Hide and Seek and Menu Requests

I inhaled a deep breath, diligently fighting the urge to scream obscenities at the absolute toad of a man before me. Carl had apparently made it his work life mission to disrupt my workflow every, damn, day. Since starting this job, he’d somehow transitioned from an easy-going co-worker to my real-life nemesis.

Initially, he’d been super communicative, submitting requests to me in such a timely manner I’d almost forgotten what it was like working in a toxic environment. Almost.

The switch was subtle. He started submitting requests closer to the deadline, slowly shrinking my work window while dialing up timeline expectations. I missed the uptick in microaggressions during meetings. It wasn’t until another coworker actively called him out during our weekly check-in that I realized something in our dynamic had changed.

Standing in the doorway of his office, I listened as he droned on about the upcoming requests that were already overdue. I did my best to swallow my annoyance and maintain a professional demeanor.

“What about next week’s menu? Those items go live next Thursday, and you haven’t emailed the request over yet,” I shifted from one foot to another. My quick question had turned into a fifteen-minute chat about a slew of random subjects ranging from the proper item build to grounding ourselves and getting twenty minutes of sunshine a day.

“Oh, really?” He moved his mouse, sifting through his computer, “I could have sworn I’d sent that over already.”

“Nope, not yet,” I smiled and waited for him to confirm what I’d said.

“That’s so weird. I thought you’d already started on that menu. You’re always so ahead of the class. I sometimes wonder if you even need those requests from me,” he clicked on screen, “Hmm, looks like you’re right again. I have not sent that over to you.”

I shook my head quietly, not bothering to say anything regarding his comments.

“Let me just finalize a few details and I’ll get that sent right over,” he leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head.

I opened my mouth to respond as the sound of a gunshot reverberated throughout the office.

Carl sat up straight in his chair.

Without hesitating, I hit the override for the automatic lights and slipped inside his office, closing the door quietly.

“Get behind your desk, under there,” I motioned for Carl to move. He did without a word. I yanked the cables from his laptop and closed it, handing it to him. His dual monitors went dark. Tucking in his office chair, I dropped beneath his wooden desk, doing my best to stay out of sight.

The hall wall of his office was glass and useless to protect us, but I’d hoped that by killing the lights and hiding the laptop maybe whoever was responsible for that gunshot would mistake his dark office for empty.

“Am I imagining things or are we really in an active shooter situation right now?” Carl whispered so quietly I struggled to hear all his words.

Shaking my head, I held up a finger to my mouth. Through a gap in his desk, I noticed movement outside his office. Pressing my eye up to the space, I caught sight of an armed man just as he stepped out of view. Another followed closely behind him. He was wearing jeans and a black shirt with a camel vest and basic face covering. They were heading towards the kitchen and secondary exit door for our office.

“Get your hands off me,” Michelle’s muffled voice grumbled from the office next door as the sounds of scuffling filled the air. Bodies slammed into the wall that adjoined Carl’s and Michelle’s offices several times. The sound of a fist meeting a jaw crunched into the air. Another gunshot.

“Ahh,” Michelle cried out. Someone spit.

“Don’t fucking move,” the unknown man’s voice echoed into the hallway from Michelle’s office.

“Take her to the large conference room with the others. I’ll finish checking the offices back here,” the second armed man stepped briefly into view before disappearing down the hall towards the kitchen.

A moment later Michelle stepped into view holding her bloody left arm. The first armed gun man was close behind with the tip of his gun pressed into her back. They rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight.

I turned to Carl. His eyes were wide, but he didn’t look entirely crippled by fear.

“That other guy is going to be back to search your office any second. I’ll step out and give myself up. You stay hidden,” I whispered, “When we’re out of sight, slip out of the office and through the exit in the kitchen. Go get help. I’ll do what I can to buy us time. Don’t waste it.” I stared at the man that had been wasting my time for weeks.

“I should be the one to give myself up,” his quiet voice cracked.

“I’m a woman. I’m less threatening looking. We don’t have time to argue. Just get help,” I stared through the gap for a second before turning back towards Carl, “Besides these guys don’t look like professionals. If Michelle can land a punch, there’s hope of coming out of this alive. Now trade spots with me.” Carl moved to the forward most part of the desk while I slid backwards to make my exit easier and hopefully keep him concealed.

Not ten seconds later the gunman slipped into view and pushed open the door to Carl’s office. Showtime.

I held my hands up as I stood from under the desk and moved forward, “Please don’t shoot.” I half sobbed as the words fell out of my mouth. Years of once-in-a-lifetime events and active shooter drills in school had prepared me for this very moment. Theater class was the cherry on top.

“Please, please, I don’t want to die,” my voice trembled. True.

“Shut up and keep your hands where I can see them,” the masked gunman backed out of the office his gun trained on me, “Step out here, into the hallway.” I did as he said and stepped out into the hall.

“Move it,” he nudged me with the barrel of the gun, “Head towards the room with the big table.”

“You mean the conference room?” I whimpered and turned my face away from him as I tried to hide the questionable look that was bound to be etched onto my face.

“I said keep your mouth shut,” he poked me with the rifle and I stumbled forward, keeping a slow stride.

I sniffled for good measure as I worked to prepare a few tears for my entrance into the conference room. It seemed like distracting these guys for a while might be possible so I wanted to be ready to buy as much time as I could for Carl to get help.

A muffled crunching sound filled the air behind me. I turned back in time to see Carl guiding the deceased gunman to the ground quietly.

“What the fuck, Carl?” I whispered, surprised.

“Ex-marine. Help me get him into my office,” he started dragging the guy through the open door. I grabbed his legs and we slipped silently inside. Carl removed the dead guy’s weapons, and we did our best to tuck him under the desk and out of sight. He handed me the small handgun he pulled from the guy’s waistband and checked the rifle over.

“You know how to use that?”

“I grew up in Texas,” I stared at him, “Yes.”

“Good. Only use it if you need to. The goal is to neutralize as many as we can without alerting others to our presence for as long as we can. I’ve no idea if our office is the only one that’s been infiltrated,” he tucked a knife into the back of his waistband.

“Shouldn’t we go get help?”

“The building has a silent alarm that has already been triggered,” he pointed to an emergency light at the top of the hall. It was flashing, “Cops are likely already on the way.” Sirens filled the air in the distance as if cued by God himself.

“That’s not sus at all. So, what, we’re just a rag tag team of vigilantes taking out bad guys now?”

“I mean, why not,” he shrugged his shoulders.

“Carl, we were just arguing about late menu requests!” I yelled in a whisper, “This is crazy!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Carl wiggled his shoulders and leaned forward, stretching, “My PTSD has been on a tear lately and I’ve taken that out on you, and you didn’t deserve that. I’m really sorry. If we survive this, I’ll make sure to get them to you on time moving forward.”

“You’re PTSD?” I stared, astounded.

“Yeap. I feel loads better now though,” he stood up, almost giddy.

“What?” Muffled heavy footsteps sounded from down the hall. I tucked the small handgun into the back of my waistband and turned towards the sound.

“Delta Echo, fucking whatever. Brad! Where are you?” a low voice sounded. I glanced back and Carl was nowhere to be seen. I stepped out of the office as the gunman came around the corner.

“Hold it right there!” I held my hands up and backed away from the guy towards the kitchen, “I said, freeze.”

“You said hold it actually, but not your point,” I back up another few steps. He followed.

“Stopping moving! Where’s Brad?” These guys were definitely not professional or smart.

“Brad doesn’t work here,” I took another couple of steps back.

“I said don’t move!” the guy held his gun up, pointing it directly at me.

“Please don’t shoot!” I sobbed and fell back onto the ground, sliding towards the kitchen. My high school theater teacher would be proud. Carl slipped silently into the hallway behind the distracted gunman.

“I will fucking shoot you! Now stand up!” the gunman stopped walking, his gun still trained on me.

“My bad,” I stood up, “I’m kind of in my feels right now. Never been in a hostage situation.”

“Wha…” the gunman’s neck snapped before the "T" fell from his lips.

Carl dropped him silently to the ground and slid his hands under his shoulders. I grabbed his legs and we pulled him into the kitchen away from the hallway and tucked him into my favorite corner window niche where I’d eaten lunch solo many times.

“Shouldn’t we have tried to question him?” I watched Carl remove the second dead gunman’s weapons and vest and pull off his mask.

“You’ve watched too many movies,” he slipped the vest on and shoved the spare guns into a wide draw in the kitchen island, “We’re in a mid-size office. He would have just screamed and gotten the attention of his team.”

“Valid. So, what’s our next move then?” I did my best to breathe my reddening cheeks away.

“We need to get an accurate idea of how many assailants are left before we head to the main conference room,” Carl slid the extra clip he’d pulled from the spare weapon into his back pocket and tucked the mask into his waistband,” I suggest we loop around the C suites, clear those then head to the hall of the meeting room.” He started back down the hallway. I followed behind closely.

“I agree with checking the C suites, but how do we handle glass hallway wall of the main conference room? It’s only partially frosted glass. They’ll see us coming a mile away,” I checked the IT cubicles as we rounded the corner.

Carl held up a finger to his mouth as he stopped at the corner of the C suite hall. He briefly peeked around it before waving his hand and continuing forward. We kept low and moved quietly through the hall. Every office on our floor had a glass wall that lined the hallway providing a sense of openness to the floor. It also left little room for protection in the event of the very scenario we found ourselves in currently. As we passed each open office I noticed they were all empty. Everyone must have been rounded up by now.

“Looks like these have been cleared. I’m guessing the remaining assailants are in the conference room with everyone. That’s good,” he stepped into the C level break room, one of the only rooms with no glass walls, and motioned for me to follow.

Carl began buckling the vest and pulled the mask from his waistband.

“What are you doing?”

“You asked how we get to the conference room. This is how. I’m Brad now,” he slipped the mask over his head, “And you’re my hostage.”

“So, we’re going to just waltz on in?”

“Yeah, basically. Brad and I are a similar build and happened to be dressed similarly. I’m betting these idiots won’t notice right away,” he grins wide, way too excited for our very real and dangerous situation, “If there’s one bad guy, I’ll shoot before he realizes I’m not Brad. Two, I can probably still handle that.”

“And if there’s more than two?”

“You have a gun, don’t you?”

“I’ve never killed anyone,” I looked down at my shoes, “I stick to wild hogs. I don’t even like killing deer.”

“I get it. Taking a life is a burden and one that I hope you won’t have to carry,” he very briefly touched my chin, and I pulled my head up to meet his eyes, “But I’ve heard you and Xia talking during lunch. I know full well you’re prepared to protect yourself. If I recall you mentioned being willing to bite a guy’s ear off and even hold curiosities of ripping out a trachea if needed. You’re a woman and a smart one. You’ll do whatever is necessary to persist.”

I thought back to all the survival scenarios I’d ran in my head throughout my lifetime. School shooting, zombie apocalypse, attacked on a train, domestic violence. I’d mentally prepared to do whatever was necessary to stay alive a long time ago.

“You’re not wrong, I suppose,” I exhaled, “Alright, let me get all sobby again.”

“That’s my coworker. Let’s go,” he opened the door and checked the hall, “It’s clear. Ladies first.”

I stepped out of the room in a pitiful state. Snot was already pouring from my nose as I worked to quiet my panicked sobs. I was seriously considering joining the local theater group if I lived through this.

Carl walked close behind with his gun trained on my back. Strange how just this morning I couldn’t stand the man and now I found myself trusting him with a fully loaded weapon pressed into me. Funny how life changes so quickly.

The only door to the large conference room was at the very end of the hall on the left. To the right, was a short hallway that led to the main entrance for our office. Beyond the cubicles, I could see the top of a man’s head standing in front of the entrance.

We entered the strip of hallway that bordered the meeting room. A four-foot-thick stripe of frosted glass ran along the middle of the glass wall. It concealed anyone sitting at the table, making it difficult to see who was in the room. I sobbed and tumbled to the ground.

Everyone from our office was sitting on the floor by the wall of windows on the far side of the long table. I saw two pairs of legs that stood together, guarding the group. Three men. We could do this.

Standing back up, I faced Carl and held up two fingers. He nudged me back forward. The man by the main entrance met us at the end of the hall.

“It’s about time, Echo, we’ve been wondering where you and Hotel been,” the man stretched his neck and I turned sideways doing my best to block Carl and buy us time, “Where is Delta Hotel?”

Carl motioned with his head towards the offices we just came from, “Breakroom.” His voice was dead on for Brad. ‘We’ might be joining theater together.

“Alright, stick her in there with the others and watch the door,” the man headed down the hallway, “I’ll grab dumbass.”

Carl nudged me and we stepped inside the conference room.

One of the men grabbed my upper arm, “Bout time,” he roughly led me over to the group. A gunshot rang out. A body dropped. The man holding me twisted his torso. A second gunshot. He dropped before he fully turned.

“Everyone ok?” Carl leaned the gun against his shoulder. The group stared, confused.

“Carl, lookout!” Gunshots echoed all around and Carl dropped to the ground. The third gunman stood in the doorway.

“What the fuck!” his gun was trained on a bleeding Carl. The man leaned down. I pulled my gun. He pulled the mask from Carl’s head. I took aim.

He stood back up, “Where’s B…” I fired my gun. The “rad” stuck in his throat as the bullet hit him in the side of his head. He dropped.

“Nice shot,” Carl groaned from the floor.

“Holy shit, Carl, where are you hit?” I ran to him, dropping to the ground. Blood was pouring from his shoulder and hip.

“Pretty sure he shot me in the ass,” Carl laughed painfully.

“And the arm, hold still,” I took my jacket off and pressed it against the wound, “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.” Carl sat up, shoving me to the side as he swung his weapon around. He fired several rounds. I turned in time to see a fourth assailant drop.

“Son of bop, I’m over this,” I looked at my group of co-workers huddled in the corner, finding the face of our CEO, Mark, “In case this needs saying, I’ll be on PTO the next two weeks.”

“I’ll make sure the upcoming menu requests are ready by the time you return,” Carl grumbled before passing out.