Virginia and Jake's eyes widened.
A second passed. They realized that the bullet hadn't passed through the door. The shooter must have shot upwards, through the ceiling, or downwards, through the floor.
"Hey," yelled Jake, booming voice. "Watch it! Or we're all gonna go down."
"We have parachutes out here," a voice yelled. "Come out of there."
"And how would your employers feel about having to jump out of a plane—in this storm, nonetheless?"
No response.
"Shannon," Virginia said. "You need to make a move now. Against Paige. How close is he to you?"
No answer.
"Shannon!"
"Five feet."
"You can cross that. But you're going to have to be fast. He's a good fighter, but he won't expect you to fight dirty. So fight dirty. He's going to take you to the floor. That's where you can win. He's too big. Too much bulk."
Shannon mumbled something.
"Get out of there!" the bodyguard yelled, voice muffled outside the door. "We're counting to three!"
"Shannon. You have to hurt them first. It's you or them." Virginia raised her voice. "You have to fight dirty."