Julie took a step back, looking at him. She raised her eyebrows.
“What?” he asked, seeing the expression on her face and feeling suddenly self-conscious.
She smiled. “See for yourself,” she said, nodding to the mirror mounted on the wall over the sink.
Jericho stood and took a deep breath, turning to face the mirror and ducking slightly so he could see his face. The first thing he noticed was the laceration across his forehead, roughly six inches long. It was a thin, dark line, with small, neat stitching running the length of it. He knew that beneath the surface was a metal plate essentially holding his skull together. That in itself was a lot for anyone to wrap their head around.
Then he looked at his left eye. It wasn’t brown, like it used to be. It was a light blue. He covered his right eye with his hand, just to be sure. He could see perfectly, although it felt slightly sensitive in the light.
“Are you okay?” asked Julie.
“It’s fucking weird,” he said, shaking his head. “But yeah, I can see fine. They could’ve made it the same as my right though...” He pressed and prodded around his eye socket with absent curiosity.
“I don’t know the intricacies of growing eyeballs, but at least it’s a nice color.” She smiled at him, which he returned. “Just go easy until it properly adjusts. Maybe wear some sunglasses when you’re outside for the time being, okay? We’ll pick some up on our way out of town,” she said, walking out of the bathroom.
Jericho frowned and followed her, pausing in the doorway and leaning on the frame. “Our way out of town?”
She turned to face him, standing in front of the bed and folding her arms across her chest. She shrugged. “Well, I figure you’ll need someone close by should that stitching re-open. Besides, I don’t think there’s anything left for me at GlobaTech now. Even if I go back, they’ll fire me—or arrest me, whatever—for helping you escape.”
Jericho smiled, but didn’t get a chance to reply. The door to their room suddenly flew open, causing a loud bang as it slammed against the wall. Reacting in a split second, Jericho pushed Julie backward, and she bounced off the bed and landed on the opposite side, on the floor in front of the window.
“Stay down!” he yelled, turning to confront whoever kicked the door in.
Three men, dressed head to toe in black, rushed into the room, single file. Jericho’s military instincts took over. He quickly assessed the threat. They were all armed with silenced handguns. Their movements were sharp, which indicated they were well trained.
He didn’t need to know anything else.
He stepped toward the man in front, grabbing him by the throat with his left hand. He jabbed him hard twice in the side with his right—both blows finding the kidney, as intended. The man grunted from the impact, dropping his weapon. Jericho pushed it away, toward Julie, with his left foot as he slammed an elbow into the man’s left temple, knocking him out cold.
The part of the room near the door was quite narrow, and opened out behind Jericho to where the bed was. He wanted to keep his body between the intruders and Julie, but he was limiting the space he had to fight in as a result.
Keeping hold of the first guy, he put both hands on his chest and thrust him into the other two, momentarily knocking them off guard. Knowing he wouldn’t have time to get the gun from over by the bed, he dropped his right shoulder and charged them, forcing them both out of the room. He lost his footing as he collided with them, sprawling to the floor. As he stood back up in the corridor outside, he found himself in the middle of them. Each one had their weapon aimed at his chest.
“Jericho, we will shoot you if you don’t cooperate,” said the one on his left.
He didn’t respond. He looked back and forth between them. Each had their gun roughly three feet from him. One step in either direction, and they’d be within reach. He knew he had to act quickly.
He opted for the man on his left, who spoke, figuring he was the more senior. He stepped toward him quickly, grabbing the outstretched arm with his right hand and spinning his body so he stood in front of the guy with his back to him, facing the remaining man in black. Using both hands, he controlled the gun, firing twice and hitting the other man in the chest, causing him to flail backward and land awkwardly on the floor.
He quickly snapped the wrist he was holding, and then reached behind him and hooked his right arm under the guy’s armpit, hoisting him up and over, slamming him down to the floor in front of him. Jericho crouched down, quickly retrieving the gun, and fired twice, hitting the man with both rounds at close range in the chest.
He stood and rushed back into the hotel room, putting a bullet in the first man’s head without looking as he passed him. He dropped the gun on the bed and moved toward Julie, who was standing, rigid with shock, by the window. He placed both hands on her shoulders, leaning down to look at her.
“Julie, we have to get out of here right now, do you understand?” he said.
His voice distracted her from her distant staring, and she looked him in the eye and nodded. He bent down, picking up the first gun and handed it to her.
“Take this,” he said, clicking the safety on. “Just put it under your sweater ‘til we reach the car.”
He picked the gun up off the bed as he walked past, heading out of the door without hesitation. He held the gun out in front of him in his right hand, cupping it with his left for steadiness. He aimed it straight ahead, keeping it pointing in the direction he was looking.
“Come on,” he called behind him. “Stay close.”
Julie appeared next to him, holding the gun in both hands by the barrel, like a baseball bat. Jericho noticed it, but said nothing. If that’s how she felt comfortable holding it, so be it. It wasn’t going to go off and, in the interest of time, it ultimately didn’t matter. They just needed to get out of there, and fast.
They made it to the elevator at the end of the hall and stepped inside. Less than a minute later, they walked out into the lobby. They went left, eager to avoid any security cameras as they ran past the mini bar and out the service entrance to the parking lot at the back.
They stepped outside, hit by a light breeze that masked the deceptive heat of the early sun. Just ahead of them was the stolen sedan that had brought them there. And it was surrounded by six men, dressed in the same black outfits as the three Jericho had taken out in the room.
“Oh my God!” screamed Julie, as the men saw them and took aim, fanning out to form a semi-circle—three on either side of the car.
Jericho clenched his jaw muscles with a mixture of anger and frustration, flicking his aim to each of the men in turn. His breathing was steady and deliberate; his brain was working hard to figure a way out of what appeared to be, on the surface, an impossible situation.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared in front of him, followed by a wave of intense pain that hit the center of his head, behind his eyes. He grimaced and staggered back, disoriented. He dropped his gun and, clutching the left side of his face, sank to his knees. He felt a hand on his shoulder, which startled him.
“Jericho, are you alright?” asked Julie. “What’s happening?”
“Fuck! I don’t know…” he replied through gritted teeth. “My left eye…”
He had his left hand clamped over it, and he looked up at Julie with his right. She looked… different, somehow. Calmer, more disciplined. And also frustrated, he thought. He frowned at her change in demeanor, momentarily distracted from the pain in his head.
“Shit…” she muttered.
Before he could say anything, one of the men by the car shouted over. “Both of you, on your knees; hands where I can see them. We’ve been ordered to bring you in.”
Julie looked down at Jericho, tilting her head slightly. Jericho recognized the look immediately—an unspoken plea for forgiveness.
Jericho shook his head; he didn’t understand.
“Just stay here,” she said to him. “Your eye’s reacting to the influx of sunlight. K
eep it covered.”
Without another word, she stood; tossing the gun she was holding into the air and catching it again in her hand by the butt. She flicked the safety off, chambered a round, took aim and started firing. She ducked low, moving forward and scooping Jericho’s handgun up as she went. She continued her shocking onslaught, taking out three of the six men with the first few rounds.
The remaining three dove for cover, but she seemed to anticipate their movements. She aimed both guns to the right and fired, catching one of the men as he moved away to the side; both barrels hit him in the face. He stopped dead in his tracks, dropping to the floor and skidding to a lifeless stop.
The final two men had emptied their clips, but inexplicably hit nothing. Julie ran at them, throwing both guns away to the sides as she approached them. At full speed, she charged at the man farthest to her left, using her right foot to step on his thigh. She ran up his body, pushing off first with her foot, and then with her knee on his shoulder, to elevate her into the air. She moved her arm so the point of her elbow was positioned above his head, and then slammed it down on the center of his skull. He crumpled to the floor, and she landed on top of him, straddling his chest.
In a flash, she turned her body to the right, just in time to catch a right kick that was aimed at her head. She caught it in her arms, displaying a natural strength you wouldn’t expect from looking at her. With very little movement on her part, she held the man’s ankle high in her left hand, and thrust her right forearm through his knee from the side, snapping his leg. He fell to the floor, screaming with obvious and understandable agony. She looked back down at the man between her legs, and threw a quick right hand at his face, ensuring he was out for the count.
She stood and dusted herself down, looking quickly around to make sure all of the men were taken care of before turning back to look at Jericho.
He was stunned, temporarily forgetting the pain in his skull as he watched Julie—a slight, timid, innocent nurse—single-handedly take out six armed men with more ease than practically anyone he knew.
She walked toward him, and he sprang to his feet, stepping back into a loose fighting stance, trying to keep his left eye closed.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
“Relax, Jericho, I’m on your side,” she said. She placed a finger on her ear. “It’s me. Someone’s found us... probably the CIA. I had to break cover—Jericho’s bandages are off, and his eye is struggling with the sunlight.”
Jericho took a step toward her, forgetting any concerns he had, or any pain he felt, succumbing to the fresh feeling of anger. “Who are you talking to?” he demanded, pointing at her.
She walked over, putting her hand in her pocket and taking out an earpiece. She handed it to him.
Jericho frowned. “What’s going on?” he asked, both angry and confused.
“Put this in,” she said. “You want answers? They’re on the other end of the comms.”
Reluctantly, Jericho took it and placed it in his right ear. Lightning bolts of pain were shooting through the left side of his head. He grimaced as he activated the earpiece. “Who... is this?” he asked, grunting through a fresh wave of agony.
There was a brief crackle of static, and then a familiar, British voice. “Jericho, it’s me—Josh. Are you alright? What’s happening?”
“Josh? What’s happening is, I feel like a thousand burning knives are stabbing my skull! What the fuck did you people do to me?”
“Bollocks... okay, try to relax. We thought there might be a reaction to the light at first, but it’s only temporary. Keep it covered, and we’ll check you over when you come in.”
“Fuck you—I’m not coming back!”
Josh sighed. “Jericho, listen to me. Those men Julie just disposed of for you, and the ones in your hotel room, were part of a CIA unit sent to kill you. Not bring you in... kill you. Do you understand? Do you get what’s going on here? Thanks to your phone call yesterday, they now know you’re alive, which means you have a very large bullseye on your back. You’ll be dead within twenty-four hours on your own. We can help you.”
Jericho paused, feeling a second’s reprieve from the pain inside his head. “Why would you help me?” he asked, conceding that Josh made a valid point.
“Because we’re on the same side,” he implored.
Jericho looked over at Julie, who was stood resting against the hood of their sedan, her arms folded casually across her chest.
“Jericho, you need to come with us,” she said to him. “You shouldn’t have made that call to your old boss yesterday, but I had to let you see for yourself that you can’t trust them anymore.”
He glared at her. “Come with you? After you lied to me? I mean, it was all a lie, right? The helpless nurse, the frightened girl who can’t hold a gun... even you ‘rescuing’ me... it was all for show, wasn’t it?”
Julie stared at the ground for a moment before answering. “I’m sorry, but we had to. It was the only way…”
“You had to? You didn’t have to do anything!”
“Don’t be angry at her,” interrupted Josh on comms. “It was my idea. The only way you’d believe us is if you figured out for yourself what was going on here, like Julie said.”
“I’m not going anywhere with her,” he replied. He stared at Julie. “You lied to me… give me one reason why I shouldn’t fucking kill you right now.”
She shrugged and smiled at him. “Because you couldn’t if you tried.”
She stood up straight, turning her body slightly away from him, visibly tensing her muscles.
“Alright, easy tiger,” said Josh. “Julie, stand down. Jericho, you have no real choice. We need to take a look at you to ensure there’s no permanent damage to your eye. If there is, it will be excruciating, and potentially fatal. Plus, you have no allies in a war where the opposing side is far bigger.”
“Enough!” He clamped a hand over his left eye, and looked at Julie. “If you try to follow me, I will put you down—I don’t give a shit who you really are. Understood?”
She held her hands up passively and nodded without a word.
“I thought you were different,” continued Jericho, “but you’re not. You’re just like everyone else. There’s always a hidden agenda. I just want someone to be straight with me!”
“We are being straight with you,” she insisted. “I know this is hard, Jericho, but we’re not your enemy. The real enemy is the CIA, and these guys,” she gestured to the bodies scattered around them, “were just the beginning. They’re not going to stop now they know you’re alive, do you understand that? You’re a loose end, and they’ll do whatever it takes to finish what they started in Colombia.”
Jericho thought about what she’d said. He knew she made a good point, in spite of everything else running through his mind. And after speaking with Julius Jones the night before, he was convinced something was amiss. Even if he didn’t want to believe everything GlobaTech had told him, he could tell things weren’t right. Jones was very keen to get him back to Langley, and quick to jump on the defensive when Jericho questioned the CIA’s position.
He took a deep breath and stared at Julie, watching her. His anger slowly subsided and, finally, he relented. “So, you’re not a nurse, I’m guessing?” he asked.
She smiled. “I’m a lot of things,” she replied. “But no, I’m not a nurse.”
He lowered his left hand and let out a reluctant sigh. “Fine, let’s go. But this doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“Atta boy, Jericho,” said Josh. “Just give us a chance to prove ourselves to you, okay? That’s all I ask.”
“Whatever,” he said. He walked over to the sedan and opened the driver’s side door, but Julie appeared beside him.
“I don’t think so, handsome,” she said, smiling. “I’m driving.”
Jericho hesitated, but realizing he should probably keep his left eye covered with one hand, he stepped aside, allowing her to climb in behind the wheel. He shook his
head and walked around the car, sighing as he slid into the passenger seat and slammed his door closed.
Julie started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, turning right, and heading back toward Santa Clarita.
Jericho rested his head back in the seat. “Better the devil you know…” he muttered.
SANTA CLARITA, CALIFORNIA, USA
April 20th, 2017
10:32 PDT
The drive back to GlobaTech’s headquarters took less than an hour. The journey passed mostly in silence. The pain in Jericho’s head had subsided, too, which he was relieved about, although he still kept a hand over his eye as much as possible.
The traffic was steady, and the mid-morning sun was behind them. Julie had remained quiet, calmly focusing on the road. He noted the change in her body language; like someone had flipped a switch and turned her into a completely different person. She was more relaxed, comfortable… confident. He couldn’t deny being impressed with her fighting abilities, despite his anger at being deceived by her, and by the people who had spent the last thirty-six hours asking for his trust.
She turned into the compound, slowing to a stop in front of the security barrier guarding the entrance. On the other side of the roadway, a team of three men were replacing the barrier they broke the day before, during their escape. Two guards came out of the hut in the middle and approached the car. Jericho recognized them both from the large group who had tried to stop him, before Julie’s intervention.
They moved to the driver’s window, which Julie buzzed down, resting her arm on the frame as she leaned out. “Hey, fellas… we’re here to see Mr. Winters.”
They exchanged an uncertain glance, ducking slightly and staring at Jericho. Julie spotted their concern. “It’s okay, guys, he’s with me.”
Both guards relaxed and walked back into their hut. A few moments later, the barrier lifted and she eased through, heading left toward a large building in the far corner—a tall glass structure that wouldn’t have looked out of place against the skyline of any major city.
D.E.A.D. Till I Die: An Action Thriller (GlobaTech Book 1) Page 8