by J. D. Tyler
“Oh no, you didn’t!” she said in her best pissed-off-girlfriend voice. “No bitch is coming in here and taking my man!”
With a mighty shove, she pushed Abby to one side, stepping between her and Bricker. Abby stumbled backwards, forcing the startled waiter to move.
Luke was at Abby’s side just as she whirled and slammed the heel of her hand up into the nose of the surprised fake waiter’s face. The man’s gun hit the floor at the same time he did, out cold, blood flowing freely from his face.
That was one expertly planted defense move. Luke barely had time to admire it before a second man lurched for Abby.
Acting on instinct born from deflecting two older brothers in family brawls, Luke took the assailant down with a punch to the kidney, his other hand grabbing the man’s arm. He twisted until the man bent in two, then he kneed the guy in the face, dropping him unconscious to the floor beside his comrade.
“Get down!” The last man blocked the door they came in, aiming another gun at them.
Zoe pushed Bricker to the floor, covering him with her body as Luke did the same with Abby, palming his weapon out of the holster hidden beneath his tux. Frank slammed into the man from behind and his weapon clattered to the floor. A left hook, followed by a haymaker to the jaw and the guy was out as cold as his partners.
Suddenly, gunfire ripped through the main ballroom across the corridor. The sound of shattering glass and screams filled the air.
“What the hell?” Bricker said, his head peeping up.
Zoe shoved it back down. “Stay still,” she commanded. “Luke?”
“We’re good,” he said, staring into Abby’s eyes. She was frightened, but focused.
A few wait staff scrambled in the slightly open door.
“Everyone down, faces flat on the floor,” yelled a voice beyond the door, the sound coming from the front of the building.
“Get the door shut,” Luke whispered to Castello, who had pulled two more men in tuxedoes inside, Smith and Jones, the two FBI agents Jake had assigned to their operation tonight. Frank nodded and the three of them managed to close the door.
Luke crawled off Abby to join Frank near the door. “What the hell’s going on?” He looked at his cousin who was on her knees next to Bricker. The guy looked a little shaken up, but a whole lot more serious. Apparently, the jet-setting playboy act was gone. “Are those your people?”
Zoe shook her head. “We only brought the two guards at the door. I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Luke focused on the arms-dealer among them. “You got any idea what’s going on?”
The other man’s jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed. “No more than you do. I assume you’re not just Miss Strickland’s bodyguard?”
Pretty obvious assumption on Bricker’s part, considering he, Castello and Smith had all drawn their weapons. A quick glance to his side told him Zoe had confiscated the weapons of their assailants—two handguns, an AK-47, and several army knives. They were starting to come around, and Abby and Special Agent Jones were busy binding them with what looked like scarves from the coats checked by the ball’s attendees.
Zoe gave him the don’t-tell-on-me look they’d shared as kids. Whatever was going on here, it wasn’t involving them or her, no need to blow her cover.
He arched one brow at Bricker and nodded towards Abby. “High profile Senator’s ward. Inaugural Ball?” he said with a shrug. Let the guy think they were undercover for that. “So, if you’re not behind this and we aren’t, that leaves one option.”
“Terrorists,” Castello said.
“We have to get out of here,” one of the waiters said—a young kid, dark hair, panicking eyes, probably working his way through college.
“What’s your name?” Luke asked, staring the kid in the eyes and willing him to calm down.
“Travis.”
“Well, Travis, looks like the bad guys are dressed just like us. So until we have a clue what’s going on, we’re all staying right here. Got it?”
The guy gave him a shaky nod.
Luke turned to the blonde girl with huge, frightened blue eyes next to him. “What’s your name?”
“C…Cassie.”
“We’ll do our best to get you out of here. Okay, Cassie?”
The girl’s head bobbed.
And the third guy, who looked to be a few years older, gave a curt nod. “Name’s Ben.”
“Got it, Ben,” Luke said, then turned back to his team.
“That guy didn’t have a foreign accent,” said Smith, crouched near the door and listening to what was happening out in the hallway.
“So, home grown.” Luke tapped his earbud again. Still nothing. “Internal communications are still down.” He pulled out his cell phone. It had bars. He punched in 9-1-1. Nothing. “Looks like they’re jamming external lines as well.”
“Seemed to happen just as the first guy was forcing Abigail and this guy,” Castello nodded in Bricker’s direction, “in here.”
“Did he say anything to you, Abby?” Luke turned to look at her again.
Ashen, she stared at the man she’d taken out, his face covered in blood.
“Abby?” He moved close. “Do you know him?”
“He’s dead.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He grasped her hand. It was ice cold. “Baby, look at me.”
She did. Her eyes were bleak. “I killed him.”
He drew her up against his chest. “I know, sweetheart. But it was him or you.”
More gunfire. This time, from the hallway outside, and from more than one direction. Startled, Abby clung to him tighter.
Cursing erupted around them and shouting from the halls and the ballroom beyond the doors.
Slowly, Luke eased Abby back. “Are you okay now?”
Her beautiful green eyes had cleared, her panic behind her.
“Zoe, give me one of those guns,” he held out his hand without taking his eyes off Abby. Taking the semi-automatic that they’d gotten from their assailants, he handed his handgun to Abby. “Just in case.”
“Got it,” she said, gripping the weapon.
“Can we get back into the ballroom?” Bricker asked.
Smith peeked out the window in the door. “Lots of bodies running around to the front of the hotel. Little chance of us getting to the other ballroom.”
“Okay, looks like we’re on our own here.” Luke turned to the other door where Jones had taken up his position. “Can you see anything out there?”
The barely-out-of-college agent peeped out the hole meant for the wait staff’s use and shook his head. “Looks like they’re focusing on the main halls, not this side one. A few people running towards the back.”
“We could get out of here while they’re occupied up front,” Bricker said.
“Since we don’t know who or what’s out there, we’re not heading out without a plan,” Luke answered.
“We’re sitting ducks here,” Bricker said, panic edging his voice.
“Better sitting ducks than big-ass moose with painted targets on our rears,” Castello muttered.
The comment got a few snickers from the younger members of their group. Luke shook his head. Leave it to the marshal to break the tension. He turned to Abby. “What’s outside this room?”
She blinked, as if the question startled her, then stared off into space. He knew this look. He’d seen it many times over the past six months. Abby described her ability as if she had snapshots of everything she’d ever seen in her life all stored in filing cabinets in her brain. At the moment she was searching for the right image.
“What’s she doing?” Bricker asked.
“Quiet,” Castello told him. “She needs to concentrate to see the plans.”
“The plans for what?” Zoe asked, studying Abby’s still form in puzzlement.
“The layout of the hotel,” Luke said.
* * * * *
Abby could feel all the conscious occupants of the room’s eyes upon
her. It made her feel like she was standing in front of the blackboard in Sister Compassionatta’s math class again, trying to explain how she knew the answer to the problem without showing one bit of work. Of course, the dead body of a man she’d just killed didn’t lie in the center of the classroom back then.
Shake it off. This is your skill set. Only you can do this, and Luke’s counting on you.
Focusing her brain, she searched the filing cabinet that was her brain for the images she’d filed away for this operation. Quickly, she zipped through the personnel dossiers of the team, the photos and images of people expected to attend the inaugural ball, Bricker in the tabloids and in private meals at his favorite restaurants. Zoe. There. On the sideline. How had she missed her?
Concentrate, Abigail. Sister Compassionatta’s voice sounded in her head.
Hotel plans.
The image popped up in her mind, blocking out everyone around her.
“We’re in the smallest room off the main ballroom. On the other side of that wall,” she pointed to the room to their left, “is another small ballroom like this one, the Renaissance room. Outside that door,” this time she pointed to where Smith was crouched, “is the corridor that leads up front to the left and to the staff food-service hallway to the right. There’re passenger elevators and a set of stairs at the intersection of the two halls that direction. Both the elevators and stairs go up to the roof and down to the ground level. A left turn there takes us to staff service elevators and a maintenance room. There’s another corridor that leads back to the front. Another smaller ballroom, the Caravaggio room, is on that side of the main ballroom.”
She took a moment, concentrating on all the floor plans as she’d seen them laid out for her two days ago. “To the left of us is a smaller press room.” She pointed to the other wall. Up front is the main escalator and stairs down to the lobby level and main hotel entrance.”
Blinking, she put the images back in the mental drawer and focused once more on Luke’s face. And there it was, no incredulous expression that said she was some kind of mutant human. Just sweet acceptance.
All her life she’d been thought of as odd. A misfit. Something to be studied or avoided. Then the one person she thought would delight in torturing her about her odd abilities—Luke-the-golden-boy agent—turned out to be the only person to accept her completely as she was.
Would she ever get used to it?
“The roof’s out,” Zoe was saying. She came to crouch near her and Luke. “Unless you have a helicopter up there waiting to get us out?”
An odd look crossed Luke’s face. Disappointment? He shook his head. “No, that’s not exactly how I planned the rest of my evening going.”
“Then we have to go down.” Zoe turned to Abigail. “What’s below here?”
“We’re not just leaving. People are being shot and we need to figure out who’s behind this,” Luke said, grabbing his cousin’s arm.
“That’s not my problem. He’s.” Zoe pointed at Bricker and at the same time getting right into Luke’s face, “my one and only concern.”
“You’re telling me one playboy is more important than half the government and military personnel in that room?” Luke ground out, pointing in the direction of the main ballroom.
“I can pay you,” Bricker said from where he was crouched.
“Shut up,” Luke and Zoe said simultaneously, glaring at the nervous arms dealer.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, Abigail would have burst out laughing. By the startled looks on the other observers, they would have, too.
“Look,” Zoe said, taking a slow, deep breath as she stared at Luke. “You help me get my client out of here safely and then you can come back in and play super hero all you want.”
Abigail watched the frustration cross Luke’s face. His moral compass was telling him to stay and try to stop whatever was happening in the hotel. At the same time, his duty was to recover the missiles and the only link any of them had to those weapons was currently cowering near the scared waiters beneath numerous long, woolen coats hanging in the makeshift coat-check room.
“Luke, Zoe’s right,” she said, laying one hand on his arm, then staring into his hazel eyes, willing him to understand she was trying to save her cover. “Your job is my bodyguard. My guardian, the senator, will expect you to get me safely out of here, too.”
The muscles in his jaw tensed and she saw him calculating their chances. Finally, after a brief glance at Castello, who gave him a brisk nod, Luke ran his hand over his face. “Okay. We’re going to get out of here, then find some help to bring down these guys, whoever they are.” He winked at her. “Don’t suppose you’ve remembered where you saw that waiter?”
She shuddered, then shook her head, closing her eyes. “It was a rally. But…I can’t focus on him. Not yet. Right now, all I can see is his body.”
“It’s okay. I know you will figure it out.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“So what’s below this level?” Zoe asked again, this time looking at the waiters.
Travis shrugged. “I just know the big elevator in the back takes us down to the kitchen. I was hired to work just for tonight.”
Blonde girl nodded. “Me, too.”
Distant gunfire sounded above them. More shouting, from the hallway up front and distantly in the main ballroom. Most of the activity seemed to be veering away from their location.
“The service elevator goes down to the next level,” Abigail said, once again, repeating what she’d seen in the building’s schematics. “The front half is the main lobby, concierge, gift shop, bar and restaurant areas. The main entrance is out on K Street.” She pointed straight ahead so they’d know which direction that was, then to her left. Sixteenth Street was along this side of the hotel. No exits there, but lots of glass windows.
“There’s two sub-basements. The first one has the kitchen, laundry, and employees’ rooms.”
“There’s an exit there in the employee’s lounge,” Travis spoke up. “It’s how we came in tonight.”
“Think you can get us there once we’re on that level?” Luke asked him.
Zoe grabbed his arm again and getting in his face once more. “You can’t seriously be thinking of taking them with us?”
He shook her off, glaring right back. “If we’re going, then we go as a group. We’re not leaving them behind.”
“Fine,” she bit out, shaking her head.
Abby wanted to smack her. Luke was under enough pressure to get them all out safely without having to justify his decisions to his cousin.
He focused on Travis again. “So, can you get us to that exit?”
The kid nodded. “Yeah, it’s right by the locker room and we know the codes to get in and out.”
“Really. Sounds like lax security to me.” Zoe said, checking the clip of the weapon she was now carrying.
“They change them daily,” Ben said, then shrugged when everyone looked at him, wondering how he knew that. “Been working here about six months. We bring in extra staff for events like this all the time.”
“Okay. We go down and try to get out the staff exit,” Luke said. “Jones, you’ll take point, then me and Abby.” He pointed to the three waiters. “You guys next. Stay close and keep your eyes and ears open, okay?”
They nodded.
“Smith, you stick with the kids. Zoe, you and Mr. Bricker next. Frank?”
“I’ve got your six,” he said.
Luke nodded. “Then let’s move out.”
“What about weapons for us?” the older waiter asked.
“Know how to handle one, Ben?” Luke asked.
“Sergeant in the marines. Two tours in Afghanistan,” the guy replied.
Luke looked at Zoe and tilted his head toward Ben. “Give him the other handgun. You keep the AK.”
As she handed the sidearm to the waiter, the blonde girl gasped and pointed.
They all turned to see what she was pointing at.
The other t
wo terrorists who’d been on the floor had turned beet red.
“Dammit,” Luke said, reaching down to check their pulses. “Both dead.”
“How?” Abigail asked. “They haven’t moved since I tied them up.”
“My guess,” Zoe answered, “Cyanide capsules, hidden in their mouths.”
Another search of the men found gas masks in their vest and jacket pockets.
“Great,” Castello muttered. “Not just terrorists, but nutcase zealots.”
CHAPTER FOUR
They moved out in just the order Luke had given them.
Staying low, Jones, in the lead, eased open the door. They still heard gunfire and shouting coming from areas above and in front of them. More shouting from the main ballroom across the hall.
With a reminder to the others to be quiet, Luke followed Jones out into the corridor.
Two bodies lay on the floor to the left, towards the main staircase. Female waiters. Whoever was behind this, just like a swarm of locusts on a Midwest cornfield, they weren’t leaving anything alive in their wake.
He moved to flank the door opposite Jones and to shield Abby from seeing the bodies the moment they she stepped out into the hallway. She had enough bad visions in her brain without adding these to it.
As soon as she was in the doorway, Jones crossed the hall and pressed his back to the wall. He eased his way up to the corner and peeked around it into the front lobby area. He held up three fingers.
Three bogies were in the front hallway lobby area.
From their vantage point, Luke could see the service elevator. Beside it was a small alcove for the doorway to the stairs at the far end of the hall, just large enough for a body to take cover and still keep a lookout for the enemy. To the left, in the intersection of the hallways, a maid’s service cart stood askew.
With hand signals he indicated for Jones to make for that nook and check out the maid’s cart.
The agent took one more look to his right then sprinted the opposite direction down the open corridor. Stopping at the door to the Renaissance room to be sure no one exited or saw him, he signaled the door was closed before dashing farther down the hall. At the nook beside the elevators, he plastered his body against the wall, taking a brief look up the hallway to his right. He shook his head.