We stop once we are across the street from the building. I can see the front entrance clearly, and it is perfect. There are no cracks in the glass, no blood on the sidewalk, and no police standing around the entrance protecting long streams of crime scene tape. It is as if no one shot at me or attacked the building. I want to walk through the revolving door, grab a couple of security guards and demand answers.
I step into the street, but Accantha grabs my wrist and pulls me back. It amazes me how strong she is despite her diminutive frame. “If you were hoping to gain attention by coming here, I would say you have achieved your goal.” She points at a couple of men near the building’s entrance. They are staring at us and one of them is talking on the phone.
“You’re sure?” I ask. They are average looking, well dressed, professionals; the sort of men that did not draw attention, but they were the only people on the sidewalk not moving.
“Absolutely,” she says. “The short one spit out his coffee when he saw you.”
“There’s two more over there,” I say as I nod with my head toward a couple of men dressed in baggie jeans and oversized football jerseys. “I bet they all have guns, too.”
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