Page 51 of Saving Jennifer
“Too risky,” Noah countered. “We don’t know if they’ve secured the rest of the floor.”
“You have a better idea?”
Noah’s phone vibrated in his pocket—a text. Guess they’d managed to restore communications. He glanced down, surprised to see it was from Gator’s number:
In position. HVAC room. Waiting on your signal. Can flood courtroom with knockout gas through vents. Need 15 seconds warning to mask up innocents.
Noah’s pulse quickened when he saw the message from his uncle. Just for a moment, he’d worried Skinner and his men had done something to him. “Uncle Gator’s alive. And he’s got a plan.”
“What is it?” Jennifer asked, hope lighting her features for the first time since the mercenaries overtook the courtroom.
Noah showed them the text. “But how do we warn the civilians without alerting Skinner and his men?”
Jennifer’s eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. “The fire alarm,” she said. “It’ll cause confusion, but people are trained to cover their faces during a fire—instinct to avoid smoke inhalation.”
“Smart,” Caleb nodded appreciatively. “But how do we trigger it without leaving this room?”
Jennifer reached into her handbag, pulling out a small aerosol can. “Hairspray,” she explained, noticing their confused expressions. “If I spray this directly into that smoke detector for long enough…”
Noah’s eyes met hers, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You’re brilliant.”
Heat crept rushed into her face, and she knew color suffused her cheeks at his compliment. “I have my moments.”
“We need to be ready to move the moment the gas takes effect,” Noah said, his tactical mind already planning their exit. “Caleb, you take Jennifer, get her out of the building. Take her to Uncle Gator. I’ll secure the Amirs—they’re not escaping justice today.”
“No,” Jennifer said firmly, surprising them both. “We stay together. I didn’t come this far to run away at the finish line.”
“Jennifer—” Noah began, but she cut him off.
“I’m staying, Noah. One way or another I must face the Amirs, whether it’s from the witness stand, or seeing them led back to their jail cells. I will not run away again.”
Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Noah had spent his career following orders, making clear-cut decisions in life-or-death situations. But Jennifer Baptiste had a way of complicating everything—his mission, his judgment, but especially his heart.
“Fine,” he relented, “but you stay behind me at all times.”
She nodded, leaning forward to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. Taking a deep breath, she stood on tiptoe to reach the smoke detector, hairspray poised in her hand.
“Wait,” Noah said softly. He pulled her to him, one hand cupping her face. “In case this doesn’t work…”
He kissed her then, a brief but fierce meeting of lips that contained everything he hadn’t allowed himself to say over the past weeks. When he pulled away, Jennifer’s eyes were wide with surprise.
“About time,” Caleb muttered, unable to hide his smile.
Noah texted Gator:Fire alarm = signal. 15 seconds after alarm, deploy gas. We’re coming out fighting.
The response came immediately:Roger that. Don’t breathe deep, nephew.
Noah nodded to Jennifer. “Do it.”
She reached up and depressed the hairspray nozzle, directing a steady stream at the smoke detector. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happened. Then the shrill wail of the fire alarm split the air.
Outside, they heard Skinner cursing. “What the hell is that? Nobody move!”
“Now we wait for Gator and his team,” Noah whispered, drawing Jennifer close to his side, his weapon ready. “And then we take back that courtroom.”
She leaned into him, her body warm against his. “Together,” she said, and it sounded like a promise that extended far beyond this moment.
“Together,” he agreed, and began counting down the seconds to chaos.