He's impressed with her ability to pretend. After all this time, he supposes he shouldn't be; he's seen her smile and chat her way through any number of seemingly impossible situations. Still, he tries to smile too, even looking over at her a few times.
The ride on the lift is silent, and when the floor indicator lets out a 'ding!' on the sixth floor, he steps out, still keeping a hold on Rachel's hand (hers feels warm, which means his must be freezing).
"Oh, damn," he says, looking at her in apparent exasperation. "Wrong floor. We need seven. Let's take the stairs."
Not letting go of her hand, he takes her to the stairs, pushing open the door.
Footsteps.
"Go!" he says, pushing the keycard to the door into her hand. "738. Run. I'm right behind you." He glances anxiously down the stairs, his other hand moving to the gun tucked into the back of his trousers.
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The ride on the lift is silent, and when the floor indicator lets out a 'ding!' on the sixth floor, he steps out, still keeping a hold on Rachel's hand (hers feels warm, which means his must be freezing).
"Oh, damn," he says, looking at her in apparent exasperation. "Wrong floor. We need seven. Let's take the stairs."
Not letting go of her hand, he takes her to the stairs, pushing open the door.
Footsteps.
"Go!" he says, pushing the keycard to the door into her hand. "738. Run. I'm right behind you." He glances anxiously down the stairs, his other hand moving to the gun tucked into the back of his trousers.