Chapter 46
“Why aren’t there any guardrails?” Ronan asked.
He and Emma were crouched atop of the tower, on the hinge side of the now closed hatch.
“It doesn’t need guardrails,” she said.
“Au contraire. It very much needs them.”
She pointed at the eyebolt tie points attached to the roof. “We use safety lines.”
“You didn’t happen to bring one with you?”
“No,” she said. “Just try not to fall off.”
“Great advice.”
Several minutes passed without anyone coming after them.
“They must not realize we’re up here,” Ronan said.
She said nothing, because she knew if the people helping Marty were halfway intelligent, they’d figure it out eventually.
A car horn blared from below several times.
Ronan looked at her, confused. She shrugged, having no idea why it had gone off, either.
Moments later, a clanking sound came from inside the tower.
“What’s that?” Ronan asked.
“Someone’s coming up.”
The steps inside grew louder and louder, then stopped right below them.
The hatch began to move slowly upward.
Emma tapped Ronan’s arm, then mimed pushing down on it. He nodded and reached toward it, but then she stopped him.
In his ear, she whispered, “Not yet. When I say.”
He nodded again.
She waited until the hatch passed the forty-five-degree mark, then whispered, “Now.”
They shoved until the hatch slammed shut.
Emma started to lean in to listen for movement on the other side, but the hatch shot up again, much faster than last time, and grazed her head.
Ronan caught her as she fell backward.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Before she could answer, the hatch opened all the way, and the guy who’d put the gun to Ronan’s head earlier climbed out. Blood trickled down the side of his face from a cut somewhere on his head.
He sneered as he raised his pistol. “Nice try. Too bad you failed.” With his free hand, he motioned for them to stand. “Come over here, we’re going back down.”
Having played the only card they’d had, they had no choice but to do as he wanted.
Ronan helped Emma to her feet, and they stepped gingerly around the hatch.
“You first,” the guy said to Emma.
She glanced at him and then at Ronan.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Ronan said.
She began lowering herself through the opening and was almost all the way inside when the man said to Ronan, “You, we don’t need.”
Emma was not always great at understanding the intentions of other people’s words, but this time she had no problem doing so.
Without hesitating, she grabbed one of the man’s ankles and yanked it sideways with as much strength as she could muster.
As he stumbled, his gun went off, the sound far more muted than she would have expected.
He would have regained his balance if his last step hadn’t fallen on the spot where the housing curved downward. With a startled gasp, he fell over the side and disappeared.
Emma climbed back out and scrambled to Ronan. “Are you hit?”
“No. His shot went wild.”
She sighed in relief, then had the overwhelming urge to do one of the most un-Emma-like things ever. She pulled him into a hug and held him tight.
That’s when they heard the clanks of someone else coming up.
—
Teddy heard a flapping noise from above. He looked up just in time to see a man plummet the final few yards to the ground.
He hurried to the body. The dead man wasn’t Ronan, as he’d feared, but the motorcyclist.
He ran to the tower door, yanked it open, and swept the room beyond with his gun. While the room was unoccupied, he heard noise coming from the shaft. He moved to it and looked up.
Marty was nearing the top, while Popov, who was both older and beefier, had yet to reach the halfway point.
“Mr. Popov?” Teddy said.
The Belarusian paused and glanced down.
“Bad news for you, I’m afraid,” Teddy said. “All your men are either dead or incapacitated. It’s just you and Marty, and I have a feeling he’s not much of a fighter. So why don’t you come back down?”
“Fuck you!” Popov yelled, then kept going up.
Teddy grimaced, then started up the ladder behind him.
—
Emma and Ronan looked down the shaft.
There were two people on the ladder, the nearer one almost to the top.
“That’s Marty, isn’t it?” Ronan said.
At the sound of his name, Marty looked up, then stopped climbing when he realized who was looking at him.
“Yep,” Emma said.
“Where’s Vladimir?” Marty asked.
“Who is Vladimir?” Emma asked.
“Is he the guy who came up first?” Ronan asked.
Marty nodded.
“Sorry, he left already.”
“Left? I didn’t see him.”
“He decided to take the fast way down,” Emma said.
“The fast way? What does…” Marty’s words trailed off as he realized what she meant.
“Come on up,” Ronan said. “You can take the same route.”
Marty stared at them for several seconds, then started climbing back down.
—
Popov was breathing so hard, he didn’t notice Marty heading his way until Marty’s foot smashed into the top of his head.
Dazed, he lost his grip and started to fall backward.
Something knocked into him from below, steadying him.
“I got ya,” the man who’d shot Aleksei said. “Grab the ladder. You’ll be fine.”
Popov wrapped his fingers around the rungs.
The man yelled up the tower, “Emma, Ronan, are you two all right?”
“Mr. Barnett?” Ronan said, surprised.
“We’re fine,” Emma said.
“Glad to hear it. Let me get these two out of the way, then you can come down.” To Popov and Marty, Barnett said, “Follow me, gentlemen.”
Popov had one more trick up his sleeve or, more specifically, a palm-sized .
22-caliber pistol in a specially tailored pocket inside his jacket.
The gun didn’t pack a lot of punch, and wasn’t accurate unless close to the target, so it was a weapon of last resort.
There was also no easy way to get to it while on the ladder, but the same wouldn’t be true once he was off.
He began to descend.
—
Teddy was waiting out of the way when Popov reached the bottom.
Perhaps the Belarusian would have fooled most people when he pretended to straighten his jacket, but not Teddy.
Popov spun to face him, a small gun in his right hand.
But before he even stopped moving, Teddy sent a bullet into the man’s shoulder.
Popov screamed in pain, his gun dropping to the floor.
Teddy kicked it away, then said, “Do something stupid like that again, and the next shot will be the last thing you ever experience. Nod if you understand.”
Popov nodded.
Teddy glanced up the ladder. Marty was ten feet up, fear emanating from every pore.
“You don’t have a weapon, do you?” Teddy asked.
Marty shook his head.
“Then come on down, and you can help your friend get around.”
“He’s not my friend.”
“Oh, Marty. You say that like I should care. Now, move it.”
Dejected, Marty continued down.