’t since adrenaline rushed in his veins.
“What’s going on?” Sophie asked as she hurried to his side.
“We’re leaving,” he ground out as he pushed her onto the balcony and shut the door.
Behind him, everything was quiet—until the sound of splintering wood cracked into the night.
Sophie gasped, her head turning toward the room they’d just left.
“No time,” he told her. “Climb over the edge and down onto the roof next door.”
“Are you crazy? It’s a six-foot drop, at least. And if I miss—”
“You won’t miss. It’s wide and flat—go, Sophie, for fuck’s sake!”
She did as he said. The roof next door was a drop, but there was no space between the buildings. All she had to do was land and wait for him.
He heard her hit and then he went over the edge and joined her. Above them, he could hear the balcony door slide open. Russian voices came to them from the balcony. Someone peered over the edge, spotting them just as Chase dragged Sophie behind a concrete casement on the roof.
She trembled as the Russians shouted, her eyes wide, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she worked to control her breathing. She was terrified, and that made him angry. Angry with himself and with these fucking Russians.
Goddammit, the flash drive must have had a tracking program enabled when he plugged it in. But he hadn’t transmitted over an open connection. He’d had a secure satellite link.
Which meant the transmitter was programmed to seek out any open Wi-Fi source and transmit that way. It would explain why it had taken hours for the Russians to find them. They’d been narrowing down the signal, trying to pinpoint the exact location it had come from. They hadn’t wanted to make a mistake, so they’d bided their time.
Fuck.
“Stay low,” he said as he dragged her toward the rooftop door that hopefully led down into the building.
There was a thunk and a vibration beneath his feet, and he knew the Russians had jumped onto the roof.
Chase grabbed the door handle and twisted. It opened, and he rushed Sophie through, closing it behind him and turning the lock.
“It won’t hold them for long, but we don’t need long,” he told her as he started down the stairs, Sophie on his heels.
“How did they find us?” she panted behind him.
“The flash drive. It must have a locater program on it.”
“Shit.”
An understatement.
They thudded down the stairs, flight after flight, and Chase listened for the sounds of pursuit. The door was metal, so the Russians wouldn’t shoot it, but they could break it in given enough leverage. Which they would do, but he hoped it would take them a little bit of time.
It was possible there were more than the three of them he’d gotten a glimpse of, which meant there could be men outside this building waiting for them. But he had to take the chance, because what other choice did he have?
He could barricade them into an apartment and shoot anyone who tried to take them, but that would be dangerous for the residents—and it would bring the gendarme. If Androv had even half the influence in Paris that he seemed to have in New York, then what were the chances Chase and Sophie would last the night in police custody?
He didn’t know, and he wasn’t taking that chance. When they reached the bottom landing, Chase stopped and held Sophie back with an arm.
“What now?” she whispered.
The door upstairs burst open with a loud whomp sounding against the wall, and Sophie jumped, looking up with round eyes.
He grasped her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “If they’re out there, they expect two people to walk out of this building. We have to split up.” He shoved the key fob at her. “Go and get the car. Calmly, as if you have every right to be here.”
She clasped the key fob in her hand. “And then what?”
“Drive away.”
“What? No, I’m not leaving you!”
He gripped her harder. “This time you have to. If you wait, if you swing back around for me, they’ll know.”
“And if they catch me anyway?”
He kissed her quickly, frantically, while the sound of boots echoed down the stairwell, bringing the Russians closer. “Don’t think like that. Just go. You’re an actress, Sophie—so fucking act. Don’t let them suspect it’s you. It’s dark and they don’t know what they’re looking for—other than a man and a woman. They’ll watch you, but if you don’t look suspicious, they won’t bother you.”