“If we want to go, we must let them move closer.”
“Yeah, but in the meantime the first men will attack us.”
“So we’ll defend ourselves.” Mike returned his eyes to her; she hadn’t moved from the floor. “We are three. We can keep five of them occupied for a while.”
Amelia was staring right back at him, struggling not to whimper. If she could be useful, he would keep her alive.
“What the fuck are you saying? You can’t trust her!” Now it was Yasir who was shouting.
“Why not? She’s a police officer, she can use weapons. And she’s clever enough to understand that, if she wants to get out from this situation alive, she must do what we tell her. Am I right, Amelia?” Mike didn’t wait for an answer from her. He gestured to his friend with his head. “Give her a gun.”
The latter watched him, hesitant, shook his head in disapproval, but then capitulated and headed for the other room.
Mike approached Amelia and offered her a hand. “The phone, please.”
She touched her sweater. She had put it in a pocket during the way back to the lodge. The big antenna peeked out. She took and handed it to him.
He bent down and seized her wrist so as to force her to stand up. He drew her to him. The lines of his face were more relaxed, he seemed calmer now, almost like the old Mike. He took the mobile phone with the other hand and inserted it in the back pocket of his trousers. “It’ll be over soon.” His voice had softened. He was looking her in the eye. “And then you’ll be able to return to your policewoman life. You won’t see me anymore.”
She wanted to believe him. But realising that she wouldn’t die, at least not by his hand, for some reason didn’t comfort her. Before listening to that conversation between him and Yasir she had started to get her hopes up. She knew that what had happened between them was the result of that particular situation and that he would leave her life anyway. Yet now that he’d said that to her loud and clear, although he was revealing a different person from the romantic image of secret agent she had built in her fantasies, his words made feel her deluded, abandoned, sad.
A tear rolled down her cheek. Mike raised his other hand and placed it on her face, collecting the drop with his thumb. A slight smile took form on his mouth. “You really pissed me off.” He inserted his fingers in her hair. Then he released her wrist and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”
Confused by that unexpected change, Amelia remained motionless. She wanted with all her heart to believe she hadn’t ended up in the hands of a psychopath. Then she half-closed her eyelids and leant her head on his shoulder, raising her arms to hold him, too.
A fake cough revealed that Yasir had come back to the room.
Mike released her and lingered, looking at her face, as if he wanted to make sure she was fine. He arranged her hair behind her ears with a caring gesture, then he turned to his friend, who offered him a gun. He took it and put it in Amelia’s hands.
The Middle Eastern man brought one too, fitted into the belt of his trousers.
She resolved to stop looking at Mike and instead she checked the weapon, as she had done so a thousand times before. She unlocked the magazine and extracted it. All the bullets were there. She inserted it again with an automatic gesture, then she clasped her weapon, resolute. She extended her arm beside her body, so as to aim it at the floor. She was feeling much better. She was still in the company with two criminals, but they had entrusted her with a charged weapon and neither of them was pointing one at her.
Yasir took out his own gun and gave it to Mike. Then he returned to the other room and threw the visor from the table towards him.
“Give me another one,” the latter said as he seized it on the fly, then handed the device to Amelia.
Those manoeuvres left her perplexed. He had come to look for her completely unarmed. He had taken an enormous risk. Why? Was it because of haste? She had expected more cold-headedness and care from him. What had made him so imprudent? The dread that she let them be discovered or that she could be killed? A little part of her dared to hope the reason was the latter. How silly she was. Perhaps he had just lost his temper. After all she didn’t know him at all, she had seen him tranquil until a few hours earlier, but then he’d changed all at once, had become another person, almost unrecognisable.
The other man snorted again, but did as he was told without further complaint.
She examined her visor with curiosity. She had never seen one so close, still less worn one. She would learn something new today, something else new. Provided that she survived to put into practice these precious lessons in the field. But what would her field be after this day? Her life had come to another breaking point, and again she was unable to figure out where that would lead her. Only that this time she didn’t care.
A noise attracted her gaze to Yasir, who was shouldering a precision rifle.
“Good,” Mike said, moving his attention from the other man to her. “Let’s get ready.”
Sitting on the floor under one of the front windows of the lodge, in the dark, Amelia had started stroking her new gun with slow gestures. She hadn’t let it go since it had been assigned to her. She clung to it, as she could draw some strength from it, as if just that contact sufficed to keep her safe. It was just an illusion, like the quietness. Her infrared visor was lying on her leg, and the sleeves of her sweater were rolled up. With the passing of time she’d started feeling hot, and sweating.
Mike was beside her with his legs crossed, checking the real-time footage coming from the infrared cameras installed outdoors on his tablet, whose display was the only source of illumination in the room. In silence, she was observing his facial features, whilst her nail was fiddling with the safety of her weapon. Lit from below by that diffused glare, he seemed pale. She could see his eyes moving fast, and then focusing in one spot. After that, he ran his finger on the touch screen and repeated the ritual. His gun, visor, and mobile phone were beside him on the parquet, together with two spare magazines. It seemed as if he didn’t need any reassurance. Amelia wondered what was going on in his head. Was he concentrating on the strategy? Or from time to time did he let himself be distracted by the dread? Perhaps he knew no fear, or maybe he’d learnt so well to keep it at bay that now he didn’t know how to find it again.
It was odd that she tried to enter the mind of a man like him. What he was, what she thought he was, would have been contrary to her most unshakable resolutions up until a few weeks earlier. Inconceivable.
How things changed. In a few weeks, in an hour, in a second.
On the opposite side of the lodge, in the secret room, which wasn’t secret anymore, Yasir replicated his friend’s gestures, with the only difference that he was keeping a rifle beside him.
“Won’t they see us in here?” The absence of a perceivable reaction from Mike made Amelia think that he hadn’t heard her at first. Or he was ignoring her. He had become so fickle, after their quarrel, that she didn’t know how to behave with him. But she didn’t intend keeping quiet. She couldn’t. “I mean, they’ll see the heat of our bodies, well, I suppose that they have some thermal detection devices, too.” Now she was blabbering and the fact that nobody replied to her made her feel inadequate. She started stroking her weapon even harder.
His gaze rose. “I’ve turned on the heating.”
“Hm?” This explained the increase in room temperature, but didn’t clarify how that would help them hide.
“There’s a circuit in the floor where hot water flows, but some pipes run also in a few spots on the walls, heating them.” He tapped the wall at his left. “Like under the windows and in more zones of the house. The temperature exceeds body temperature; by staying here we’re practically invisible.”
“Ah … astute.” What a banal remark. “This … hm … occultation system will consume a lot of energy.” The idea of not being a target relaxed the muscles of her hand and made her stop her continuous motion. “I doubt this place is connected to the electri
city network.”
“I have an electrical generator in the basement, which is acoustically insulated, with enough fuel to give us energy and heating for days.” Mike paused; he was almost laughing. “Enough until the moment they find a way to cut our electricity, then whatever happens it will be very fast anyway.”
Amelia’s muscles tensed again. She looked at him. He had returned to his tablet and didn’t seem to give off any real worry. She had to trust him. He knew what he was doing. She decided it was so. It was better than thinking the opposite. “But this way, the entire house will light up like a Christmas tree. Why make it easier for them?”
“They will find us anyway sooner or later. Our purpose is to make them come closer and put an end to this story once and for all.”
She gaped. He wanted the confrontation, but they were only three against who knew how many. No, there had to be more than this. “Would you please tell me about our plan?”
“You just have to do what I say and shut up,” he said, icy, persisting in his indifference. “This is your part in the plan.”
Amelia raised her gun, but before she could complete her movement, Mike grabbed his own gun and aimed at her. They both found themselves at gunpoint. “I could shoot you at any moment,” she said. “As soon as you have your back to me.”
“That’s the difference between you and me.” He kept holding his gun firmly against her, but the rest of him was relaxed. “You would never do that, while I would. And I wouldn’t need to take you by surprise.” He lowered his weapon and returned to what he’d been doing, ignoring Amelia’s menaces.
She gave up and laid again her armed hand on her thigh. She would never shoot him. She was feeling stupid, and hurt, but that wasn’t enough to transform her into a murderer. “I’ve understood who you really are,” she murmured.
He cast a cautious glance at her. “I don’t think so.”
“It is so.” She rolled her eyes, making fun of him, even though she wasn’t sure he could see her well in the face. “I’m … almost certain.”
He let out an amused half-grunt. “As you wish.” And then he turned again to the damned tablet.
But she wanted to continue the conversation. She didn’t know for how long she would have a gun in her hand, nor if she would survive afterwards. She wanted to understand anyway. “The only thing I can’t comprehend is what you were doing in Goldberg’s waiting room.”
“The same as you, more or less.”
“No …” Amelia gestured, stirring the air with her weapon. “This is bullshit. You lied to me then and you’re still lying to me. You weren’t there for a job interview, or for infiltrating the firm on behalf of some intelligence agency. But it looked like you really had an appointment.”
“I don’t have time to waste on chatting with you now, detective.” He tapped the display again and refocused on it. “Ah, no, right: you’re just a simple officer.” He smiled under his breath.
“Goldberg had locked himself inside his panic room,” Amelia continued, overlooking his attempt to diminish her. “Do you think he did it before or after the beginning of the shooting?”
Mike’s eyes snapped towards her.
“Goldberg wasn’t the target, you were.” She pointed at him with the gun. “I’m just the loser who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.” She spread her arms, laughing at herself. “And I still am.”
“I can see three of them here.” Yasir drew their attention, interrupting their conversation. “Now that you’re so close, your shielding is useless, isn’t it?”
Mike started looking for something on the tablet screen. Amelia approached him. Now she could understand what the Middle Eastern man had meant before. You couldn’t see entire silhouettes, but just a set of bright fragments. However, if they were observed together, their sum came together to outline a human figure. They really were like ghosts.
“Where are the others?” he said, letting a sudden nervousness show. That tone caused her a faint anguish. Yeah, where were the others?
“They’re studying the building. They can see it all lit up and they’re confused, the bastards.” Yasir seemed to be having fun, but that useless mocking of the men out there sounded all but carefree.
“The other two, where the fuck are the other two?” Mike exclaimed, in a frustrated tone, which attenuated the other man’s enthusiasm in a moment.
“I can’t see them anymore … what …” Yasir hesitated. “Fuck, here they are, they’re on the back. I’m afraid …”
Red writing started blinking on Mike’s tablet: ‘Power Supply Failure’. “They’ve just cut the wires.” Strangely that awareness seemed to calm him down.
However the cameras were still broadcasting. The wireless network had to be supplied by something else. Perhaps batteries.
“One moment, I see two more on the back,” the Middle Eastern man continued.
Seven versus three. They couldn’t make it. Amelia felt her throat narrowing in anguish. Maybe those two were so accustomed to risking their lives that they had accepted the eventuality of death a long time since, and nothing unsettled them now, but that didn’t apply to her.
“They’re starting to be too many.” That one of Mike’s had been a simple observation. “I’d really like to know if the others are all within the perimeter.” He laid his tablet on the floor, then he put his visor on his head, but not on his eyes. He inserted the two magazines in his pockets and grabbed his gun. Passing in front of her, he leapt under the window on the other side of the door.
“If the heating doesn’t work, will they see us?” Amelia asked, struggling to contain her terror.
“The water will take a while to cool down.” Mike lowered his visor onto his eyes and reached out to the end of the shutter with his fingers. “It’s a moist night, but warm, without wind, we still have time.”
What was he doing?
He opened the shutter and pushed it. The impact on the wall made her start. He repeated the operation with the other shutter. Then he rose as much as necessary to see through the pane. Yasir was doing the same on the window in the adjacent room. “Do you see someone?” the former asked.
“Hm.” Yasir shook his head. “Nothing. They’ve scattered. Anyway there weren’t more than two over there, so there could still be more too far … Fuck!” He bent down. A gunshot sounded and the glass in front of him blew apart.
Mike copied his friend and hit the floor. “Are you all right?”
“I hadn’t seen him, fuck!” Yasir took out his visor and shouldered his rifle. He rose, watching through the gun sight, and shot. Another gunshot from outside and he crouched down, as a bullet hit the wood-covered wall, causing a dull sound. “Son of a bitch! It’s right in front of us.”
“Is he alone?”
“I don’t know!”
“I’ll cover you.” Mike opened his window wide. He rose and started shooting.
The other man stood up, aimed his rifle without hurry, and shot only once. “Gotcha.” They both bent down as one.
“One less.” Mike shifted his visor on his brow and turned to her. “Now they know we are on the front.” He seized his tablet again and checked it. “And in fact, they’re moving to the back; they want to surprise us from behind.” He raised his gaze again, a sly smile on his face. “But they think we are two, and instead we’re three.” Keeping low, with his tablet on his left hand and his gun on the right, he started crossing the room, towards the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” Amelia exclaimed, barely restraining herself from following him.
“Open your window.” Mike was squatting against the wall beside the door. “And keep ready to shoot covering fire, when Yasir tells you so.”
“But won’t they see you there?” She was more worried about his safety than her own tactical role.
“Another hot spot,” the dark silhouette replied. “I said: open the fucking window.”
With reluctance Amelia laid down her weapon and went down on her knees. Sh
e grabbed the edges of the shutters and opened them wide. The window frames, which were left ajar, partially followed the movement of the former. She completed the opening with a couple of shoves.
“Forget what you’ve learnt in the police. No prisoners here. If you shoot someone, you must kill them.”
There was no need to say that. Amelia took the gun again, but remained kneeling.
“And aim at their head, they’re wearing bulletproof vests.”
“Understood …” she said in a low voice, while putting on her infrared visor.
Several seconds of silence followed. The humid air from outside, pregnant with the smell of leaves and wet soil, spread inside the lodge. It started to be less hot and, although the fresh sensation was pleasant, Amelia knew it wasn’t good news. The men out there could be waiting until they were able to detect them and finish them up. Or they could set fire to the entire house and have them die like mice.
“There are two of them approaching here,” Yasir said. “Keep ready to shoot on my command.”
“We’re about to get a visit here, too,” Mike’s voice replied in the darkness.
“Now!” the former said.
Amelia stopped thinking; pretending that everything around her had ceased, she rose, aimed the weapon at the dark of the night and started pulling the trigger.
Yasir rose as well. A concert of shots filled the silence in a moment. Flashes of light, glares, shouts. She saw one of the figures out there collapse. But a third one appeared from nowhere, as if it had been generated by the wood.
“Argh!” Yasir shouted.
Amelia let herself fall down and turned to him, stripping the visor off her eyes. The man was lying on the floor and holding his shoulder.
A movement, intercepted on the left with the corner of her eye, a reflection. She turned. A figure was standing at the bedroom door and was pointing a gun. A flash accompanied by a gunshot and the figure ended up on the ground, replaced by Mike.
Another one appeared right after, jumping on him. They ended up on the floor, nothing more than two fighting silhouettes, from time to time illuminated by the glare of an accidental shot.
Kindred Intentions Page 9