Vina gently rubbed Satrio's arm, as if making sure he was all right—a gesture far removed from her usual cold-boss persona. “Let’s get out of here,” she whispered. “I don’t like this much attention.”
Satrio nodded. He escorted Vina out of the crowd, moving quickly and warily. However, at the exit, his sharp eyes caught another anomaly: a small red flash in a building window across the street. A reflection from the lights? Or...
Satrio’s heart pounded, pumping pure adrenaline through his veins. He knew that flash all too well. It was a laser dot, the sniper rifle’s aiming point. Satrio didn’t think. His body had already reacted.
He grabbed Vina around the waist, pulled her tightly against him, and in one incredibly fast motion, rolled them behind a large decorative stone pillar serving as a barrier. The move was rough and sudden, making Vina gasp in shock, her breath catching in her throat.
BANG!
The gunshot shattered the silence of the night and the din of the event’s music. It was dry and deafening, much closer than Satrio had expected.
The stone pillar they were hiding behind trembled. Dust and sharp stone fragments scattered through the air, dirtying Vina’s blouse and striking Satrio’s back. There was a wet, warm splatter against the stone right beside Satrio’s head.
Vina didn’t scream. She simply froze in Satrio’s arms, her eyes wide, reflecting the event’s spotlights.
“Stay here, Miss!” Satrio ordered, his voice hoarse and urgent. While keeping out of sight, his right hand quickly reached behind his belt, pulled out his black tactical folding knife, and gripped it tightly in his palm.
He shifted position, his large body completely shielding Vina’s petite frame. His eyes swept the surroundings, searching for the source of the shot. The window across the street? Too far away.
Satrio felt a strange tug in his left arm. Not stone fragments. Blood. Fresh blood was soaking into Vina’s dark blue silk blouse.
Satrio tore away the lower section of his jacket, ripping the fabric with a brutal motion, then wrapped it tightly around the wound on his left arm.
“Miss! Are you all right?” he asked, his voice cracking as a fear he had never felt before overtook him.
Vina looked up, her face deathly pale. She forced a trembling smile, her eyes—usually cold as ice—now revealing a hidden panic. “I’m fine, but you’re the one who’s hurt.”
“I’m fine,” he whispered. “It’s just a small graze. The bullet missed.” Satrio lied to keep his boss from panicking.
“No, you’re not fine!” Vina hissed. “You’ve been shot!”
“Trust me. I’m fine.”
Satrio felt his blood boiling. He felt like he had failed, yet he was relieved that he was the one who had been injured instead of Vina. He looked up, his eyes fixed sharply on the distance, and saw it again: a faint silhouette in the building window, now moving away. The tactical knife in his hand felt cold and reassuring.
Who are they? What do they want? Satrio growled inwardly.
He had to get Vina somewhere safe and find out who was playing this insane game. This was no longer just about the job. It was about a promise and proving himself.
“We have to get out of here now, Miss!” Satrio shot a glance toward the shooter’s position across the street. The silhouette was already gone, but his instincts screamed that the threat remained.
He half-carried her, crouching as low as possible, toward the nearest emergency exit. Cries, panic, and the frantic scuffing of expensive shoes echoed behind them, but Satrio ignored it all. His only focus was Vina.
A sharp pain made him gasp, but the discipline of an elite bodyguard kept him silent. He slipped the folding knife back into place, knowing full well that a close-range weapon was useless against a sniper.
“The car... VIP parking,” Vina rasped, breathing heavily.
“No. Too exposed,” Satrio replied without looking back. “We’ll take the service route. This building’s security has been compromised.”
They reached a heavy metal door marked “Staff Only.” Satrio kicked it once. The electronic lock protested with a beep, and the door flew open with a hard impact.
They found themselves in a narrow service corridor that smelled of disinfectant and trash. Satrio locked the door from the inside.
“Careful, Miss,” Satrio said. He checked the wound on his left arm again. Blood was still flowing. His medical skills were limited, but he knew he had to get to a secure medical facility immediately—not a public hospital that could easily be infiltrated.
Vina stared at Satrio. She no longer saw the former “Yoyi” she had despised. She saw a steel shield that had just challenged death for her sake.
“Satrio.” Vina whispered, her voice filled with awe and undeniable recognition. “You... you saved me. Twice in five minutes. You’ve surpassed everything I imagined.”
Satrio didn’t smile. His face was dark and cold. That acknowledgment should have satisfied him, but he felt like he had failed to protect himself. If he hadn’t survived, what would have happened to his boss?
“Your praise means nothing, Miss, until we’re safe,” Satrio replied, his tone firm and professional, without a trace of warmth.
She looked into Satrio’s eyes—the eyes she had once underestimated, now burning with a terrifying, efficient, lethal intensity.
Vina fell silent, clutching Satrio’s arm. “This isn’t just about the job, Satrio. It’s personal. I know who they are.”
Suddenly, the lights in the service corridor flickered and went out. Total darkness crept in, thick as a velvet curtain.
“Quick! Hide!” Satrio ordered.
He shoved Vina behind a tall stack of cardboard boxes. Satrio drew a deep breath, activating all his senses in the darkness. His hand reached behind him again, making sure his tactical knife was ready.
A moment later, hurried footsteps echoed from the end of the dark corridor. They weren’t panicked footsteps, but organized, coordinated ones. They were surrounding them.
“We know you’re in there, Miss Vina. Just hand over the file, and we’ll let your new little bodyguard live,” a calm, mechanical voice echoed through the dark corridor.
Satrio pulled out his phone, lowered the screen brightness to its minimum, and looked at it. Vina’s phone, which had fallen during the first gunshot, was still lying in the corridor behind them. Its screen emitted a faint glow.
“Satrio, don’t go over there! It’s bait!” Vina whispered in panic.
Satrio looked at Vina, his eyes glowing coldly in the dimness. He wouldn’t let them get away after that taunt.
“If I fail, at least I’ll make sure you stay alive,” Satrio muttered, more to himself than to her.
He released his grip on the wound, preparing to move.
“If you go, they’ll get both of us!” Vina protested, trying to hold Satrio back.
Satrio gave her one last determined look before doing the most unexpected and dangerous thing of all:
He ran—not toward the darkness filled with enemies ahead of him, but back to the metal door he had locked. His hand quickly felt around for the emergency lock. He had to create chaos, draw their attention, and open a new escape route. His folding knife was now clenched in his hand.
His steady footsteps echoed. Suddenly, bright light pierced the darkness—not from the enemies’ flashlights, but from behind him. Vina had just switched on the manual emergency light on the wall, illuminating the entire corridor.
And in front of Satrio, who had just reached for the emergency door knob, stood two men in black suits, each holding a raised weapon ready to fire.