Chapter Thirty-One
It was too late to argue, but haul ass? The piece of shrapnel lodged in his thigh would like to have a word with her.
Fuck it.
Riley’s initial scan of the room revealed a large receptionist desk in front of an eight-by-twenty-foot metal partition that effectively hid the rest of the office. ‘Marcus Tanner, CEO, CoDen Aviation’ was embossed on the metal. The thing looked like it was reused aviation metal which meant a titanium alloy. Perpendicular to the partition, a door with a smaller sign read, ‘Jean Gross, Executive Assistant’. They couldn’t have asked for better cover, unless an ambush waited behind the desk.
Kelly signed she’d go right, he’d wait, then take the left. She ran crouched, and swiftly cleared the area before she indicated for Riley to move. By the time he rounded to the edge of the desk, he’d cataloged a marble bar, a glass door to the room at the far end, and floor-to-ceiling windows in the south. He pressed his back to the partition and double checked his ammo. His hands still shook and he nearly dropped the magazine. Nausea fermented in his gut, his sweat turned cold, and his labored breathing had a dangerous wheeze that he refused to think about.
From the back of the room came the familiar sound of a radio transmitting. “Rivers, message. Over.”
“Go. Over,” Rivers replied. Whether that was his name or call sign, Riley couldn’t tell.
“Blue north. Acknowledge. Over.”
“Acknowledged. Out.”
No use keeping quiet now. “FBI!” Kelly announced. “Drop your weapons, get on your knees, put your hands behind your back.”
Unsurprisingly, none of that happened.
Riley waved to get Kelly’s attention. When she looked at him, he pointed the vee of his fingers toward the room.
She gave him the thumps up.
“Get the kid up to Carson and Eavers,” the voice nearest the desk said. “Leave the rest of them for now.”
Riley leaned around the edge of the partition, intent on a quick scan before moving back into cover. Instead, he froze, his chest heaving from a held cry of warning as Cai swiped at the man coming toward him. A slash of red sprayed out in a fine mist, then gushed from the man’s neck. Cai grabbed a fistful of Rachel’s top and yanked her to the ground just as a bullet pinged an inch from Riley’s eye.
Kelly returned fire. “Get the fuck back,” she screamed.
Trance broken, Riley jerked back into cover.
“Fuck.” Kelly reeled, tossing him an angry glare before her eyes returned to the stairwell.
Once again, Riley had no time to process his emotions. He kept his voice low and surprisingly steady while he relayed the situation. “Hostile at your six, thirty feet in southwest corner, behind a heavy desk. One hostile badly injured or dying at your ten, fifteen feet, with three hostages—Cai, Rachel, and Julian. Oh, and Thomas Cole. Rachel is severely injured, possibly unconscious, with flexicuffs binding her hands behind her. Julian has an injured hand.”
She risked a glance at the room. “How the fuck is that guy still alive?”
“Cai missed the jugular?”
“All right. Right. Right.” Her wheels were apparently spinning as she nodded to herself. Then she looked him over. “Okay. The boys look like they can run. Lange’s small. Can you drag her back here?”
“No way.”
“Me then. On my say, we try to take out the guy near the hostages. When he’s down, you cover while I pull Lange behind the bar. Prioritize cover to the south, but don’t forget the stairwell. Go.”
Riley peered out. The injured perp tried to hold his neck and lift his gun. He stumbled a step backward. Riley took aim, had the guy in his sights, then Cai stood in his way. “Cai!” he yelled. “Get down!”
Cai looked over, blood spattered across his face and chest like warpaint. His grey eyes held no recognition. He turned his attention back to his victim.
Cai, Jesus fucking goddamn Christ! Riley checked the stairs, and then attempted a second shot. The man in the south fired, nicking the wall near his arm. Riley pulled back. Fuck! He made a third attempt, but Cai had latched onto the injured man’s hand to pry the gun out of it while the guy weaved around making a choking sound. “Can’t take him down,” he told Kelly.
“I got no shot, either. Keep covering. I’ll call in our location.” She pulled her radio off her belt. “Agents in need of assistance. Seventh floor,” Kelly whispered into the radio. “Three hostiles. One on the—”
“Stairs,” Riley yelled as the door to the stairwell cracked open across from him. A grenade rolled out and landed in front of the desk a foot from Riley. He futilely threw his arms over his head to block the explosion.
“Fucking hell!” Kelly screamed.
Splinters and metal fragments rained on and around him, but the desk took the brunt, leaving a basketball-sized hole at the bottom near the floor.
Before the door could open again, Riley gathered his strength and launched himself toward the stairwell. He landed shoulder-first into the office door, and then he took Kelly’s advice and hauled ass. Bullets followed him, ripping through the drywall at his back. They ceased as Kelly returned fire. He steeled his jaw and limp-ran the last few feet. In the hallway, he pressed up against the wall opposite the stairwell and tried to catch his breath.
Riley searched for some way to barricade the door and immediately noticed the metal arm that automatically kept it closed. He tucked his gun in his holster and unbuckled his belt. Every wound on his body screamed at once and sweat streamed down his face as he threaded the belt through the metal arm. He buckled it and then wound it tight around the other side. Using his body weight, he pulled the makeshift ‘knot’ tight. Then he smashed the emergency glass and took out the ax, angling it in the door handle and against the door frame. Given enough time and force, someone could get in, but they would make a lot of noise doing it.
With the door secured, Riley focused on the south end of the space. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and shook the pain off as he steadied his aim at the far end of the room. “Go,” he mouthed to Kelly.
She crouched and moved to the armchair where Thomas Cole was curled in a fetal position in front of the seat. Julian hid on the floor with Rachel tucked into his chest. Kelly reached out to pat his foot and he ripped it away to wrap around Rachel’s hip. Cai nearly stepped on them both several times while he continued to struggle for the gun. Finally, the perp fell to his knees, his face pale, but his grip didn’t appear to slacken.
The door jiggled, drawing Riley’s attention to it. Someone rammed into it several times, but the barrier held.
“Rocha, entry blocked. Over.”
“Copy.” The response came from the man at the south end. “Secure exit. Out.”
Rocha? Xander Rocha?
“Wilco. Out.” Rivers steps echoed once again, this time going up.
Confident they didn’t need to worry about the door for a bit, Riley gave Kelly a nod. “Go,” he mouthed again.
Kelly holstered her gun, pulled a knife from her belt, and then low crawled behind Cole's armchair. She reached Rachel first and sliced off her flexicuffs. Then she removed a stray piece of duct tape off Julian’s neck and bound his hand before exchanging the knife for her gun.
“Got me?” she yelled.
“I got you,” Riley answered, both for her benefit and Xander’s.
Kelly gripped Rachel under the arms and then quickly dragged her around the bar. Instead of following, Julian, either out of uncertainty or fear, tried to scoot under the couch.
Cai finally freed the gun, pointed it at his victim’s skull and calmly fired. The man fell forward, landing face-to-face with Thomas Cole.
“Oh Christ!” Cole stood straight up, flailing backward and taking the armchair with him as he toppled over. His surprised cry caught Cai’s attention. “No. No!” Cole raised his arms as if that would ward off a bullet. Cai lifted the gun and fired. The empty chamber clicked.
“What the fuck,” Kelly mouthed. Then yelled, “Put the gun down, Nikolaj!” as she raised her own weapon at him.
Riley broke out of his trance. “Cai, stop. Stop now!”
Cai looked at the barrel, pulled the magazine out, and sighed. He said something in Albanian, had an argument with the air, then leaned down to search the dead man’s clothes. Cole scrambled away on his knees.
Rocha took advantage of Riley’s shock. Bullets shot across the room at him. He pulled back into the hallway. Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.
Julian screamed, “Cai! Get down, you bloody fucking mental buggering bugger!”
Again, Riley made the careless mistake of checking on Cai. What felt like a hot poker pierced through his neck. He slid down the wall, pulling his jacket collar off his shoulder in order to check the injury. A bullet had gone through the muscle above his clavicle. Painful but not debilitating. He had to get out of this hallway and closer to Kelly.
“It’s okay, Julian.” Cai’s voice, calm as warm butter. Then he laughed. “I can’t die.”
Riley had to look out again in order to cover Kelly. If she could get Julian, Cai, and Cole behind the bar, it was a straight run to the hallway and then the stairwell.
Cai crouched down, said something quietly that made Julian’s eyes widen, then walked calmly toward Rocha. Riley had limited bullets to cover him, and Cai was in the direct line of fire to his target.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Kelly duck-walked around to the edge of the bar while she spoke into a Bluetooth headset she’d attached to her ear. “Kitts? Yes, Marks…Radio’s toast. Communication unsecure.” She caught Riley’s eye and undoubtedly noticed the blood. A tremor shook her voice. “10-999. Seventh floor. Three hostiles armed with multiple grenades, guns, and C-4. One hostile injured or dead. One in southwest corner. One in northeast stairwell. Four hostages.” Because of the room’s acoustics, Kelly had used police code to let Kitts know one of their own was injured. But she also wanted everyone in the room to know backup was coming. “Five minutes. Got it.” She flashed her fingers at Riley indicating it was more like ten minutes.
Walter Cole shouted from behind panels next to the office door. “In here! Help!” A popping sound like a suppressed pistol, then the panel along the wall snapped open a foot from Kelly’s arm, blocking her from Riley’s view. She kicked at it and the door swung back, leaving a small dark gap.
Riley called out, “Senator Cole?” No response. “You, behind the door, put your weapons down, come out, get on your knees with your hands in the air.” Shit. If it was Cole and he was incapacitated?
“I got South!” Kelly said.
Riley trained his gun on the crack in the door. Drops of sweat traveled from his eyebrow to his chin. A river of sweat followed. He wanted to rip off his FBI windbreaker, but it made him easy to identify should backup arrive. His dress shirt felt like he’d been swimming. The smell of gunpowder burned his nostrils. Continuous pain caused spasms in his leg muscles. The thought of moving again made him physically ill. Stop whining and move. “You have five seconds to comply. One. Two. Thr—”
Cai waved his gun in the air while continuing the loud argument with his invisible opponent. He racked the slide and offered the butt to whoever he’d imagined up.
Kelly grimaced, her gun wavering from her target. “Cai, get down! Goddammit!”
The panel opened wider. Light hit a black leather shoe in the opening along with the cuff of one camouflaged pant leg.
Kelly kicked the door again. The panel closed.
Several feet from the desk, Cai knelt and rummaged through a black duffel bag. At least he wasn’t in the way anymore.
Kelly pointed to the panel and then to Riley and signed, ‘clear’. She couldn’t do it because she’d have to walk around the opened door, leaving her back exposed to Rocha. Riley would be slow, but he had the clearest view to the inside of the bathroom if the panel opened again. He indicated he’d move to the partition first. She gave a thumbs up and then duck-walked behind the bar for better cover. “Go!” She stood up and aimed south.
Riley summoned his last dregs of strength to run straight at the partition just as Rocha stood up with an M16 assault rifle. Kelly got off one shot before she had to duck. A spray of bullets pinged off the marble and drilled the back wall above her. Rocha twisted and then sent dozens of rounds directly toward Riley. Before he finished his third step, what felt like a baseball bat slammed against his chest and another pierced his side. He gasped and crumpled to the ground out in the open at the edge of the partition. His arm weighed more than his whole body. At first, he thought the vest took both hits, but a second later fire burned through his ribs and blood trickled onto his stomach. “I’m hit,” he whispered.
Rocha dropped into cover. The sound of a magazine reloading came from behind the desk.
“Riles?” Kelly called out.
Julian slithered across the floor to Riley. “Cai, please,” he begged, helping to keep pressure on the wound but ineffective in his prone position. “Look at Riley. He’s hurt. He’s hurt.” Julian searched for something in the room. “Agent Marks? Tommy? Help please.”
Cole stayed hidden behind the armchair and didn’t answer.
Kelly crawled to the end of the bar, took one look at Riley and swore. Her eyes darted to the space between them, and Riley knew she was trying to figure out how to get to him. He shook his head and then jerked his chin toward south. She took his lead and aimed that way. When Rocha showed his face, her shot bounced off the desk and ricocheted up and through his cheek. He disappeared again.
Cai appeared to finally notice Riley. He blinked and in that same instance his expression went from placid to stone. “Xaaanndeer,” he sang, racing south and hopping onto the desk with no regard for his own safety.
Christ. He thinks he’s invincible.
“Move, Nikolaj!” Kelly lowered her gun again.
“Get…behind…bar,” Riley told Julian, praying he didn’t have to repeat himself. He managed to use his foot to scoot a few inches. Julian slithered past him, grabbed Riley’s jacket collar, and started to drag him, inches at a time, toward the partition. The room swam into blurry white light with every inch. Riley almost passed out. They stopped, both he and Julian breathing heavily.
Cai jammed a new magazine into his gun. “Hello, Xander!”
Under the desk, Rocha reloaded and fired into the top of the desk. Several bullets missed Cai by less than an inch, but he didn’t move. Instead, he peeked over the edge and dropped a grenade. Then he waited for Rocha to skitter out and pulled the trigger eight times. Rocha made it a foot past the desk, then collapsed with his nose an inch from the spinning grenade with its pin still attached.
“Goodbye, Xander.” Cai turned and jumped off the desk, walking back to the center of the room, almost as if tracing his footsteps. The gun dangled and danced at his thigh. Riley almost expected him to start whistling.
Julian breathed out a sigh of relief. “Mad as a rabid hatter, but he gets the job done.” He lifted Riley’s jacket to check the wound while flinching at every sound.
“There’s at least one more. Somewhere,” Riley said between breaths. “Be quick.”
“Sure. Yeah. Bullets flying everywhere.” Julian carefully peeled back the Velcro on the vest. “I’ll just be quick about fixing a gunshot wound to the chest. Easy.” The panel burst open. Riley knocked Julian’s head out of the way and lined his gun up again. The doorway was empty.
Kelly sprinted around the farthest end of the bar as she tried to get in closer, but unless she made a target of herself in the center of the room, the door would block her view. It was up to Riley, but his pain was nearly unbearable as the muscles in his arms protested the two pounds of gun. Finally, the figure in the dark room edged out. Riley pulled the trigger and missed by at least ten inches. The door clicked shut. “Shit. Fuck.”
Cai swung toward Riley, brows knitted. His head tilted like a cat watching injured prey.
Kelly beelined to the sofa and started to crouch-walk around it.
Then Thomas Cole’s feet slapped against the floor. He stumbled toward the north end of the room where both the elevator and stairwell offered exits.
Cai pivoted and sprinted that direction. He used the overturned chair to launch across the room, landing at Cole’s feet. A sobbing, panicked Cole slipped and fell in his haste to escape. Cai followed, a slight smile on his lips. Cole got to his feet, switching directions to run diagonally toward the bathroom, which was both closer and a direct path. He desperately pressed the wall until the door sprung open. Rivers, the same man from the stairwell, shoved Cole away and then raised his gun as he tried to retreat back into the darkened room. Riley fired. He didn’t see where his bullet landed, but when the door slowly swung open again, Rivers was crumpled atop Walter Cole’s corpse.
Riley turned to ask for help stemming the blood. Julian was already crawling back to him.
Thomas Cole, repelled by the corpses, skittered backward over furniture as Cai pursued him.
Kelly raised her gun. “Drop it,” she screamed at Cai. She couldn’t fire from her position without risking hitting Cole.
“Cai,” Riley whispered. “Stop.”
Julian closed his eyes, tears running down his cheeks. “He won’t stop.”
“Look at me!” Cai screamed. Cole turned to run but Cai shoved him. He fell forward and re-curled into a fetal position a few feet beyond the partition. “Look at me!” Cai followed Cole, stomping and kicking his stomach and head with his bare feet until Cole rolled onto his back. “Beg!”
Kelly fired and missed.
Cai straddled Cole’s thighs, pointing the gun at his forehead. “Beg!”
Only a heart or headshot would save Cole and only Riley had line of sight.
“Cai, drop the gun.” Riley’s voice was dry and raspy, barely audible. “Please.” He dreaded raising his gun.
Cole lifted his hands but then dropped them to his sides. He looked at the gun, closed his eyes tight and said, “Do it.”
“Nikolaj, drop the fucking gun,” Kelly scrambled across broken furniture and glass shards to get into position.
“Do it?” Cai screamed, spittle foaming at the corners of his mouth and spraying onto Cole’s cheeks. “Do it?” He reversed grip, the butt of the gun smashing into Cole’s face, cracking bones. “You don’t get to choose!” The butt came down again and again. “I didn’t choose! I didn’t choose!”
Riley pushed all his energy into his voice. “Cai! Stop.” Please. God, please. I can’t kill him . Riley aimed at Cai’s head. His finger squeezed the trigger slowly. Please, God. Please, help me.
Kelly’s fist smashed into Cai’s face and knocked him off. She stood on his wrist and twisted the gun from his hand. Cole staggered away, feeling for a door he didn’t appear to see. He left a trail of wheezing breaths and bloody streaks as he searched for a way out.
Cai tried to go after him, but Kelly pulled him back against her chest then dropped to the ground. She leaned against the partition, wrapping one arm around his stomach and both her legs around his waist. “Shhh,” she whispered.
“I didn’t choose! I didn’t choose.” Cai wailed, struggling in her grip, clawing at her arms and legs, elbowing her, thrashing against her. The door to the executive office clicked shut as Cole found his escape. Cai let out a howl of rage and then went limp. His broken sobs ripped through Riley.
Kelly caught Riley’s eyes as she clicked the headset wrapped around her ear. “This is Agent Kelly Marks. Seventh floor clear. Three hostiles down. Agent Cordova, and three hostages severely injured…”
Minutes later, helicopter blades thumped near the roof. Whether that was the cavalry or the sniper, Riley couldn’t tell. Either way it was over.
Kelly stroked Cai’s forehead and hair, rocking while murmuring, “Shhh. It’s okay. Shhh.”
Julian tore off his t-shirt and covered the wound in Riley’s side with it. The blood pumped out slower and slower. It must not be that bad if he could stem the flow this fast.
“Where is the fucking rest of your lot?” Julian’s loud voice felt like bombs in the aftermath of silence. “Two? They sent two? Bloody, stupid yanks. Guns fucking everywhere except with the bloody cops? Just lucky he’s a bag of psychotic nuts, innit. Otherwise, we’d all be fucking dead. I don’t un…”
In the corner of the bar a heap of electric blue stirred. It rose up like a broken doll, wheezes competing with Julian’s whimpered complaints and Kelly’s murmurs. Rachel stopped several times on her way. Everyone but Cai became silent while watching her. She collapsed against Julian, wrapped her arms around his waist, and then passed out.
Riley felt the room sway. He saw a bright light. Then nothing.