…that Harvey had lied to him.
“It’s on the fifth floor. 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!”
He was there right now. Fifth floor. Right hallway out of the elevator. Last door on the right.
And there was nothing here that even looked remotely like a secret lab where The Deacon was cooking up a new weapon that could challenge Black Tide.
There was just…an empty hotel suite.
Harvey, you lying sack of shit.
He was wondering how hard Norris would laugh at him when he found out about this. Then again, hearing Norris laugh would be a good thing, because it’d mean Keo was still alive to be properly ridiculed. Right now, that was preferable to being dead.
Claire had backed up until she was standing beside him, but she kept her eyes on the door and the Glock in her hand. He wasn’t sure if she’d reloaded or not, or even if she had an extra mag to do that. She flexed her fingers on the gun’s grip, and there was a steely look of determination on her face.
Damn. She looks like Gaby right now.
“Good job,” Keo said.
He spoke calmly and didn’t attempt to hide his voice. They were beyond that now. The Shakers outside in the hallway knew exactly where they were, and no amount of whispering was going to change that.
Claire gave him a confused look. “What?”
“Good job.”
“For what?”
“Everything.”
She stared at him for a bit, as if unsure what he was talking about.
Finally, she said, “Thanks. But we still fucked up.”
“Yeah. We did. Mostly me.”
“Me too.”
He shrugged. “Let’s call it fifty-fifty.”
“More like seventy-thirty.”
“Who’s the seventy?”
“Who do you think?”
He grinned, and she returned it.
Pop! as the first bullet smashed through the door and zipped between them.
They both dived to the floor reflexively as the torrent of gunfire began.
Pop-pop-pop-pop!
Bullets buzzed like flies over their heads as Keo began crawling toward the open bedroom door across the room.
Pop-pop-pop-pop!
Claire came to the same conclusion and joined him, the two of them moving like rug rats across the wide, empty room.
Pop-pop-pop-pop!
Fading moonlight from a window somewhere in the bedroom caused the open door to glow like a beacon of hope.
The barrage continued behind them. The pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire was now joined by the bang-bang-bang of handguns.
Keo didn’t bother glancing back to see if the Shakers had started to come in. The answer was no, because if they were, then they wouldn’t still be shooting and risk friendly fire. Besides, he could hear the door breaking, pieces of it flitting across the room at him and Claire—splinters landing on his hair and back—as they continued pouring it on.
Finally, they reached the bedroom and slid in opposite directions, until they were hiding behind walls. Keo remained low to the ground and didn’t bother reaching up for the door to close it. Instead, he slithered back toward the opening and looked out, even as bullets continued to pek-pek-pek the walls around him, the rounds easily punching through the front door and the wall that separated the bedroom and living room. Glass shattered behind him as bullets destroyed windows and pekked into the wallpaper.
And then, silence.
The only sounds left were Keo’s and Claire’s labored breathing, along with the clink-clink-clink, like raindrops, as pieces of glass fell from the French doors that opened out into the suite’s balcony. Large swaths of moonlight filled the bedroom from outside, and Keo could hear the sound of rushing water nearby.
They were inside one of the suites that overlooked the river.
He glanced across at Claire. She was similarly low to the ground and catching her breath. Her eyes were wide when they met his.
He nodded at her, and she returned it.
Tough kid. You’d be proud of her, Gaby.
Keo peeked out the bedroom and at what remained of the front door. There wasn’t much of a door left, and what was still there hung off a single hinge as the perforated slab of wood swung slowly inward, revealing silhouetted figures outside.
Shakers.
A lot of them.
Keo wasn’t sure if they saw him or not, because they started to come inside, stepping over bodies on the floor. They were clumsy, each man trying to be the first one inside, pushing against one another. It was impossibly disorganized. The sight reminded him of a horde of ghouls, only…clumsier.
The MP5SD was resting on the floor when Keo squeezed off a burst.
Two of the figures fell.
Keo kept firing, and two more slumped to the floor, landing on top of the ones already down there.
The rest reversed course. Keo thought about sending a few more rounds after them, maybe even try to pick off the ones that had gone into hiding behind the hallway walls by shooting through them, but decided against it.
He pulled back and waited. He’d come to Shaker Town with two spare magazines for the MP5SD, and he was already halfway through the first one. He had the Glock in his hip holster, with a spare mag for that, but that was it.
…that was it…
He looked across the open door at Claire. She had come to the hotel with her pistol and a knife, and at least one spare mag. He didn’t know if she had more than that. Of course, he wouldn’t have been conserving ammo nearly as much if Claire hadn’t tossed the tactical pack he’d given to her to hold for him. If only he still had that bag…
“You good?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not even remotely.”
Ask a stupid question, get a stupid answer, pal.
Keo spent the next few seconds looking around the bedroom. It was big, but that was expected from a suite inside a five-star resort. The big king-size bed, its blankets strewn about the floor, squatted to his right, with a dresser and closet on the left. There was an ottoman in front of a big armchair in the corner and what looked like a sofa that could probably also be used as an extra bed. Both items had fresh holes in them.
The only other way out of the room besides the door between him and Claire was the balcony in the back. It sat behind the destroyed glass French doors, a pair of solar-powered LED lightbulbs perched on top of the railing.
Keo listened to the soothing noise of the river running somewhere outside. When he first saw how the balconies were hanging over the water, he remembered thinking that someone could jump off the balcony and right into the sloshing currents, if they were so inclined. Of course, he’d have to be pretty desperate to do that.
“What now?” Claire asked.
Keo looked over at her. “I don’t know.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought you’d have some ideas.”
“Why did you think that?”
“You’ve been in these situations before.”
“Who told you that?”
She might have rolled her eyes at him. “Everyone. You’re Keo.”
He didn’t answer right away. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how to respond, mostly because he wasn’t even certain what she’d meant by that.
He was Keo? Of course he was Keo.
So what did him being Keo have anything to do with this?
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?”
“What’s the plan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Swell.”
He couldn’t help but grin at that response.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just—”
“Hey, Chang!” someone shouted from the hallway.
Keo slid back to the floor and leaned toward the door. He looked out and across the living roo
m at the front door on the other side. He couldn’t see anyone.
That wasn’t entirely true. He couldn’t see anyone alive in the darkness. He could make out the bodies just fine. The Shakers hadn’t bothered to drag their dead out of the way. Maybe they were waiting for something.
Or someone.
“Who was that?” Claire asked. She was whispering again.
“I don’t know,” Keo said.
“Hey, Chang!” the same voice called out a second time.
“He knows you,” Claire said.
“No, he doesn’t,” Keo said. “He thinks I’m Chang.”
“Or should I call you Keo!” the voice shouted.
“Or not,” Claire said.
Keo sighed and thought, Swell. They know who I am.
Twenty-Three
“They know your name.”
“Yeah, I noticed that.”
“How do they know your name?”
“I don’t know, Claire.”
“But they know your name.”
Keo sighed. It was probably a little louder than he’d intended. “I heard. Trust me, I heard that too.”
Claire stared at him. Keo wasn’t sure how to respond, because he was thinking the same thing she was.
How the hell do they know my name?
As shocked as she was, he was more so.
Double shocked.
Triple, even.
Quadruple?
“Yo, Keo!” the same voice shouted. The man was somewhere in the hallway beyond the wide-open front door because there was an echoey quality to his words. “So does the fact that you came back here all by your little lonesome, without Harvey anywhere in sight, mean the big man’s dead?”
Keo didn’t answer.
“Come on, Keo,” the voice continued. “Don’t be shy. We’re all friends here.”
“Friends my ass,” Claire said.
He smiled. Keo agreed with her assessment.
But he also knew there was nothing to be gained by keeping quiet. The man already knew his real name, which meant he probably knew who had sent Keo here, too. More than that, the man likely also had a good idea why Keo was here.
The enemy knew more about him than Keo did about them. He couldn’t even place the voice, and as far as he could tell, it didn’t sound familiar. It was extremely annoying.
Keo slid against the cold tiled floor and peeked out the bedroom door. He looked across the living room and toward the hallway. As dark now as the last time he’d looked, but his eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out the bodies stacked on the ground, a pair of them lying half in and half out of the open door frame.
If the Shakers attacked, it wouldn’t have taken much for Keo to move the MP5SD into position and open fire. He was actually hoping they’d do that so he could respond in kind. The fact that they were hanging back, happy to let the shouter do his work, was a bad sign that they weren’t as dumb as he’d hoped. Keo would have liked nothing more than to thin out their numbers. Not that he thought he could do enough of that to waltz out of Shaker Town.
No, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. They had more bodies than he had bullets.
So Keo did the next best thing, and stalled for time.
“Who am I talking to?” he shouted.
A brief stretch of silence, as if the shouter were caught off guard that Keo had responded finally, and didn’t quite know what to do next.
That didn’t last very long.
“You don’t recognize my voice?” the man said.
Keo exchanged a quick look with Claire. She shook her head back at him as if to say, I don’t recognize it.
“No, can’t say I do,” Keo shouted back.
“Aw, man, I’m hurt,” the man said.
“So, who are you?”
“Hey, if you don’t recognize my voice, I’m not going to tell you.”
“I don’t know who you are, pal.”
“Yes, you do.”
“So just tell me your name already, and stop dancing around.”
Another brief moment of silence.
“Well?” Keo continued.
“Nah, I don’t think I will,” the man said. “I’ll leave it to you to figure it out.”
“That’s gonna take some time, because I don’t have a clue.”
“I can see that.”
“Don’t take it personally.”
“But I have to. I thought we were old buddies.”
Again, Keo exchanged another glance with Claire.
And again, he was reasonably sure she was thinking the exact same thing he was: “Who is this guy?”
Keo looked back over his shoulder toward the other side of the bedroom. It was big enough that he and Claire could probably hold out for a while. But that was a finite option. Sooner or later, they’d be overrun. Or worse. A grenade or two lobbed in the right direction, and they were done for.
So why hadn’t the bad guys tossed a few frags into the bedroom yet? Maybe he should be closing the door just in case they got wise.
No, not yet. With the door closed, he wouldn’t be able to pick them off when they tried another assault. They would gain ground on him and Claire if he couldn’t see them coming. He didn’t like the idea of Shakers stationed directly on the other side of the same wall.
Keo’s eyes rested on the twin French doors and the balcony beyond. There was no one out there, and he didn’t expect there to be. Certainly, if the Shakers wanted to jump down from the roof and onto the balcony, they could, and with minimal fear of going over the railing. But why do that when they didn’t have to? Right now, they had Claire and him cornered like rats. There was simply nowhere for them to go.
“Well?” Claire said.
“Well what?” Keo said.
“How do we get out of this?”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
“Great. I guess it’s true what they say…”
“What’s that?”
“Never meet your heroes. You’ll only find disappointment.”
Keo grinned. “I’m your hero?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a saying.”
He chuckled, then looked out the bedroom door and across the living room at the hallway beyond.
Flickers of motion as Shakers moved around in the hallway. They never revealed enough of themselves for him to squeeze off a burst or two. Either they’d gotten smart or someone had shown up to give orders. Probably the same guy who knew Keo by name.
Who the hell is this guy?
Keo glanced down at his watch.
An hour, tops, before sunrise.
And then?
And then…
He sighed again. And again, it was a little too loud, because Claire heard it.
“You said something?” she asked.
“No.”
“I thought you said something.”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
“Hey, Keo!” the same Shaker shouted from somewhere in the hallway. Keo wished he could have seen the man’s face to get a clue about his identity.
He asked himself again if the voice sounded familiar.
It didn’t.
Right?
“Yeah?” Keo shouted back.
“You know, I thought you were dead,” the man said.
“Is that right?”
“Had no idea you got out of Darby Bay alive.”
Claire’s body tensed noticeably across the door. It was the mention of Darby Bay that did it, bringing back all kinds of memories for both of them. Bad memories. The coastal city was a long time ago, and Keo would rather forget all about it. Claire, too.
But here it was, back again. And this loudmouth that knew Keo was bringing it all back against their will.
Who the hell is this guy?
“Keo!” that same loudmouth shouted.
“Yeah?” Keo said, when what he really wanted was to scream back, “Go fuck yourself, motherfucker!”
Except he
didn’t, because he needed information. The enemy knew way more about him than he did about them, and that was unacceptable.
“You really don’t remember me?” the man said.
“No,” Keo said. “Why don’t you let me see your face?”
The man laughed. It was a full-throated laugh, and Keo couldn’t quite decide if it was too forced or completely genuine.
“Now what would be the fun in that?” the man said. “I think I’m going to keep you guessing.”
“That’s not very fair of you. You know who I am, but I don’t have a clue about you. Give a guy a chance!”
The man laughed again. It was definitely a real laugh. The asshole was having the time of his life, apparently. That just made Keo even more pissed off. He was really, really starting to hate this guy…whoever the hell he was.
“You should have seen me when I saw you in town, Keo,” the man said. “Would have done a spit take, if I had water in my mouth.”
He saw me. Shit. He saw me, and I never saw him.
So why didn’t the guy do something about it before? Why did he drag this out, hiding himself until now?
None of it made any sense.
“But man, you did a number on my guys up here,” the guy said.
“My guys?” Keo thought.
That meant Mr. Mysterious had a leadership position in Shaker Town. A position but not the position, because Keo knew who that was. Black Tide had an entire dossier on John Deacon, a.k.a. The Deacon, including a very recent photo. Keo had never seen the man before.
So who was this guy, and what made the ones Keo killed his “guys?”
“Then I remembered who you are, what you’re capable of,” the man continued. “After that, I was surprised you killed so few.”
Keo smirked to himself. “You’re too kind, whoever you are.”
“Credit is given where credit is due.”
“Wish I could return the favor, but I don’t know who you are, and you won’t tell me.”
Road To Babylon | Book 10 | 100 Deep Page 18