I left her office, shaking from the adrenaline surge that had carried me through, dimly aware of the pounding coming from the locked entry door, down the passage. I rushed to the door, flinging it open, and completely unrehearsed, the words just flowed.
“Quick. Brett has had a seizure. I am going to meet the ambulance downstairs. Stay with her. The paramedics won’t be long.” My agitated state was genuine, and her Bikie colleague ran down the passage to her office. And I ran too, knowing that Brett would sent him after me in a matter of seconds.
Speed was everything, and as there was no lift, I took the stairs. Not down, but up. I had climbed two levels when I heard the stairway door slam shut and the clatter as my pursuer gave chase. Fortunately, he went down. Still breathing heavily, I
