Her hand in her bag, clutching her piece – just in case – Emily walked on high alert, looking straight into the eye of anyone approaching until they’d passed her.
Then Emily thought she caught something. She stopped in the middle of the footpath, only a few buildings into her trek. Moving her head down slightly, she turned her head around a little until her ear was above the back of her shoulder.
Out of the accompanying street noise, a set of footsteps stopped. She turned to scan the sidewalk. The only person who was not currently moving was someone using a pay phone. Emily assumed it was a man by his loose jeans, baggy jumper and a cap he was wearing reversed.
Tightening her grip around her gun, she continued walking towards the corner. The set of footsteps behind her returned. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw a cab approaching. She stepped to the curb and hailed it, and used the opportunity to glance back up the street. The pay phone was vacant and so was the sidewalk. The cab driver didn’t slow down as he went past.
Stamping her foot, Emily threw her arm up in the air at the driver. Glancing over her shoulder, all she saw were busy business people.
The next intersection was only one building away. A group of people on the other side of the intersection were waiting for the signal to cross the road. Emily kept her focus on them and walked faster.
A red scooter was parked on the edge of the footpath. She looked over the handlebars. “Damn,” she whispered. “No keys.”
Picking up the pace, she continued towards the intersection. The footsteps behind her also picked up.
“Don’t be silly. Keep your focus. Not long and you’ll be safe, and this city can return to normality,” she told herself.
The intersection was now within grasp. The group on the opposite side of the intersection was growing. Surely, some of them had to be going up her street.
A black van with heavily tinted windows slowed down and crawled alongside her. Emily pulled her piece up, until it was just below the seam line of her bag. A side door rolled open. Emily walked even quicker.
The van door slid fully open and out jumped its occupant. Emily’s grip tightened on her gun as she felt her other arm being pulled behind her.
Turning around with her gun firmly in her hand, she thumped her attacker with its butt. The grip around her arm loosened.
Her back knee bent, Emily used the momentum of her spin to land in a defensive pose, her leading knee parallel with her toes. Clenching her gun, she pulled her arm back until it was next to her face, keeping the other in front of her body, ready to block any strikes.
In front of her, a man dressed fully in black staggered to his feet. He was only a little taller and more solid than her.
“Come on, get up. You’ve been sent to finish me. Have you not? Then at least try,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Hurry up,” the driver yelled.
Her attacker looked up as he worked on gaining his balance, a drop of blood blooming from the corner of his mouth. Emily’s mind flashed back to the file with all the current personnel. She was certain he was one of them.
She refocused just as he lurched forward and stood her ground, unflinching.
He raised his arm, ready to make his move. His hand was a few centimeters from her face, and Emily was ready. She grabbed his attacking arm and pulled it behind him, and in a swift move she brought him down to his knees, her gun now pressed against his temple.
The man struggled but Emily’s grip tightened.
“You’ll only be warned this once,” Emily yelled, looking between her attacker and the driver. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”
The driver raised his arms, and with a nervous twitch, he nodded.
“You heard me?” She pressed her gun farther into her attacker’s temple.
He managed a small nod.
“I can’t hear you!” Emily now had her attacker’s face pushed against the pavement.
“Y-y-yes.”
She slammed her gun handle into the back of his head. His body went limp.
Standing up, she pointed her gun at the driver. He slowly raised him arms again, looking nervously between her and his colleague, who was now out cold.
A couple of nearby pedestrians screamed, one of them rushing to pull out his phone.
Emily lowered her gun, brushed herself down, and walked away. She looked back at the crowd.
“Nothing to see here, people.”
The group assembled by the intersection remained frozen, looking at her in disbelief. Ignoring them, she turned the corner and tucked her gun away at the small of her back in her jeans waistband.
Chapter 30
This road was a little narrower and quieter than the bustling Collins Street. The center tram lines were replaced with center horizontal parking spaces and the occasional scrawny tree with barely any canopy.
It won’t be long and there’ll be back for another go, Emily thought as she looked around.
Weaving in between traffic, Emily crossed to the other side. Her breathing came heavier now that she walked uphill. She pushed through, reminding herself that it was only five short blocks and she’d be safe.
Tires squealed as a black van drifted around the corner.
Emily was halfway across the intersection, and fully exposed.
“Crap.”
She looked around. The only cover was an automated public toilet in the center island. Emily ran to it and pressed the button frantically to open the door. Peering back down the street, she saw the van was moving slowly, as if its occupants were looking for someone. For her.
The door finally opened and Emily slid in just as the black van slowly drove past her. She leant against the wall, getting her breathing back as the door closed.
The ringing tone on her phone echoed through the toilet.
“Crap.”
She looked at the screen. “Double crap.”
“Lee,” she answered.
“Lee, it’s Schultz. How are you traveling?”
“Ah, on foot.”
“You need back-up?”
“No, I’m fine. Can’t really talk right now.”
“Just checking. We’ve had calls filter through of a crazy woman kicking some butt down on the corner of Collins and Queens.”
“That’ll teach the prick to try and attach me from behind.”
“Be safe.”
“Always. You know me.”
“When you get here, you do know there’ll be paperwork you’ll need to complete.”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Self-defense.”
“Just keep it to a minimal out there. Okay?”
She ended the call. Checking her settings, she ensured her phone was now on silent.
Thump. Thump, thump.
Emily froze.
She could hear someone repeatedly pressing a button. Quietly she drew her gun, cocked it and aimed it at the door.
She pressed the button and the door began to slide open. Emily stood there, poised. Waiting.
Her gun still aimed, she moved towards the side of the open doorway. A startled little old woman stood before her.
Emily raised the index finger of her spare hand to her lips and the woman nodded. Stepping outside, she immediately looked both sides, her gun poised.
No one there.
She moved to the nearest corner of the toilet building. Nothing. Emily walked all the way around the small toilet block before returning to the old lady who’d remained standing there, frozen.
“Sorry.” Emily placed her gun in her rear pants waistband.
The woman didn’t say anything before locking herself in the toilet.
Emily was now alone. She didn’t like this street. It was too exposed and didn’t have enough places to disappear into. But it was the most direct route to Schultz.
Crossing the road, Emily felt her phone vibrate. She ignored it. It rang again. She pulled her phone out and checked the screen. The caller ID was a private number. She disconnected the call. They immed
iately rang back.
“You’re not to call me,” Emily answered, assuming it was Sharon or Harry.
“Why not?” a man’s voice with a thick Chinese accent asked.
“Who is this?” Emily demanded.
“Bank of Victoria. You know it?”
“Depends. Who’s asking?”
“It’s rigged with explosives.”
“Impossible. That building is barricaded. Stop wasting my time.” Emily moved her phone away from her ear.
“Tick Tock. Three hours and counting.”
Emily returned the phone to her ear.
“What do you want?”
“You’re going to pull out of your investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“You know all too well what I’m talking about. It’s littered all over your wall and your table.”
Emily stopped walking, her full attention now on the call.
“You’re causing quite a stir and bringing unwanted attention our way,” the caller continued.
“Just doing my job.”
“But this time you aren’t, are you?”
Emily didn’t reply. This assignment had been disregarded. Management apparently had more important assignments for her to work on.
The caller continued. “If you want to get through the next few hours alive, you’ll hand over to us all of the information you’ve found.”
“I highly doubt it.”
“Behind you is a statue the locals call the bronzed rhythms of metropolis.”
Emily turned around. She couldn’t say she knew what that statue was called, never being one for understanding modern art. But it was a statue of some description.
“That’s right. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“If that’s your taste,” she replied, looking around her.
She couldn’t see anything or anyone that stood out besides a few vans parked in the center of the road. The rear ends of the vans were facing her.
“You’re going to go around to the other side and take a seat.”
“I am, am I?”
“There’s a gun pointed at you.”
Emily looked down and saw a red light pointed at her chest. She looked around, trying to visualize where the line of sight was coming from.
“That’s right,” the caller continued. “When you’re seated you’ll place everything you have on us between the hedge and the statue.”
A few people, mainly men in business suits, walked past, all on their phones, absorbed in their own conversations.
“All the information I have is in the apartment.”
“We both know that’s not correct. We’ve seen your internet activity. Very sneaky but not sneaky enough for my computer guy.” The caller paused. “You’ll walk away. Don’t look behind you. Do not — I repeat, do not — go to the police. We know how to find you.”
The call ended but the red laser light was still pinned on her. With no choice, Emily walked towards the statue. A small circular garden was divided into quarters by hedges stopping at the base of the statue, with low-lying greenery planted between the hedges.
With the red dot still fixed on her, Emily sat down a little farther around than where she was meant to. From here she could see the intersection and the parked vehicles.
Emily assumed by how fixed the mark had been on her that the shooter would have to be positioned in a nearby vehicle.
Rummaging through her bag, her chest still marked, she pulled out a hard drive and placed it near the statue’s base. Taking one last look around, she stood up and continued up Queen Street.
The mark was gone from her chest.
Chapter 31
Emily was now a block and a side alley away from the statue. Away from any direct traffic, Emily made a phone call. A phone call she hoped wasn’t about to bring down one of the tallest buildings in Melbourne.
“Schultz,” he answered on the second ring.
“We have a problem,” Emily replied. “The Bank of Victoria is rigged.”
“Yeah, there’s been some shady business dealings happening there.”
“No. I mean it’s rigged with explosives.”
There was silence on both ends of the line.
Breaking the silence, Schultz asked, “What do you mean?”
“Just had a call. I was ordered, at gunpoint, to leave behind all information I had on the Bank of Victoria, Andrew and the syndicate. I had to leave the hard drive.”
“Did you?”
“What do you think? I had a marksman mark me during the whole ordeal.”
Besides Schultz’s chair squeaking as he rocked back and forth in it, the line was silent.
“How long do we have?” Schultz asked, his tone a lot more concerned.
“You’re staying out of this. They’ve ordered no police. I’m not even meant to be contacting you.”
“We can’t just sit back here and twiddle our thumbs.”
“I’ll think of something. Just hang tight. I’m sure you’ve got plenty to keep you busy.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t involve turning my back on a potential terrorist attack on the city.”
“I’m a couple of blocks away. I’ll be there shortly with the information I have. Promise me something.”
“I don’t know. It’s not usually good when you do this to me.”
“Keep this quiet. Just for the moment. Please,” Emily pleaded.
“I can lose my job over this. You know that, don’t you?”
“You and I can always go and freelance together. I’ll see you soon.”
Emily disconnected the call before Schultz could reply and hightailed it. Only two blocks left. Gun in hand, she began to run.
Approaching the last corner before Schultz’s office, she heard gun shots behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw people screaming and yelling, running for safety in every direction. Emily took protection behind a thick concrete gate post and waited.
Two vans were traveling up the street, one on each side of the road. A white van on the far side and a black van in the lane closest to her.
They were tearing up the street with their bullets.
She quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Schultz’s number. He answered on the first ring.
Gunfire resounding around her, she whispered into her phone, “You may want to get some uniforms out on the corner. NOW.”
Before Schultz could answer, she hung up the phone, and as she put her phone away, she started counting. There was a pause in the gunfire. She turned in their direction and aimed. Her bullet found its mark. The rear shooter fell out onto the street.
The van was almost level with her. She fired at the front passenger window, and it shattered. The van was now level with her. She stared into the gun barrel of the passenger and fired. He fired at the same time, but Emily was already in motion. She ducked behind the cement post. Shards of cement flew past her as the bullet lodged in the post she was hiding behind. Cautiously, she peered around it. The passenger was slumped over the dash.
Emily fired two more shots, this time into the rear tire and fuel tank. Hiding behind her cement barrier, she braced her head. The van exploded. Her body was thrown forward, the explosion echoing through the street.
In the distance, sirens were growing louder. Emily peered around the corner again. The black van was up in flames. Looking up and down both sides of the street, she couldn’t see the white van.
On guard, she entered the street and walked over to the shooter who lay on the ground. Her gun aimed at him, she kicked his gun out of his reach. He lay there, still.
“Stand back,” a feint voice shouted from far away.
Her gun poised at the assumed deceased gunman she glanced towards the shout. Schultz was running towards her.
Her focus returned to the gunman. She looked closer at the face.
“Stand back.” Schultz grabbed her arm and pulled her back.
“It’s them,” she said, still staring at the gunman.
&
nbsp; “How do you know?”
“His record is on this.” She pulled her actual hard drive from her bag and handed it to Schultz.
“I... I don’t understand.” He turned it over in his hand. “I thought—”
“You thought I’d hand over my information so easily?” Her eyebrow rose up. “Really?”
“I shouldn’t ever doubt you.”
“The hard drive I left them contained photos.”
“Do I even want to know what type?”
“Just a hard drive full of unicorns, trolls, fairies and elves.”
“You serious?”
Emily nodded.
“Love it.” Schultz chuckled. “Focus,” he muttered to himself.
“Protect it,” Emily told him. “Bring justice to Harry and his fellow farmers. The corruption brought on by the syndicate and Andrew need to be brought to the public’s attention.”
“I’ll get this forwarded.”
While Schultz was talking with a fellow detective, his back turned to her, she picked up the dead gunman’s gun and checked it. A few bullets left; enough to tide her over. While Schultz was still talking to his colleague, she searched the gunman. She found a few more rounds and snuck them into her pockets.
“Hey, what are you doin’ there?” Schultz interrupted his conversation and turned her way.
Emily stood up. “Just tying up my laces. Don’t want to trip up. The city is a dangerous place today.”
She smiled as his gaze shifted between her and the body, and back to her.
“And you’ve always had that gun?” Schultz’s colleague asked.
“A girl’s gotta be protected.”
“Is it even registered?”
“Promise is a promise. I’ll be in touch,” she yelled out to Schultz as she ran away from the fiery van.
Chapter 32
Emily’s legs were tired and aching, but she was only four blocks from the Bank of Victoria headquarters. Gritting her teeth, she pushed on.
The city was still much the same, modern buildings still replacing the older ones, robbing it of its old-world charm. But one thing that hadn’t changed in the city was the impact the concrete had on everyone’s feet.
The Analyst (Emily Lee Series Book 1) Page 11