Seconds to Sunrise

by Nico Rosso

  James was next, with his smoother accent. “Simon Pandya.”

  Ollie maintained his bright curiosity. “I don’t recognize the names, so I know you don’t have a student here. What is it you need today?”

  She started lying and hoped it would get her where she wanted to go. “We moved into town about three months ago, and we’re interested in enrolling our daughter.”

  “Great.” Ollie clapped his hands together and fished out a binder from under the desk. “If I could get your address, I can see if you’re in our district.”

  “We checked,” James interjected. “And we are.”

  She kept the momentum going. “But what we’re really looking for is to see if your school would be a good fit for Delia.”

  Ollie was game. “Sure. Well, it’s too bad she isn’t here to see firsthand, but I have a few minutes.” He pulled out his cell phone and checked the screen. “And can walk you around.”

  “She’s at home,” April explained, “working on an end-of-semester project to close out her last school.”

  Ollie nodded knowingly. “This time of year, right? We’re all going to need that winter break.” He walked to the side of the counter and lifted a hinged flap so he could join April and James. “Does Delia have any particular interests or activities?”

  James looked to April with the same question in his eyes.

  “Computers,” she answered.

  “Ah.” Ollie deflated slightly. “Truth be told,” he tried to rally, “budgetary concerns in the district have limited our computer literacy classes to just the basics.”

  She clicked her tongue, disappointed. “So coding, 3D modeling and printing, web design...nothing like that?”

  Ollie winced like she was pulling a splinter from his finger. “I wish. I really do.”

  “Here’s the thing.” April turned to make the conversation more private with Ollie. “She’s very computer savvy. Like, scary savvy. We might still put her in your school for all her other classes, and I need to know how good your computer security is.”

  “Oh, it’s very good,” Ollie reassured. Then a thought crossed his face and his brow knit. Was he informed of her phishing attempt? “Do you think she’d get into our servers?”

  “It’s a possibility.” James added his authority.

  April admitted, “She’s been known to find her way in remotely, or even through the hardware.”

  “We refresh our logins regularly, so that shouldn’t be an issue.” Ollie glanced toward the back of the room, where there were two doors, one wood and one metal, with a dead bolt. “And our servers are behind lock and key.”

  The computers in the administration room were attached via Ethernet cables; they didn’t trust Wi-Fi. All those lines ran to a metal conduit that had been retrofitted up one wall, across the ceiling and through a patched hole near the server room door. Her heart sank. This wasn’t the hackers’ main operation.

  She tried to mask her disappointment. “That’s a relief.” Turning to James, she gave him a small shake of the head. He blinked understanding.

  “Especially after what happened in Denver.” James laughed nervously.

  Ollie looked from James to her. “What happened in Denver?”

  “I’m sure we can’t say,” James equivocated. “What with the lawyers and the government involved.”

  Ollie’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  She furthered the mystery. “Why do you think we had to move?”

  “Oh...” Ollie’s smile crumbled. “Let me give you my card, and you can call or email if any other questions crop up.” He tried to sound positive. “We’re looking forward to meeting Delia if you’d like to bring her by sometime.”

  “We’ll be in touch.” James shook his hand and took the card Ollie pulled from his breast pocket.

  April gave him a small wave. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Bower.”

  Once she and James were outside the administration office, she spoke in a low voice. “I’m sure he’s glad to be rid of us.” They walked across the main hall toward the front doors.

  “So this location is a no go?” His accent returned to the rougher one she was used to. He strode with more purpose, too.

  “Just another relay.” Aggravation clouded her thoughts, obscuring what the next step should be.

  James was undeterred and pushed open the front doors. “Back on the hunt.”

  * * *

  Another dead end. He’d have to update Automatik as soon as he and April were back in the car. Maybe his team had come up with a lead they could chase down. Spinning aimlessly would drive him insane. He desperately wanted to put his boot in the face of the hackers who fucked up April’s life.

  At least she was next to him in this mission, proving herself to be quite the asset. “You did brilliantly in there.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled and tugged her coat collar tighter around her as they crossed the street away from the school. “I think it was easier being Yvonne than being me.”

  He rubbed his hand across her back. “It’s all you.”

  “You’re the expert in undercover.” She walked briskly up the block.

  “For that you’ll have to talk to my bloke, Art.” He had tons of respect for the former marine. “The man infiltrated the Russian mob...”

  Menace stilled the air.

  “Whoa.” She kept walking. She didn’t feel it.

  James knew death was coming. Birds and bugs were silent. The nearest traffic was two blocks away. He surged forward and threw his left arm around April, keeping his right free. “Trouble,” he explained before she had a chance to ask. They sped toward the car, but it was fifty yards away. He buzzed with adrenaline, and his awareness spread to assess the landscape. Anything could happen in that distance.

  April tensed next to him, her movement stiff and jerky. He heard her rushed breathing and hated that she had to go through this. Again. It hadn’t been that long since the attack in the parking lot.

  Footsteps echoed. Clothes rustled. James looked back to see a white man pursuing them up the sidewalk. He wore all black. Softshell jacket with a bulge under one arm. But he didn’t have a pistol in his hand. He had a long combat knife.

  James raged that the weapon was there for April. They wouldn’t be able to outrun this fight. The neighborhood was too dense for firearms. He drew his blade and clipped to April, “Watch our backs.” He released his hold on her and turned to face the man.

  She gasped when she saw the attacker. The man looked through James to her, his real target. From the way he held the knife, comfortable, like an extension of his thumb, James knew he was military trained. This was one of the hitters who’d taken out the men from the parking lot.

  The man tried to circle around James to get to April, but James kept himself between her and the aggressor. April’s feet scraped on the sidewalk behind James, reassuring him that she was keeping active and ready to move.

  This man wasn’t there to intimidate or try to get April to quit her search. He didn’t speak or smile. James knew what he was. He’d worked with these men and had been very close to being one himself. A killer.

  He attacked. The first jab with his knife was a test to see how James would react. The man kept his attention on James’s blade, but James responded with minimal tactic to keep his own skills a secret.

  The man swiped again, lunging closer. James let the blow pass, then sliced forward, driving the man back a step. During the dance, a clock spun wildly in James. Another killer was out there somewhere. No one would work alone on a job like this.

  After a feint to one side, the man cut back to the other in a broad swipe. James put up his left arm and let his jacket take the blow. The leather was slashed, but his skin was intact. Before the man gained his balance again, James kicked him on the front of his h
ip and spun him back.

  James pressed the advantage, leading with his knife. The man made a defensive slash to keep James at bay and left his face exposed. James threw a quick jab into his jaw but had to recoil when the attacker’s knife swept back toward him.

  The impact of the punch jarred up James’s arm and his knuckles would be bruised, but goddamn, he’d gladly lose the skin on his hand if it meant beating this man to the ground. The hired killer proceeded with more caution. Hate gleamed in his hard eyes. James had made this personal.

  The man circled. James turned, facing him. He caught a sliver of April in the corner of his eye. She remained poised to run, her burner phone in her hand.

  “Nine-one-one?” She was nearly breathless.

  He threw over his shoulder, “Not yet.” If the police descended, there would be no way to explain everything, including his sidearm. This fight was just a battle in the war against the hackers.

  The next attack came in a flurry. The man swiped with his knife and knocked James in the chest with his elbow when he countered. James lost a breath with the burst of pain. He maintained his footing enough to dodge the next slash as it came back around. The man wasn’t done and kicked into the side of James’s shin.

  His leg threatened to buckle, and he lifted it off the ground to absorb the strike. But he was still off equilibrium and vulnerable. The man took advantage of this with a direct stab toward James’s gut.

  James chopped down with his left hand, caught the man’s wrist and swiped him off line. The blade barely missed James’s hip. The smallest opening had to be exploited. James stabbed toward the inside of the man’s exposed elbow. Before his knife could pierce the attacker, the man grabbed James’s forearm and stalled his momentum. James pivoted quickly and drove his elbow into the man’s temple. Hard bone thudded. The man didn’t let go, and James smacked him again in the same spot.

  What would it take to put this fighter down? The man grimaced and blinked and swung his knife back up toward James. The tip angled up for under James’s chin. He kicked the man in the knee, wrenched his arm from his grip and stabbed him through the jacket and into his right shoulder.

  It was a testament to the man’s experience and training that he barely made a noise. Just a strained grunt. He’d been stabbed before. So had James. He knew that first wet panic of blood when the wound was fresh and he couldn’t tell if it would kill him or not. The gash he put in the man wouldn’t put the killer in a grave, but it would slow him down.

  “Another one!” April called out behind him.

  He put the sole of his boot on the first attacker’s chest and kicked him off the sidewalk and into the street, freeing James’s knife. April shifted her stance, giving James a read on the next assailant’s position. The second man crashed through a hedge between tall apartment buildings. He was a blur. The only details James could make out were the olive-green military jacket and the black knife in his hand.

  Green Jacket went straight for April, leading with the knife. She scrambled away and dodged where the man in black was still collecting himself. James kicked into the legs of Green Jacket to slow him. The man rolled quickly and lunged at April. James jumped at the man, crashing his shoulder into his and throwing him off target.

  They tumbled and scraped on the ground. James got his legs under him and crouched, knife ready for the next strike. Green Jacket gathered himself and stood.

  James’s blood iced with shock. His breath locked and his limbs shook. Before him was Hathaway.

  “Bloody fucking hell.” His old sergeant and mercenary partner recognized James as well. Two years had aged Hathaway further. More time in the sun, more pints between gigs. His stubble was salt and pepper, same as his close-cropped hair. Teeth yellow from cigarettes of all nationalities. Hathaway’s squinting eyes flicked between James and April. He spoke in his thick Northern accent. “Don’t mess with this, James.”

  James brought himself to full height. “It’s best you disappear, Sergeant.” But he’d never let him go. Once April was safe, James would dedicate himself to making Hathaway pay for coming after her.

  She remained on the edge of the action, phone in hand. The Man in Black stepped off the street and onto the sidewalk. He stood and transferred his knife to his left hand and clutched his right arm to his chest. April moved closer to James. They were bracketed by the two men.

  Hathaway kept his knife at the ready, but held out his other palm as if making peace. “I don’t know what those other wankers are paying you, but I can double it. Or more.” He smiled, showing off those teeth. “You know I’m good for it and I’ve got other jobs lined up.”

  “Take the other jobs,” James told him. “Leave this one.”

  Hathaway shook his head. “You know I never quit until I’m finished.”

  James stared him down and anger burned his words black. “I will finish you.”

  Hathaway laughed. James didn’t.

  “Ohhh,” Hathaway continued to wheeze a chuckle. “It’s personal.” His jacket was open. James knew he’d be carrying at least one 9mm under it. And a revolver on his ankle. Lunging at him would expose April to the Man in Black. But staying at this distance only gave Hathaway and his partner the advantage. Rage churned in James.

  A miniature voice came from a speaker at James’s side. Without looking at her phone, April had dialed 911, and the female operator asked again and again what the emergency was. She’d learn soon enough.

  He faked toward Hathaway with his blade. Hathaway recoiled and switched his knife to his left hand, surely so he could draw his pistol. But James was already spinning to counter the attack the Man in Black launched.

  That man’s knife stabbed toward April, and she bent out of the way. James chilled, seeing the steel threaten April. He wanted to kill but took the closest opportunity and slashed into the back of the man’s hand. Skin and tendons split. This time, the man screamed out. James continued his offensive with a chop to the man’s throat. The Man in Black’s knife fell from his hand, and James caught it.

  “Run,” he commanded April. She took off in the direction of the car as Hathaway was just pulling his automatic. The escalation in lethality ramped up James’s pulse. He threw the Man in Black’s knife at Hathaway. The mercenary flinched to the side, so it only tore a line in the shoulder of his coat. But it slowed him taking aim and made him scurry for cover behind a short cinderblock wall.

  James sheathed his knife and sped after April on legs charged to run. He zipped open his jacket and drew his pistol. The buildings around could be populated. The school wasn’t that far off. An errant bullet would be devastating. He saw Hathaway brace himself against the wall, gun extended. April was the target. James suppressed his rage to steady his hand and fired first. The bullet slapped into the wall with a spray of brick chips.

  Hathaway ducked for cover, giving James time to fish out his car keys. He caught up with April. Terror widened her eyes, but she hadn’t succumbed to complete panic.

  He pressed the keys into her hand as they ran. “You drive.”

  She nodded, more focused. He looked back to see Hathaway peek quickly up from the wall. Imminent danger pushed quick urgency through James. He veered April off the sidewalk and between parked cars into the street. When Hathaway broke cover again, he was aiming where James and April used to be. He swung his gun around toward them. James fired at the same time Hathaway did at them.

  The rear window of a parked car exploded. April yelped in fear and ducked. James hunched over her and kept them both moving. “Are you hit?” The shot shouldn’t have reached her, but physics weren’t always predictable on the battlefield.

  “No...no...” she rasped.

  The car was only a few yards away. From their crouch, he couldn’t see where Hathaway or the other man were. The sound of shots surely brought attention, and April’s phone was probably still li
ve. The police would arrive soon. He and April had to be long gone by then.

  She unlocked the car from a few feet away; they both threw open the left-hand side doors. She pulled herself into the driver’s seat and started the engine. He dove into the backseat and left the door open so he could lie below the window level and cover their retreat. The engine screamed as she stood on the gas, screeching tires carrying them away as fast as they could. He leaned out of the car and saw Hathaway rush into the street, gun at the ready.

  James sent a bullet toward him, but Hathaway was already ducking out of the way. A parked car absorbed the attack with the sound of tearing metal. Hathaway stuck his gun out from his hiding place and started spraying blindly. Bullets skipped over the asphalt and blew car tires. James maintained a steady breath, despite his body wanting to scatter in panic. Any one of those rounds could hit him and April.

  She gritted out, “Hold on,” and turned the car hard to the right. He braced himself with one hand on the seat and jammed his elbow against the open door to keep it from smashing his head. They swerved off the street Hathaway shot along and he couldn’t get to them.

  James sat up and closed the door, keeping the gun in his hand. He found April’s phone on the passenger seat and hung up the call with 911 before asking her, “Are you alright?”

  “I don’t know.” Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, and she didn’t take her eyes off the road. “Are you?”

  “Yes.” No. He was uninjured, but felt like every scar on his body had opened up and oozed life out of it. “Ease off the accelerator, get us to the highway.”

  She slowed the car to a civilian pace. “I’m not sure how to get there,” she stammered.

  He watched their rear and saw no sign of pursuit. Fear and danger still rushed in his blood. He forced himself to recall the map. “Left at the next big street. Then a right two blocks later. That should take us to the highway.”

  Sirens swirled through the city, but there were no signs of the police yet. A helicopter sped toward the area from the south.

  “Then what?” she asked. Her voice was tight, like she was close to breaking.