Eleven: Bad Guys

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The deserted delivery yard at the back of the hotel was drenched in sunlight. It bounced off the windows of the surrounding buildings, hurting Charlotte's eyes as she moved cautiously out of the shadows. Lifting her hand to shield her gaze, she blinked furiously, trying to accustom herself to her surroundings and the undaunted sunshine.

She had trapped the security guard in charge of the yard behind a meagre projection, leaving him completely unaware of her presence. He sat in his boot, unmoving and dazed expression on his face, unwittingly duped in the easiest of ways.

The sunlit delivery yard was open to the hotel, though Charlotte could see that there were more obstacles still in her way. Across the concreted space, ten-foot high gates loomed, discouraging any unauthorised visitors from entering the hotel grounds and now, trying to deter Charlotte from her attempts to escape.

She sighed squinting at the gleaming, silver gates, trying to figure out a means of getting past them. It wasn't that she wanted to escape for good, it was just a break she needed. It was a break from all the uncertainty and the mistrust. She had thought at least James would have seen the futility of hiding stuff from her anymore. It had hardly worked for him before. It only ever seemed to make their life harder. And yet he still seemed to have his secrets.

Charlotte scuffed her shoe along the concreted ground, glancing back into the colossal garage beneath the hotel. Two large, open roller doors revealed the delivery area hidden beneath the building, now empty of all signs of life or recent deliveries, apart from the distracted security guard. The room was a gigantic concrete box, lit with buzzing fluorescent lights and with a huge service elevator at the rear. Clumsy concrete steps led up to the door through which she had entered the loading bay, where she now expected Ian to appear with Annakiya or Carrie. They seemed to be taking a terribly long time to return, longer than Ian would be proud of.

Charlotte turned away from the door and gazed up at the azure sky, closing her eyes to the rays of the sun and relishing in the heat creeping back into the world, creeping into her bones. Spring had descended on Washington without a look back to winter. The unrelenting cold they had braved at the compound seemed to melt away from Charlotte, reminding her that warmth did still exist in the world. She took a few more steps into the yard, away from the shade of the garage and allowed a smile to form on her lips.

A noise behind her disturbed her musings and she turned, hoping to find Ian and one of the others finally ready to escape for a short while, but it wasn't her friends that stood there.

"Miss Owens, where are you going?"

Charlotte met the stern expression of Alastair Ramsey, the corners of his lips forever twitching. He didn't seem at all too surprised to have found her standing on the edge of leaving the hotel. And it was with an unsettling unease that she realised she had had no sense of his approach. For all she knew he could have been following her, watching her the entire time.

"How do you do that?" she hissed, anger washing over her. She wished beyond anything that he would just leave her alone.

"Do what?" he sighed, stepping towards her, his polished shoes clicking on the concrete floor of the loading bay.

"Sneak up on me," she breathed, without thinking, her irritation getting the better of her. "I can sense everybody else, but not you – not anymore".

"Miss Owens, honestly, what are you talking about? And I will ask again, where were you planning on going?"

"I was going for a walk," she exhaled, folding her arms across her chest, daring him to tell her she wasn't.

He smiled gently at her, almost apologetically. "I'm afraid, Miss Owens, I can't allow you to do that," he sighed. "I know it seems unfair, but it's for your own good. You don't seem to realise how your fame has rocketed, or how dangerous it is for you out there, unprotected. If they recognised you..."

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