Road To Babylon | Book 10 | 100 Deep

by Sisavath, Sam

  But here he was, doing just that.

  Well, not quite here, if he wanted to get pedantic about it. But man, did he want to be there when Lara gave birth.

  So he moved fast and reached the final floor within a few seconds. It was definitely not because he wanted to get away from Lance’s body as quickly as possible.

  Nope. That wasn’t it.

  Not at all.

  …not at all…

  The fifth floor was where he wanted to be. Where he needed to be. It was the end of the mission, just as long as everything Harvey had told him proved correct. Which was a big assumption, Keo had to admit, but he didn’t think the big man was lying. Of course, he’d find out for sure soon enough.

  The fifth-floor stairwell door was unlocked, and Keo turned the lever without resistance. He pushed the slab of steel open just far enough to see out, not too concerned about light from the stairwell making his presence obvious because, well, there was no light. He’d been moving through the semidarkness for a while now, and that hadn’t changed between the first floor and the fifth.

  The room immediately outside was empty. Good. He was expecting at least a couple of guards outside and was prepared to shove the door open and start shooting. Whatever happened now, he was in no man’s land and it was get it done or go home.

  And he couldn’t go home until he got it done.

  Like most hotel stairwells, this one opened up into a small reception area with two elevators across, about five meters from his position. Both elevators were not functional, like every other thing in Shaker Town—and really, most of the world these days. Even if you had the extra power, you simply didn’t waste it on things like elevators.

  Keo stepped outside, careful to make sure the stairwell entrance didn’t slam shut behind him. There was an opening to his right that connected to a long hallway extending both north and south. No doors yet, but he’d see those later. He’d been in enough hotels in his life to know how these places built their guest rooms.

  It was quiet all around him, and the paranoia in Keo was inclined to say too quiet. Except it was supposed to be. After all, it was the middle of the morning, with just an hour and change before sunup. No one should be up and awake at this time of the day. Even the guards downstairs in the lobby were snoring away.

  Keo moved toward the hallway, the MP5SD in front of him, his forefinger outside the trigger guard. His breathing was slightly labored, which he blamed on the five flights of floor he’d had to march up and definitely had nothing to do with skulking around a building full of bad guys. Or the fact that he’d just shanked the only friend he had in Shaker Town.

  Yup, that was it. That was the ticket.

  He replayed his “conversation” with Harvey earlier this morning in his head as he reached the end and leaned out, before snapping a quick glance left, then right.

  Empty. Absolutely empty on both sides.

  Where was everyone? He hadn’t expected an entire troop of men with machine guns at station, but he’d expected some Shaker presence on the fifth. Was it possible the only guards were the ones in the lobby and the ones strewn about the other floors, like Lance?

  It couldn’t be.

  He wanted to think it was possible, but the realist in him just didn’t buy it.

  This is not right.

  There’s something wrong here.

  …this is not right.

  “How many guards, exactly?” he’d asked Harvey.

  “I don’t know,” Harvey had said.

  The hammer had flown in response.

  “I don’t know!” Harvey had shouted, blood flitting from his mouth even as he crawled around on the floor, trying to get away from Keo.

  “How many guards?” Keo had asked as he stalked the man.

  “Ten! Twenty! Five! I don’t know!” Harvey had shouted. “I don’t know!”

  The man didn’t know. A few more blows, just in case, convinced Keo of that. Harvey had limited knowledge of what occurred in the hotel. The Deacon played it close to the vest, trusting the happenings on the fifth floor to only a few people. Harvey wasn’t one of them.

  Was it possible Harvey might have lied? Sure. Anything was possible, but Keo didn’t think so. Was he willing to bet his life on that notion, though?

  Yes and no.

  But mostly…maybe.

  He sighed, thought, Goddammit, Danny, I’m going to kick you in the balls when I get back, and slipped out from behind the cold wall and moved down the hallway.

  He passed closed doors to his left and right, his boots moving softly against the well-worn carpeted floor. He was traveling over dry mud and dirt and God knows what else people had brought up here from the outside world, but all Keo cared about was that he wasn’t making a lot of noise.

  Not too much noise, anyway.

  The doors were all closed, but of course he didn’t know if they were locked or not. He could have taken a second or two trying to open them, but there was no point. He had a target in mind—it was straight ahead—and the rest didn’t interest him. Besides, if he entered a room only to find a Shaker asleep in bed, he’d just have to waste a bullet. The suppressor would be much more effective in a room than it would have been inside the stairwell, but Keo still didn’t want to risk it.

  And right now, he was as risk-averse as he’d ever been.

  Which was a funny thought, considering where he was at the moment—

  Tap-tap-tap behind him!

  Keo whirled around, the submachine gun lifting as he did so, left eye settling behind the red dot sight even as his forefinger slipped into the trigger guard.

  He almost pulled the trigger.

  He almost pulled the trigger.

  And if he had, he would have killed Claire.

  She stood where the hallway joined with the elevator area, looking back at him. He recognized her blonde hair despite the lack of light—his night eyes had just about taken over now—and the slightly startled look on her face.

  Startled? That was all? She should have been terrified, because she had no idea how close she’d come to getting shot. His finger was already on the trigger and starting to put pressure on it, and all it would have taken was a slight pull and she would be dead.

  He lowered the MP5SD and scowled at her, even though he didn’t think she saw it as she hurried down the corridor toward him. She was half-running and half-walking, but making very little noise. That probably had something to do with her small size.

  He waited for her to reach him, and when she finally did, hissed, “What the hell are you doing up here?”

  “You took too long,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “You took too long. I told you, if you didn’t come back, I’d come after you.”

  “Goddammit, Claire.” Then, realizing something, “How did you get inside?”

  “You didn’t lock the door.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t lock the door after you opened it.”

  Keo’s eyes widened. Was she right? Had he forgotten to lock the back door after making his entry?

  She smirked. “Don’t worry. I locked it for you.”

  He noticed something missing about her. “Where’s my pack?”

  “I had to ditch it.”

  “You what?”

  “I had to ditch it. It was too heavy.”

  He sighed.

  “Hey, I didn’t tell you to give it to me,” Claire said as she walked past him.

  He turned and followed her, then hurried forward to take the lead. “Stay behind me.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, though he thought that was slightly—Oh, who was he kidding, it was all sarcasm. “By the way, the dead guy in the stairs. That’s…?”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, Keo.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  They went down the dark hallway, passing more doors to the right and left. The building stayed quiet except for the sounds of their breathing taking up the empty space aroun
d them.

  “Where are we going?” Claire asked.

  “Dead ahead,” Keo said, before thinking, Dead ahead? Famous last words, pal!

  “So, where are the guards?” Claire whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  She was a little too close for comfort, and he wanted to ask her to give him some space. He didn’t like that he could feel her warm breath against the back of his neck. If he had to turn to engage enemies behind them, there was a good chance he might strike her while doing so. And then there was the possibility of her unwittingly getting between his gun and the target.

  “That’s not strange to you?” she whispered. “Isn’t this a little too easy?”

  Keo stopped and turned around to look at her.

  Claire stared back, her eyes suddenly crystal clear in the semidarkness of the hallway. He didn’t say anything to her for a moment. Instead, her words reverberated inside his head.

  “That’s not strange to you? Isn’t this a little too easy?”

  It was the second part that really stuck:

  “…isn’t this a little too easy?”

  “What?” Claire whispered when he didn’t say anything after five, maybe ten seconds. “What’s wrong, Keo?”

  “You’re right, it’s too easy,” he whispered.

  He turned around, forefinger slipping into the trigger guard of the MP5SD and testing the trigger, while the fingers of his left hand tightened around the mag well.

  He stared down the corridor and waited. There were doors to his left and more to his right. There was nothing at the very end except a wall.

  One second.

  Five…

  “Keo?” Claire whispered.

  Keo didn’t say anything.

  Ten seconds…

  He continued staring down the hallway.

  Fifteen…

  “…isn’t this a little too easy?” she had asked.

  Yes, it was. It’d been very easy. From the moment he entered the lobby to the stairwell and now, the fifth floor.

  It’d been easy.

  It’d been too easy.

  “Keo?” Claire whispered again. There was a new timbre to her voice that he hadn’t heard before. Heck, that he hadn’t heard since he arrived in Shaker Town.

  Fear.

  It was fear.

  Claire was suddenly very scared.

  Twenty seconds…

  “Get ready,” he whispered.

  “What?” Claire said.

  “Get ready.”

  “For what?”

  He formed a fist with his left hand and held it up to silence her.

  She went deathly quiet.

  Twenty-five seconds…

  The first door to open was the one on his left, about three doors down from where he stood frozen in place. It barely made any sounds as it slowly, oh so slowly, opened, and the barrel of a rifle slipped outside.

  Keo returned his left hand to the mag well of the submachine gun and lined up the shot.

  The rifle barrel continued moving out of the room and into the hallway. An elongated shadow of a figure appeared on the carpeted floor underneath it.

  “Keo,” Claire whispered.

  “I know,” he said, and pulled the trigger.

  Twenty-Two

  He had a feeling this was going to happen.

  “Move!”

  “Move where?”

  Okay, so not really. But something like this.

  “Last door on the right!”

  “Why?”

  Again, not really, really, but something like this.

  “Do as I say, woman! Move, move, move!”

  And right now, that something was possibly—possibly—walking into a trap and not realizing it until too late. A hundred possibilities burst into Keo’s head, but none of them did him any good, because at this very second all he was concerned with was keeping up with Claire as she darted past him and ran down the hallway.

  Right now, Keo was moving on instinct, hoping (praying) that he was right, and that if this was a trap (It’s a trap, pal. Face the facts! You got bamboozled!), there would be even more Shakers waiting behind him back there in order to trap him like a rat. Like a stupid, clueless rat that had waltzed right into the ambush.

  Which meant the only route left was forward.

  God, he hoped he was right, because he really wanted to go home. He really wanted to see Lara again. And now that the possibility might be taken from him, Keo realized that he really, really, really wanted to be a father.

  He’d already poured at least two bursts into the door that was opening down the hallway, stitching it with bullets and dropping whoever was behind it. He knew he’d landed his target because the rifle was now on the carpeted floor along with one hand, the fingers attached to it twitching.

  Keo had no time (and the bullets to spare) to finish the man off. He was already turning around and facing back up the hallway, toward the elevators, even as he backpedaled after Claire. He looked left, then right, left, then right, fully expecting every door to start opening and Shakers to pour out of each one.

  Bang-bang-bang! from behind him.

  He snapped a quick look over his shoulder.

  Claire, Glock in hand, moving down the corridor. He couldn’t see anyone farther down, but she had to have shot at something, and the fact she was on her feet now told him she’d fired first—

  Another door—this one to the right and about four doors up from the last one—snapped open and two men rushed out. They were in a hurry and seemed to be struggling to avoid colliding with one another.

  Or, at least, that’s what Keo’s night eyes told him. There wasn’t nearly enough light for him to see every single detail. He saw just enough to know they appeared disorganized, as if they hadn’t expected him and his presence had rustled them out of bed.

  But that couldn’t have been true.

  Could it?

  Stop thinking and shoot!

  He did just that. Keo pulled the trigger, and the first man out of the door stumbled on an invisible wire and fell face-first to the dirty carpet. His partner tried to jump over him, but Keo shot the man as he was halfway in the air. The body fell over the first one—

  Bang-bang! from behind him again.

  “Claire!” Keo shouted.

  “Almost there!” she shouted back.

  He grinned to himself, when he spotted dark figures appearing all the way down the narrow passageway. They were coming out of the elevator area.

  Two.

  Three.

  More?

  Stop counting and shoot!

  He did, the sound of the H&K’s mechanisms spinning as the submachine gun spat lead up the dark hallway. One of the figures fell, and another one jerked back slightly but didn’t go down.

  Cursing filled the hotel floor before the remaining two silhouettes jumped back behind cover.

  “Come on, dude!” Claire, behind him.

  Keo turned—and almost tripped over two bodies splayed on the floor in front of an open door. The last door on the right. The same one he’d told her to run for.

  Claire was already inside, but he didn’t hear shooting. That was a good sign.

  “It’s on the fifth floor,” Harvey had said between mouthfuls of blood. “Right hallway out of the elevator. All the way to the end. Last door on the right. That’s all I know. I swear to God, that’s all I know!”

  Keo returned his eyes up the hallway, back toward the elevator. “Claire! You good?”

  “Get in here!” she shouted back.

  Something that might have looked like a head poked out from behind the wall that connected the hallway to the elevator area. Keo loosed a quick single shot in its direction, and it disappeared. He didn’t think he’d hit it, though.

  “Keo, come on!” Claire, from inside the room.

  “Coming!” Keo shouted, but stood perfectly still.

  He waited.

  Five seconds…

  Six…

  Seve
n…

  A door opened in front of him. About four doors down and on the left.

  Suckers, Keo thought, feeling pretty good about someone else being the sucker other than him tonight.

  Keo stitched the still-swinging door with a slew of 9mm rounds, the pfft-pfft-pfft! of his MP5SD’s gunshots echoing around him.

  A figure fell out of the door and slammed into the carpet. The sounds of more feet beating a hasty retreat away from the opening, along with loud cursing.

  “Keo!” Claire, shouting behind him.

  He backpedaled until he was right next to the open door. Claire was holding it open for him with one hand, her Glock gripped tightly in her right.

  He stepped through the door as she slammed it shut behind him. Like every hotel room Keo had been in, this one featured a door with a slot for a magnetic card on one side and a simple swing bar security latch on the interior. Claire flicked that latch now, then spent another second turning the deadbolt before retreating toward him.

  Bam! as something—someone—smashed into the door from the other side.

  Claire fired into the door. Keo stepped up beside her and joined her, emptying the remainder of his weapon’s magazine. He oscillated his fire from left to right and, just for good measure, top to bottom.

  It lasted only a few seconds, and both of them stopped shooting at the same time. There was no return fire, but there were enough holes in the door that he thought he heard the sound of footsteps retreating up the hallway, along with heavy breathing.

  Keo quickly reloaded, snapping in a fresh magazine even as they took half a dozen steps backward just in case the bad guys decided to return their volley. Claire did the same, slipping a new magazine into her Glock.

  “You cleared the room?” he whispered.

  She nodded out of the corner of his eye. “Yes.”

  “Good work.”

  “What now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup.”

  “Fuck, Keo.”

  “Yeah,” he said, and thought, That sounds about right.

  He turned around and got his first good look at the empty hotel room.

  He was in one of the suites, with a large living room, a kitchen immediately to his left, and a dining table after that. A loveseat took up space opposite an entertainment center with a TV stand, though the TV itself hung from the wall. Even in the semidarkness, he could make out a thick layer of dust covering the screen. The only other door was all the way across the room, and it led into the bedroom. There were two plastic cafeteria trays on the dining table and food scraps on the floor. The two dead men Claire had shot had been staying here for some time, maybe even living here. He wondered if the state of the bed would clear that up. Which meant…