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The Analyst (Emily Lee Series Book 1)

Page 2

by K. A. Bragonje


  Emily pulled her niece back. Sophie’s shirt was soaked in blood. Her daughter’s blood. A single shot through her niece’s head and through to her sister’s chest. A pool of blood formed around Sophie’s body. Emily tried to find a pulse. Nothing.

  “Nooooo,” she screamed.

  Emily looked over at her sisters’ body and whispered, “The son of a bitch who did this is gonna pay!”

  She leapt up and picked up her telephone receiver. Dead. Dropping it, she raced to her cell phone. No service.

  Strange, both were working earlier, she thought as she checked her cell phone reception again. Still no signal.

  Unplugging her cell from the charger, she also grabbed her cell phone backup battery and slipped it into her pocket. She looked at her watch. It was mid-morning.

  As fast as she could, Emily took photos of all the paperwork on her wall and dining room table. She flicked through the settings until she came across her backup application. A window box appeared. It read,

  Cannot connect to the Internet

  “Seriously? No phone and no internet. What is going on?”

  Her television began to flicker. Frustrated, she thumped the side of it. It flickered a bit more. “Now you’re going to flip out on me,” she said and banged the television again. The television reception returned to normal signal strength.

  Checking her cell phone again, she noticed her reception was still down.

  “The landlord is going to kill me,” she said, standing in the middle of her living room and taking one last look at her apartment.

  Her eyes fell to her sister and niece. A single tear rolled down her face. Composing herself, she wiped her eyes, smearing her sister’s blood all over her face. On her way out, she grabbed her jacket and bag, checking to ensure her backup charger was in it.

  Running down the narrow, minimally lit corridor, she banged on her next-door neighbor’s door. Emily kept glancing over her shoulder as the deadbolts were being unlocked. A frail Asian woman opened her door.

  “Call the police,” Emily said.

  The woman looked Emily up and down and proceeded to close the door. Emily stopped her. The woman took a step back.

  “Please. My sister and niece have been shot. Someone has fired shots into my apartment.”

  The woman’s eyes rolled sideways before she stared at her feet and shook her head. “No, sorry. I can’t.”

  A single shot was fired and the woman crumpled to the ground.

  “Frick!” Emily took a few steps away staring at her neighbor.

  The woman’s body began to slide back, away from the door. Emily broke into a sprint down the hallway towards the elevators. She fumbled with her phone as she dialed the Police.

  “This call cannot be connected,” an automated response advised on the other end.

  “Damn it.” Emily slid her phone into her jeans pocket.

  A second shot rang out. Emily ducked and felt the bullet whiz past her ear. She turned around. A muscly, shaven headed man stood outside her neighbor’s apartment. His gun pointed at her. The elevator door chimed and the doors opened. Before it was fully open, she threw herself inside the elevator, watching out for its occupant.

  “Quick. Shut the doors,” she yelled, keeping her eyes on the shooter. A scar stretched down the left side of his face.

  The young man she’d narrowly avoided barging into had a backpack hanging over one shoulder and books in the nook of his arm. He stood unmoving near the elevator’s control pad, looking at her before glancing out into the hallway at the armed man, now half way down.

  “Quick,” Emily screamed.

  At long last he repeatedly pressed the close-door button. The shooter raised his gun at her.

  Come on, come on, she thought.

  It felt like the doors were taking forever to close. The shooter aimed and quickened his pace.

  Emily clambered to a side wall and pressed her body up against it, trying to make herself paper-thin. She peered out into the hallway. A bullet bounced off the door. Emily flinched back. The doors closed.

  “Going down?” the young man asked.

  “I’m not going up.”

  “Bit of an eventful morning?” he asked, looking her up and down once again, drawn to her blood-soaked clothes.

  “You mind your own business and I’ll mind mine.”

  “No worries, love. Just making conversation. After all, I did just save your life.”

  “Thank you,” Emily managed to get out to be polite. She cast around her mind for a bit of normality. “What’re you studying?”

  The man looked down at the books cradled in his arm. He blushed. “Ah, just a masters in Cyber Security with an interest in Business Intelligence in the financial sector.”

  “A masters? Get out of here. You look too young to be completing your masters.”

  His face turned a deeper shade of crimson.

  Emily looked up at the digital display. Level three.

  “You enjoying the course?”

  “It’s interesting.” He looked up towards the digital display as well before continuing. “Did you hear about the hostage situation?”

  “Hostage situation?” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “At the bank headquarters.”

  Emily shook her head.

  “It’s not surprising. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

  “How so?” she asked.

  “That bank has been corrupt for a long time. It was only a matter of time.”

  “Only a matter of time for what?”

  “Yeah.” He looked down at her. “The current director is corrupt. He’s obviously ticked off the wrong person today.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  The elevator chimed. “Ground floor,” a recorded voice said over the speaker system. The doors opened.

  “You know more than you’re letting on.” He winked at her and stepped into the lobby.

  Emily grabbed his arm. “I’ve been investigating this man for the last few weeks. Exactly, how corrupt are we talking?”

  “Hey, lady, I’d love to chat to you. But I have to get to Uni.” He pulled his arm from her grip and jogged through the lobby and out the doors.

  Emily looked around. No one unusual here. No one standing around trying not to look too conspicuous. Just busy people going about their everyday life. She pulled her jacket on and cinched it tight around her.

  Stepping outside, she was dazed for a moment, blinded by the sun’s glare. It didn’t take long before she adjusted. The first thing she noticed was that people were running past her, pushing her on their way past, many of them screaming. She turned around. The gunman was standing in the middle of the lobby. His arm extended as he swung the gun around the foyer.

  Emily looked around. At a nearby tram stop she spotted the university student standing at the edge of a growing crowd. His head was bobbing to music. Everyone at the tram stop seemed oblivious to the commotion behind them.

  She looked back into the lobby. He was closer. The gun was now poised at her. She ran across the street, abruptly stopping traffic, not caring about the cars beeping their horns at her.

  “There’s a gunman. Get out of here,” she screamed, waving her arms.

  Some people ignored her.

  An older suited man glanced behind Emily and saw the gunman standing outside the apartment building, gun poised in their direction.

  “We need to get everyone out of here,” she told him.

  “Everyone. There’s a gun.”

  A few turned around and saw the gunman over Emily’s shoulder. Some of them screamed “gun” before running away. Chaos erupted around Emily. People were running every which way.

  The gunman no longer had a clean shot at her.

  Still, a shot rang out. A young suited woman crumpled to the ground.

  Emily looked down the tram line. No tram. She turned on the spot. Lost. Disorientated. Tall buildings on large city blocks surrounded her.

  Chapter 4
r />   Fu crouched behind his newest recruit.

  “Show me what you’ve got,” he whispered.

  The recruit cracked his neck before lining his target up and waited. A scar on the side of his face indicated he wasn’t a stranger to these situations.

  Although they were within easy shot of Tom, Fu didn’t want them to be seen. Not when both recruits were armed.

  No, this had to be quick and clean. There was no room for error. After all, too much was riding on this.

  “Come on,” Fu whispered.

  His recruit turned and glared at Fu. Fu gestured an apology with his hand and sat back a little, but still close enough to be able to see everything. He looked on as his recruit returned his concentration to Tom, lining him up.

  Fu didn’t like this position. He couldn’t see Tom’s target. But this was the first and would likely be the last opportunity to get her. After today, it was going to be a lot harder. They’d have to study her new routines, and too many people would have found out by now that she was back in the country. She would scarcely be alone anymore.

  Fu watched as Tom made the shot, placed his rifle in a bag and stood up. The recruit fired and hit his target. Tom fell over the balcony and disappeared.

  “Unlucky thirteen.” Fu patted the recruit on his back. “Don’t get caught. I’ll be in touch.”

  The recruit packed away his firearm. Still crouching, Fu headed for the door.

  Careful not to touch anything with his hands, he left the room. He casually walked down the corridor to the last door and disappeared into another room.

  Walking into his boardroom, his arms extended, he announced, “Two down.”

  Before him sat thirteen suited people from diverse cultures. Fu received confused looks from some, while others nodded and exchanged smiles with the persons seated on either side of them.

  Around Fu, the room was adorned with various oriental artefacts and paintings, many brought in from all over Asia from acquisitions of one kind or another. Each piece held some form of significance to him. Red drapes lined one side of the room, in sharp contrast with the pitch-black walls.

  Fu took his place at the top of the table.

  “What about the others?” a Middle Eastern man seated to Fu’s right asked.

  “Abdul, they’re being dealt with.” Fu took a sip from a glass of water.

  “We need this investment to go through.” Abdul thumped his fists on the table. His eyes fixed on Fu, he added, “We cannot afford for anything to stop it.”

  “I understand. There’s a lot riding on this transfer. Everyone has something invested in this... arrangement. Andrew,” Fu turned to his left. “Will the transfer be completed on time?”

  Andrew tugged at his tie and cleared his throat before answering. “All paperwork was submitted two days ago. I’ve been ensured this transfer is a high priority. All going well, it should be transferred through to your Corporation by the end of the week.” Andrew shifted in his seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

  “What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Your niece-”

  “Adoptive niece,” Fu corrected him.

  “Okay.” Andrew collected his thoughts before continuing. “Emily. She’s been rather intrusive with her nosey questions. It’s been causing some unnecessary attention. Some of my staff are catching wind and starting to ask questions.”

  “You’ve got a niece poking around?” a man with a heavy Eastern European accent asked.

  Fu lent on his arm, his finger tapping the side of his face, and pondered for a moment.

  He turned to Andrew. “Your staff. They’re for you to keep quiet. As for Emily, she shouldn’t be causing any more problems. Your headquarters. There’s a... situation.”

  “Situation?”

  “Have you not seen the news?”

  “No, I’ve been in meetings all day.”

  “Go on, pull up the news headlines.” Fu gestured for him to look it up.

  Andrew opened his news application on his cell phone. His face dropped.

  “Sharon,” he whispered.

  “That’s right. I wonder how your wife is going to like the headlines tomorrow.”

  Andrew looked at Fu with a confused expression.

  Fu ignored him and addressed everyone else in the room. “Everyone has benefited quite substantially from these acquisitions. I trust you’re satisfied with your new land parcels. The last parcel shall... what do the westerners say? Be the icing on the cake.”

  Everyone chuckled, except for Andrew, who avoided all eye contact and stood up. While still chuckling with everyone, Fu pushed Andrew back into his chair.

  “Now, gentlemen, and lady.” He nodded in the direction of the only woman seated at the opposite end. “If there are no questions, please adjourn to the room next door for some refreshments.”

  Fu remained standing at the head of the table, exchanging nods and pleasantries with the group as they walked past.

  “I hope you’ve been satisfied with the service Bank of Victoria has been able to provide you.” Andrew extended an open hand to Fu.

  He towered over Fu, whose turn it was to shift uncomfortably on his feet.

  Fu looked at his hand and then looked up. “You’ve achieved what was asked of you. For that, we are grateful.”

  Andrew looked at his hand then back to Fu, and with a nervous twitch lowered it.

  “If we can be of any more service...” He lowered his head.

  “That’ll be all. Take this,” Fu reached for an urn sitting behind him. “As a goodwill gesture, for your service to the Corporation.”

  The urn was about thirty centimeters high and had been given to him by a family who’d had it passed down to them through the generations.

  “No, no, I can’t.” Andrew stepped away.

  “I insist.” Fu pushed it into Andrew’s hand. “There are many more where this came from. See yourself out. Be safe out there. It’s not the same world we grew up in.”

  Andrew looked at him with a baffled expression. Fu winked and gave him a crooked smile before closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 5

  In the chaos, Emily heard a male’s voice yell out, “Quick, this way.”

  She was frozen, her eyes glued on the shooter. Next thing, she felt her arm being pulled, and her legs moved, stumbling to keep her upright.

  “We meet again,” she said when she clocked his face.

  “Funny that,” he said, letting her go so he could re-adjust the books under his arm. “Now, less chatter, more running.”

  A bullet hit a metal street sign near Emily’s head. She ducked as she ran along the street. The gunman was still in her line of sight.

  “Come on! We’re sitting ducks here,” the youngster yelled, now a few steps ahead of her.

  Another shot fired; moments later, the shop window next to them shattered.

  “What’s up?” Emily asked, noticing her rescuer had stopped.

  He ignored her, instead grabbing her arm as she caught up to him, his grip tighter. He began running again, his pace quicker than hers. She was struggling to keep up. Her breath sounded hoarse as she fought to get it under control.

  In recent years, her training and fitness had taken a secondary spot to make way for her growing career. In the beginning, it only interfered a little, but it wasn’t long before her career swallowed all her available time and Asian noodle boxes replaced kale and quinoa salads.

  He dragged her into an alleyway, showing no signs of slowing down.

  “Can we stop? Please,” Emily asked a few steps in.

  “Do you want to be killed today?”

  Emily pulled her arm free and bent over, her hands on her hips, gasping for air.

  In between deep breaths, she said, “I need just a minute.”

  “We don’t have a minute.”

  She could still hear the gunman shooting at anyone and everyone. “There’s got to be more than one gunman out there.”

  Carefully, Emily
edged to the mouth of the alleyway and peered back into the street. Dead bodies were everywhere, some on the ground, some slumped over steering wheels or railings. It was carnage.

  People screamed as they scattered out of the gunman’s way. He had his sights on something. Emily pressed her back against the wall and followed his line of sight.

  No. No, he’s not, is he?

  In the gunman’s path, a mother was lying over her child, covering her child’s eyes and ears with her own hands.

  “No,” the mother yelled as the gunman stopped in front of them.

  He raised his gun and the mother stared into his gun barrel.

  The gunman raised his other arm, a little lower than the one aimed at the mother. She huddled over her child a little more, shaking her head at him. Two shots rang out and he lowered both arms as the mother fell onto her child.

  Stunned, Emily edged away from the street and deeper into the alleyway.

  “I didn’t think so. This way,” her rescuer instructed, already on the move.

  She looked over her shoulder, in the direction of the mother and child, before running after her rescuer.

  Chapter 6

  A couple of office doors up from Fu’s boardroom, his newest recruit leant on the door frame as he drew on his cigarette, his ear cocked towards the boardroom while he pretended to unlock the door.

  It won’t be long and I’ll be back in the comfort of isolation. Away from civilization, the local wildlife the only thing keeping me company, he thought as he drew on his cigarette.

  He looked at his watch, then over his shoulder towards the boardroom door. Still alone in the corridor, but he wasn’t sure for how much longer. He’d already been lingering out there for too long. It increased his risk of being caught, being recognized. He liked being a ghost, in and out, no one seeing him.

  He inhaled the last bit of his cigarette before dropping the butt to the floor.

  A door creaked as he snubbed the cigarette out with his shoe.

  The recruit lowered his head and angled it until the boardroom door came into view. It wasn’t long until he saw a man in a business suit trying to wrangle with the door while holding onto a folder and a large oriental urn.

 

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