The Analyst (Emily Lee Series Book 1)
Page 3
The recruit faced his own door handle and pretended to be locking it when he heard the boardroom door latch echo down the hallway.
He counted to ten and turned around. His target in sight, he followed him, closing in on him with each step. Just as he came level, he fell into step with his target.
“Here, let me help you,” the recruit offered as he reached for the urn. “You look like you could do with some help.”
The businessman pulled his shoulder around, trying to block this stranger from grabbing the urn.
“We’re both heading to the same place.” The recruit pointed to the elevator. “Please, let me help.”
The businessman stopped and looked him up and down, deciding whether to hand the urn to him. His gaze stopped at the stranger’s gloved hand.
“Oh, these? They just hide my eczema. It’s not contagious, I’m just conscious of how they appear in public.”
The business man thought for a moment before replying, “Thank you, but only until we get to the elevator.”
“Understood. Just trying to help a neighbor.”
“Oh. No. I don’t live here.”
“My apologies. I’m Fred.” The recruit extended a hand over a friendly smile. “I’m a new resident on this floor, still learning who’s who around here.”
The businessman, flustered, shook his hand. “Andrew. I must admit, you don’t look like a Fred. New to the city?”
They resumed walking down the corridor.
The recruit ignored his comment. Cannot get personal with anyone, let alone my targets, he thought.
“This looks like a nice specimen.” The recruit turned the urn around.
“Don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet.”
“A smart man like you will no doubt find somewhere for it.”
Andrew chuckled.
They approached the elevator and waited for it to reach their level. It didn’t take too long before the elevator chimed and the doors opened.
“After you,” Andrew gestured.
“Uh, no.” The recruit took a couple of steps back and waved his hand in front of him. “You first. I’m taking the stairs. I don’t like those things. You know, claustrophobic and everything.”
Andrew nodded, seeming to understand.
The recruit watched Andrew as he stepped inside the elevator. He placed his folder on the floor in between his legs and pressed a button on the wall. Andrew extended his arms, ready to grab his urn.
The recruit stepped forward.
The doors were closing.
He pulled out his gun. Andrew eyes widened when he saw it pointed at him.
Do not hesitate. This is why we don’t learn names, the recruit thought to himself.
He shot Andrew square in the chest, twice, moments before the doors closed shut. A loud thump came from inside. He assumed it was Andrew falling to the ground.
Standing in the corridor alone, he stared at the closed door, his gun still poised. Listening. The elevator continued to descend. He waited a bit longer. The elevator doors didn’t open.
Somewhat content, he slipped his gun back under his jacket and walked back up the corridor. He was sure someone would’ve opened their door after the incident. But all the doors remained shut. Not a soul cared.
Opening the door to Fu’s boardroom, he looked around. He was alone. Behind the double doors at the other end, he could hear laughter and glasses clanging together.
“So, this is how the rich live?” he whispered.
To his right, along the far wall, a set of closed double doors sat alongside a buffet. In the center of the buffet there was a noticeable gap.
He almost had the urn back in place when an eruption of laughter exploded from the other side of the double doors. He jumped, almost dropping it.
His hands shook as he placed it on the buffet.
Two people on the other side of the door were talking, their voices muffled. He stood there, not moving, watching the door handles.
They moved on.
Letting his breath out, he left the room the same way he found it. Untouched, and not an ounce of evidence he was ever there. Just the way he liked it.
Chapter 7
Bluestone cobbles lined the narrow alleyway.
Emily looked ahead of them. A dead end.
“Umm, we have a problem,” she said in between breaths.
“Do we?”
The youngster stopped opposite an old metal door. Nothing welcoming about it. Emily looked around. No signwriting. No gunman. Just the stench from overflowing trashcans that lined the dark and dank bricked walls.
He opened the door, pulled her inside and locked the door behind them.
Emily placed her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath.
“Come on,” he instructed again.
He was already running down the long, barely lit corridor. Emily sighed, conjured what little energy she had left, and ran after him. Her legs screamed, her heart was racing. She pushed through, gritting her teeth.
When this is over, I need to re-commence my Muay Thai training, she thought as she ran after him.
She didn’t know how far they’d run when she saw him stop underneath a little light that illuminated another door.
“I don’t know what you’re into,” he said to her. “I don’t want to know. What I do know is that you’re not from around here. I’ll get you as far away from that gunman as I can. It’ll buy you some time. Then you’re on your own. Whether you get through today is up to you. Okay?”
Emily tried to talk, but her breathing was still too heavy. She nodded.
He opened the door, and a brightly lit room greeted them.
Chapter 8
Fu slouched in his chair at the head of his boardroom table. His older brother Tao sat to his side.
The curtains were drawn, the only lighting coming from a handful of red lamps placed around the room.
Fu pressed a button under his table and two security guards entered through the main entrance, each man the width of the doorway. In between them, they dragged a scrawny man in his mid to late thirties. His shirt was barely hanging over his shoulders. Blood had soaked into the front and back of his shirt. His head was bowed, all the fight gone out of him.
Fu nodded at the men and they let go of the body, which fell in a heap on the floor.
The man moaned.
“Up,” Fu demanded.
The man kept his head bowed and tried to get up but his body refused to cooperate with him.
A security guard kicked the man in the ribs. The injured man grabbed his side and yelped in pain.
“You got a hearin’ problem? Up. That is, unless you want to take your last breath right there.”
The injured man moaned as he arched his back and moved onto all fours.
“I don’t have all day. On your feet. Now.”
The man staggered onto his feet, the top half of his body swaying. He kept his head bent forward.
“Look at me,” Fu said.
The man slowly raised his head until he was looking into Fu’s eyes.
“Do not ever cross me again. Next time you won’t be given another chance. Clear?”
The man nodded and looked down at his feet.
Fu stared at him with disgust.
He swept his hand towards the door as he said, “Get him out of here.”
A guard placed a black cloth bag over the man’s head before escorting him from the room.
Fu took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly before turning his brother. Tao’s eyes were wide open.
“Well, Tao.” Fu smiled.
His brother returned the strained smile.
“I, I don’t believe...”
“The things I’ve got to do to keep everyone in line? How are we going this month?” Fu asked as he unbuttoned his jacket.
Tao opened his laptop.
“Very good. Even better when we stop being screwed by little punks who think they can outsmart us.”
&n
bsp; “Yes. Well. They’ll never learn.” Fu leant back in his chair.
Tao punched some keys on the laptop and spun it around for Fu to see. A few graphs were displayed on the screen.
“What am I lookin’ at here?”
Tao pointed to the first graph. “This one here-”
“I don’t care what they say.” Fu pushed the laptop back. “How are we going?”
Tao sighed and turned the laptop back around to face him.
“We’re doing really well. We’re on par with our forecasts.”
“On par?”
“Yes.”
“We’re not exceeding?”
“No. Not quite.”
“Any new territories we’ve taken control over?”
Tao closed the laptop and looked at Fu.
“No. The sales from our dealers are down a little.”
“What about the stock going to them?”
Tao paused. Opening up the laptop, he pretended to be looking up the figures. “The stock requests are up, along with the quantities.”
“They’re up! The little shits.” Fu thumped his fists on the table. “When will they fricken’ learn? Do they think we’re stupid or somethin’?”
Tao didn’t reply.
“Right, I need to sort them out. Pull them back into line. Again. This time they’ll learn to stop shortchanging us.”
Fu sat quietly for a while, thinking before he continued. “Some changes need to happen around here.”
“What are you thinking?” Tao asked.
The door opened.
Fu looked up to see the two guards re-enter the room, both wearing clean shirts. They walked around the table until they were standing behind Tao.
Looking up at them and back to Fu, Tao asked, “What’s going on?”
“Changes.” Fu stood up.
“I... I don’t understand.”
Fu continued to walk towards the door. Without turning around, he clicked his fingers and said, “Bring him.
Chapter 9
It took Emily’s eyes a moment to adjust to the brightness. The white light slowly gave way to a department store room. Racks of women’s clothes surrounded her.
“What are we doing in a department store?” Emily asked.
“Here. I think these will fit you.” Her rescuer thrust a handful of clothes into her arms. “Put these on. Your old clothes in this bag.” He handed her a backpack. “Bring this bag back here.”
“I can’t just walk out of here without paying for these.”
She glanced at one tag. A plain t-shirt with a hefty price tag. “I can’t afford these.”
“You’re wasting valuable time. Do you want to draw attention to yourself with all that blood over you?”
Okay, he had a good point there.
“Where are the changing rooms?”
He pointed to the left of the building. Emily followed his gaze. She saw the fitting room sign dangling a few aisles over.
“Grab the one closest to the entrance. Be quick.”
Still in a daze, she navigated the aisles. Looking over her shoulder, she saw her rescuer bob down. She didn’t feel right about any of this. A stranger. Forcing her to shop lift. A gun man attempting to take her life.
Emily looked around the changing room. It was unmanned. She breathed out a sigh of relief and found the closest cubicle, a room set aside for the elderly and disabled. She snipped the door locked and placed the clothes on a chair. Mirrors on three sides of the tiny cubicle greeted her blood-soaked clothes.
Tears rolled down her face as she pulled her blood-soaked shirt off and held it up to her face. She closed her eyes and saw her sister and niece lying there. Alone.
A distant knock made her open her eyes again. She was back in the changing room, clutching her blood-soaked shirt. Emily heard the knock again. Louder, this time. On her door. She snipped it open, slowly.
“You ready yet?” The youngster’s curly red locks appeared through the doorway.
“Give a woman a minute.”
“You’ve got thirty seconds.” He closed the door.
Emily struggled to get dressed, tripping over her own feet.
“Ten seconds,” his muffled voice sounded through the door.
She’d just pulled her last boot on when the door opened.
“Open the other door.”
“Other door?” Emily looked around. “There’s only mirrors in here.”
He shimmied himself inside the cubicle. “That one in front of you. Press it.” He pointed to the right side of the center mirror.
In disbelief, Emily did as she was told.
“What about these sensor things?” Emily lifted a security tag that was fixed to her new shirt.
“Quick.” He gestured for her to step through the secret door and into a dark passage. “I’ll get that sorted shortly. We need to get out of here. Now.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you know your way around here.”
“It’s good to have contacts in this city. Let’s get moving.”
She looked around. They were back in a passage very similar to the one they’d been in only a few moments ago. Shaking her head, she followed him.
“When we step outside that door,” he pointed to a door at the end of the passageway as they walked towards it, “we need to act normal. It’s important we blend in. Okay?”
Emily nodded.
“Now, for those tags,” he said, stopping.
Emily watched him pull something out of his bag. He grabbed the tag on her shirt and placed the device over it. She kept her eyes on the department store door, waiting for guards or police to walk out, their guns pointed at them.
A bit of tugging and the base of the tag came away. Pulling the pinned tag top out from the shirt, he threw both parts into his bag. Her heart racing — they’d been stationary for too long — Emily helped him locate the other tags.
Pulling the last one away, she re-arranged her clothes so they were sitting right. Her shoulders felt a little lighter with the security burden removed.
Despite that, she still had an awful knot in her tummy. She grabbed her stomach.
“You all right?” he asked.
“I’m not too sure about,” she nodded towards their exit, “out there.”
“You’re right. We’re not safe yet. Not by a long shot. Pull your shit together. I can’t have you falling apart on me.”
“Great.” Emily pulled her shoulders back and tried to ignore the knots in her stomach. Putting one foot in front of the other, she walked towards the door that now seemed so far away.
“You ready?” he asked, his hand on the handle.
Emily went to nod but stopped. “Before we go out there... please tell me your name.”
“Is it really that important to you?”
“I’m Emily.” She extended her hand. “Emily Lee.”
“Brian.”
He shook her hand.
“Just Brian? Brian no last name?”
He blushed.
“It’s okay, Brian Chalmers.” She winked at him.
“How did-”
“Come on. Let’s get this show on the road.” She pushed her hand down on his and opened the door.
The hustle and bustle of city life greeted them. Trams were dinging, arrogant drivers were blaring their car horns, and truck brakes were screeching.
“Anyhow...” She looked over her shoulder. Brian was only just stepping through the door. “It’s written on the cover of your folder.”
He pulled the folder around, exposing a personalized name label barely five centimeters by two.
“How could you read that?”
“Come on.” She gave his arm a tug. “Didn’t you say we need to blend in?”
Emily merged with the foot traffic. Brian hurried up to her side.
“So, where are we going?” Emily asked.
“You’re going back to school. University, actually.”
She stopped. People bumped into her, shoving h
er as they tried to get past.
“I’ve done my sentence. I am not going back.” She waved her hands in front of her.
Brian grabbed her arm and pulled her along the footpath. His grip was too strong; she had no choice but to follow.
“I’m beginning to think you want to die today,” he muttered as she kept pace with him.
“Absolutely not. I’ve still got places to see and things to do before I die.”
“At Uni, we’ve got access to a secluded basement-”
“Hey, hang on. We’ve only just met. I’m not ready to go into any basement with you.”
He tightened his grip around her arm. Emily tried to pull away but he didn’t flinch, his grip tightening still.
He continued as if never interrupted, “With computers and high security. We just need to get there. Alive and unnoticed.”
“Why do we need computers? We just need to call the police. I’ve got a friend in the force. He’ll be able to help me. If I don’t make contact, his colleagues will be hunting me down when they assume I killed my sister and niece.”
“Is that how you got that blood on your clothes?”
Emily looked up at him. Her head barely reached his shoulders. He kept looking ahead, and she followed his lead.
“Yes. But I had nothing to do with it. My apartment was attacked.”
“It’s okay. I believe you.”
“You do?”
“I can’t say too much. You don’t know who’s watching.”
He moved his head up only slightly. She followed his gaze. Above them, a security camera was positioned on the side of a building.
Once past it, Brian said, “You’re in deep. Possibly too deep.”
Chapter 10
Fu inhaled the smell of new leather as he leant back into his leather seat. He sat with his back to his driver while a limp and bloodied Tao sat opposite him, propped up by Fu’s two security guards.
As per Fu’s standard travel demands, all the curtains in the passenger area were closed except for the one next to him. He liked being aware of his surroundings at any given time, even if he were seeing it backwards.
Heads turned towards them as they traveled by in his stretch limousine. Nothing new.