Caine looked down the hall and confirmed it was clear as they made their way towards the elevator. “Yeah,” he muttered.
Sean shook his head. “Some kind of life.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
As soon as they stepped into the lobby, Caine knew something was wrong.
He spotted three men dressed in casual clothes: jeans, dress shirts, leather jackets. Two of them sat on the sofas, flipping through the old, tattered magazines. The third was leaning against the front desk as if he was waiting from something.
They felt wrong.
The front desk was empty. There was no sign of the desk manager, but the gate was still half-open.
He felt the old familiar tingle on the back of his neck. A sixth sense of impending violence attuned by spending years in its company. The hazy afternoon sunlight beamed through the front doors of the building.
Those doors are a choke point, Caine thought. That’s where they want us to go.
Caine nudged Sean and stepped left, towards the desk. Sean gave him a knowing look and followed behind him in silence.
Kid feels it too, Caine thought. Good instincts.
Caine’s hand dropped to his front pocket. His fingers wrapped around a loose handful of coins, change left over from their dim sum lunch. The man standing in front of the desk looked up. A flicker of surprise flashed over his stony features, and Caine smiled.
“Hey, where’s the front desk guy?” Caine asked. “Our cable’s out.”
The man’s right hand drifted towards the waistband of his jeans. It was a slow, casual movement, but to Caine it was as obvious as a neon sign. The Chinese man shook his head
“Meiyou yingwen. No English.”
“Bullshit,” Caine snarled. “Catch!”
Caine yanked his hand from his pocket as the Chinese man's pistol cleared his waistband. Before the man could aim his gun, Caine flung the handful of coins towards him. The man instinctively raised his free hand to block his face. The barrage of shiny metal coins pelted his open palm. They were a distraction, nothing more.
That brief window of time was all Caine needed.
He stepped towards the man and pivoted right. The Chinese man struggled to turn with him, but he was too slow. As he raised the gun, Caine’s left arm shot out and grabbed his wrist. He pushed the gun away from him, pointing the muzzle behind the empty desk.
His right hand formed a stiff “L” shape and slid up under the barrel of the pistol. The man struggled to re-orient the weapon towards Caine, but he was trapped. Caine yanked his wrist back with his left hand and dipped his outside shoulder down. The sudden movement wrenched the gun from the man’s grasp. As Caine’s fingers wrapped around the butt of the pistol, he threw a left hook, into the man’s face.
The man staggered backwards. Caine’s right arm swung toward him. The butt of the pistol slammed into his nose with a loud crack. He fell back onto the front desk, clutching his broken nose. A crimson spatter of blood sprayed from his nostrils.
Caine didn’t stop moving. He leapt up into the air and grabbed the lower bars of the security gate. His weight drove the gate down, and it slid along its track with a loud, metallic clatter. The heavy metal bar slammed into the Chinese man’s chest. He gasped in pain as it struck him with a dull, fleshy thud and bounced off his ribs. Then he rolled off the desk and fell to the floor, groaning.
From the corner of his eye, Caine saw the other two men moving towards them. More men were streaming in through the front doors, led by a tall, slim man wearing a sleek, tailored suit. His skin had a pale, waxy look, and dark tortoiseshell sunglasses concealed his eyes.
Caine grabbed Sean. “Move!” he shouted. “Behind the desk!”
They leapt over the desk, sliding under the half-open gate as the other men opened fire. A hail of bullets screamed above them, punching holes in the wall behind the desk. Caine heard a man shout in Chinese.
“Buyao sha tamen. Do not kill them! I want Sean Tyler alive!”
“Back the way we came, upstairs,” Caine snapped. “Go!” Keeping low, they crept behind the desk and out into the hallway that led to the apartments.
They raced down the hall. The frosted glass doors exploded behind them. Shards of white powdered glass flew into the air.
Sean pounded the elevator button. Caine grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the stairwell.
“Elevator’s no good, they can shut it down.”
Sean panted as they raced up the stairs. “That guy in the suit … he’s from the Ministry of State Security. He visited me at the black jail.”
“We can’t let him take you in. The assassin, Red Phoenix … it could be anyone in the Ministry, including him. Keep going up. If we can make it to the roof, maybe we can jump to the next building.”
“Wait, what? Did you say jump?”
Caine heard shouting on the stair beneath them. He glanced at the pistol in his hand. It was a Chinese-made NORINCO QSZ-92, chambered in 9mm. He spun around and fired two wild shots down the stairs.
“What are you shooting at?” Sean gasped as they rounded another flight of stairs.
“Just trying to slow them down … Keep moving!”
They ascended to the third-floor landing. Caine heard more shouting, this time from above them. He grabbed Sean and pulled him backwards. A hail of automatic weapon fire tore into the floor in front of them. Bullets screamed and whined as they ricocheted through the stairwell. A stray shot thudded into a door to their right.
Caine hissed a silent curse. “They must have had men on the roof. This way!” He kicked open the door, and they charged down another hallway. Rows of apartment doors flanked them to the left and right.
An elderly man in a bathrobe opened his door and bent down to grab a newspaper off his door mat. He looked up and saw Caine and Sean sprinting down the hall towards him. Caine raised his pistol. The elderly man’s sunken eyes opened wide with fear.
“Shen me guei dong shi!?!” he screamed and slammed the door shut as they rushed past.
Caine aimed the gun at the dusty, cracked window at the end of the hall. He fired three shots. The glass shattered, revealing a fire escape perched on the side of the building. Beyond the rickety metal platform, the steel beams and girders of the construction site rose up into the air.
“Through the window!” Caine shouted.
The stairwell door crashed open behind them. Caine looked over his shoulder. Men dressed in SWAT tactical gear flooded into the hallway. They were wearing body armor and carrying QCW-05 submachine guns. Caine recognized the bullpup design of the stocks. He knew the weapons were capable of firing subsonic armor-piercing rounds. Quiet and lethal, they were able to punch through armor plating at a hundred meters or less.
He fired a few more wild shots behind him. The SWAT team dropped to their knees as they took up defensive positions along the walls.
Whipping off his jacket, he tossed it to Sean. “Here, wrap your hands in this.”
Then he vaulted through the broken window, wincing as shards of glass bit into his flesh. The rusty metal fire escape shook as his weight slammed into it, but it held.
Caine kept running. He leapt up, planted his foot on the railing of the fire escape, and pushed off. He flew towards the construction site and sailed across the gap between the buildings.
He landed on the other side with a grunt and rolled across several sheets of plywood, a temporary floor that covered the metal beams. A skeleton of steel and concrete columns rose around him. He sprang to his feet and took cover behind one of the columns.
Sean ran to the edge of the fire escape, then stopped. Caine peered around the column. In the darkness beyond the window, he could see shadowy figures stalking towards Sean. They were closing in on the frightened young man.
“Sean, jump!” he shouted. “Don’t think, just do it!”
Caine heard muted Chinese shouting from inside the apartment building. Sean looked over his shoulder, then back at Caine. He planted his foot on the railin
g … and jumped.
Bad take-off, Caine thought. He’s not gonna make it.
Sure enough, Sean screamed in panic as his torso slammed into the side-beam of the other building. His hands clawed at the metal ledge as his legs flailed in the air beneath him.
Caine charged forward, firing into the shattered window of the building. The SWAT team inside took cover behind an open apartment door.
Caine knelt down and grabbed Sean’s hand. “I got you, stop kicking!”
Bracing his feet against the beam, he used one hand to pull Sean up. Gunfire roared through the air as he sent another double tap towards the men in the opposite building.
One of the SWAT team broke cover and charged for the window. Caine pulled Sean towards one of the support columns as the man opened fire with his QCW-05 submachine gun. The subsonic shots sounded liked popping fireworks rather than the explosive boom of Caine’s pistol. The wood flooring rattled and shook as bullets slammed into it, nipping at their heels.
They ducked behind the concrete column just as a trail of sparking gunfire ran up its length. The armor-piercing rounds gouged deep holes into the concrete. White, chalky dust exploded into the air. Sean winced as a sliver of shrapnel cut across his cheek.
“Holy shit!” he exclaimed as he brought his hand up and felt blood.
Caine glanced at the cut and squinted. “You’re fine, it’s just a scratch.”
Sean’s face was pale, and his bloodied hand was trembling. “They’re shooting at us! I thought they wanted to take me in alive?”
“That’s their primary objective.”
“Primary? What’s their secondary objective?”
Caine didn't answer. Several heavy thuds shook the plywood flooring. The SWAT team had jumped over.
“We have to keep moving," he shouted. "Get behind me, go!"
Caine stepped out from behind the column. He fired as they back-pedaled towards the other side of the skeletal building. Three members of the SWAT team had followed them across the gap. The men positioned themselves behind the columns, taking turns covering each other as they advanced forward.
On the other side of the partially constructed building, a long, orange cage clung to the side of the structure. Caine saw the platform of a hydraulic airlift sitting at rest in the metal framework. He pointed forward.
“There! We can use the lift, get down to street level.”
Sean sprinted towards the lift. Caine ducked behind another column and looked left and right. The SWAT team was moving down the center of the structure. They crisscrossed left and right, continuing to take cover behind the columns. He waited until the closest man ducked behind cover. Then he darted back the way he came and threw himself behind the next column.
Their attention is focused on Sean, he thought. With any luck, they didn’t see me double back.
He heard the footsteps of the men tramping closer. They were wearing heavy combat gear, and the wood flooring vibrated with every footfall. Caine stayed motionless, taking in soft, shallow breaths. These men were well-trained. They would be difficult to surprise.
The footsteps thudded closer. One of the men was approaching the column.
Now!
Caine darted out from hiding just before the SWAT officer moved past. Keeping his body turned sideways to make it a smaller target, he wrapped his left hand around the barrel of the man's QCW-05. He jerked forward and pivoted, keeping the SWAT officer’s body between him and the rest of the team. As he moved, he wrapped his right hand around the butt of the rifle and drove his knee upwards.
The blow connected with the man’s groin. He was wearing a cup, but he instinctively stepped back. He dropped one of his hands to protect his vitals. Caine tore the submachine gun free from his grip. He saw the other men closing in behind the officer he had just disarmed. There were three more of them. The flooring trembled under their combined weight.
He aimed the submachine gun at the men charging towards him.
Caine had killed many men in battle, more than he could ever count. He didn’t enjoy it, but in matters of life or death he had no qualms about doing what was necessary. But now, years of experience told him he would not be able to drop all four men before they were able to take out him, or Sean.
In a fraction of a second, he made a decision. He lowered his aim and kicked the man he had just disarmed backwards. The other men charged closer. Caine took a step back and felt his foot make contact with a metal beam. He pulled the trigger on the submachine gun.
Gunfire crackled through the air. He swept a line of automatic weapon fire across the plywood sheet just in front of the SWAT team.
The wood flooring splintered and cracked. The lead SWAT member raised his gun and stepped forward, but he was too late. The weakened panel snapped in half and collapsed. The SWAT team tumbled down to the floor below. As they fell, they fired their weapons, but their shots went wild. Bullets ricocheted off the metal girders, and Caine ducked as a stray shot whistled past his ear.
Caine turned and saw Sean leap onto the air lift. The metal platform buckled a bit, and Caine could see the air tanks and hoses shake underneath the lift.
“Come on, man, let’s go!” Sean called to him. As Caine jogged towards him, he heard more footsteps echoing through the structure. These were lighter, farther away. He looked up and saw the plywood sheets above him buckling. There was a gap in the flooring ahead, between him and Sean. Someone was running toward it, on the floor above.
The footsteps paused. A beam of green light pierced through the plaster dust that filled the air. It swung towards Sean, aiming straight down through the gap in the floor. Caine recognized it immediately. Green laser sights were brighter, and easier to see in daylight. The figure above them was a sniper.
“Sean, get down now!” Caine shouted.
Sean crouched down next to the lift controls. A high-pitched whine sliced through the air, and a bullet sparked off the orange frame of the lift.
“What the—” Sean yelled in surprise. Caine continued running towards him. He aimed the submachine gun at the floor above and opened fire. Bullets tore into the sheets of wood.
Through the gaps in the flooring, he could just make out a dark figure leaping and dodging above him.
Not SWAT. The assassin … it has to be Red Phoenix! he thought. Bernatto wasn’t lying after all.
Sean squeezed himself between the controls and the edge of the lift. Another shot streaked toward him, slamming into the lift controls. The panel exploded in a shower of sparks. Sean cried out, covering his head with his hands.
Caine cursed and turned his gun towards the lift. He aimed at the air hoses underneath the platform and pulled the trigger. After a brief crackle of gunfire, the gun’s magazine was empty. He heard a loud hissing sound. The hoses underneath the lift whipped and snaked through the air. His bullets had torn them to shreds, releasing the compressed air in the tanks.
The lift platform dropped. Its decent was slow at first, but an instant later it picked up speed. One more high-power shot rang out from above, but it struck the empty lift cage as the platform fell out of view.
The shadowy figure above him leapt through the gap and landed in a crouch on the floor, next to the empty lift. They were dressed head to toe in black tactical gear. A hood covered the killer’s face, and a variety of knifes, pistols, and other weapons hung from a harness. A DT SRS A1 Covert, a compact short-range sniper rifle, was slung around the assassin’s shoulder on a strap.
Caine charged, swinging his empty gun like a club. The figure sprang up and sidestepped the blow. Whoever it was under the hood, they were small, nimble, and fast. Without missing a beat, the assassin closed in, pummeling Caine’s chin and shoulder with a series of rapid elbow strikes.
A leg swung up in a sideways kick, aiming towards Caine’s knee. He twisted his body, blocking the kick with the empty gun. Then he released the gun and slammed an elbow into the assassin’s face. He heard a gasp of pain as the blow connected. The dark figure took
a step back.
Caine hunched down into a boxer’s position … head down, shoulders up, hands loose in front of his face. He feinted with a left jab. The assassin bobbed and ducked, weaving back and forth like a cobra. Caine caught a glimpse of brown eyes beneath the hood.
Something about those eyes … he thought. They were familiar to him.
He pivoted and his right arm exploded out in a powerful hook. The assassin blocked with an open left hand, then clutched Caine’s shoulder as the punch went wide. The nimble attacker ducked underneath his outstretched arm, and grabbed his knee with both hands.
The movements were like lightning … rapid, precise, and devastating.
Caine struggled to maintain his balance, but the assassin’s momentum was working against him. The compact, muscular body spun around, and Caine felt his leg rise up into the air.
As he slammed down to the ground, his legs sprawled open. The dark figure raised a foot into the air. Caine rolled right, barely avoiding the assassin’s boot as it stomped into empty space.
He heard a deafening roar beneath him. The flooring rattled and vibrated. Through the cracks below, he could see some kind of massive vehicle moving beneath them. It was driving towards the edge of the foundation pit.
Caine spun his body around as the assassin’s leg shot forward in another kick attack. He hooked the descending leg with his left arm and pushed his body up, using his right arm as a lever across their knees.
The assassin tipped backwards and dangled over the edge of the building. Caine rolled on top of the dark figure and pulled his fist back for a punch attack.
As he swung, the assassin went limp, letting their upper body drop lower over the edge. Caine’s punch sliced through thin air. The assassin’s legs wrapped around him. He felt powerful muscles crushing his torso.
Gunfire screamed overhead and ricocheted off the metal bars of the lift cage. Caine turned his head and saw more SWAT team members charging towards them. He knew that, unlike Sean, they had no need to take him in alive.
The rumble of the construction vehicle was deafening. Caine looked down and saw it moving directly beneath them as it exited the pit.
Thomas Caine series Boxset Page 55