Thicker Than Blood

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Thicker Than Blood Page 13

by James P. Sumner


  He lets out a long sigh through loose lips. “This is a stupid idea.”

  I flick my eyebrows and smile. “Probably, but until a better one presents itself, this is what we’re going with.”

  On the back wall, across from the opening, is a service ladder, built into the brickwork. Just above each doorway is a gantry that runs around all four sides of the shaft. My thinking is, we climb up the ladder, onto each gantry, and make our way to the top floor. There should be a staircase there, leading to the roof.

  Josh steps slowly to the edge and peers over. “Okay, how are we getting to the ladder? It’s at least eight feet away. There’s no way I’m jumping, Adrian! There are risks, and there are risks…”

  I can’t believe I’m suggesting this.

  I clear my throat. “We don’t need to jump. We simply step out, grab a hold of the cables, and use them to climb over.”

  “That’s actually insane.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I reckon we have about two minutes before God-knows how many more of The Order’s assassins find us, and start shooting at us. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have that many bullets left. So, it’s either this, or we take on a small army of killers with nothing to help us except sarcasm and a winning smile. Your call.”

  He leans in again, looks up and down, over at the ladder, and finally back at me. “Alright, fine.”

  I step to the side. “Good man. Now, you’re going to have to go first.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I only have one hand, which means I can’t hold the cable and grab the ladder. You need to be over there, so I can hold the cable in my left, and have you help me across by grabbing my cast.”

  He sighs. “Shit, man. I hate you.”

  He tucks the Glock in his waistband behind him, and shuffles apprehensively to the edge of the shaft. He leans in, stretching a little, and wraps his hand tightly around the cable. He tugs at it, testing for sturdiness, and swings his front leg out. He hooks his foot around it, and I see his arm muscles tense. He takes a couple of quick, deep breaths, and steps out over the abyss, quickly grabbing on with his other hand. He lets out a grunt of exertion as he brings his back leg out, and right across, placing it firmly on the bottom rung of the service ladder.

  He glances down, and immediately closes his eyes. “Holy crap.”

  “Focus on your breathing, man, you’ve got this,” I say to him.

  He adjusts his grip, hugging the cable close to his chest with his left arm while he reaches out with his right. His fingertips brush against the ladder, stretching to get a hold.

  “Almost…” he mutters.

  …

  …

  …

  His hand wraps around a rung of the ladder, and he pulls himself across, linking them to hold him steady.

  I punch the air. “Nice!”

  He climbs up, and steps onto the gantry, level with the top of the doors. It’s not very wide, but he crouches, and then lies flat, keeping one arm hooked on the ladder. “Right, your turn.”

  Okay, here we go.

  I start the same way Josh did. I lean in and grip the cable with my left hand. Then I bring my front leg out, and hook my foot around it.

  So far, so good.

  Don’t look down, Adrian. Don’t… look…

  I look down.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus!”

  Above me, Josh hisses, “Why did you do that?”

  “I don’t know!”

  “Come on. Sooner you’re over here, sooner we can get to the roof.”

  I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, forcing back the rising dread in my mind. I tense my muscles, and swing myself out, simultaneously wrapping my back foot around the cable, and raising my arm, searching for Josh’s hand.

  …

  …

  …

  I feel his grip on my cast, which causes swift and immediate pain in my hand, but I can live with it, under the circumstances.

  “Got you,” he says. “Just step over and grab the ladder.”

  My arm’s aching and my feet are slipping. “I’m… trying…”

  I reach over with my right foot, and hook it around the ladder, which takes some of the strain. As I transfer more of my weight to my right arm, a bolt of pain shoots through my hand.

  I breathe through it, trying to block it from my mind.

  It’s now or never.

  I push off with my left hand and step over to the ladder. My full body weight pulls on Josh’s grip as, for a split-second, I dangle precariously over the pit yawning ominously below me.

  “Ugh!”

  Christ, it’s excruciating!

  …

  …

  …

  I wrap my left hand and foot around the ladder, and Josh immediately releases his grip, allowing me to hook my right arm around it, too.

  I made it.

  I take a moment to compose myself and let the agony subside, and then steadily climb up, stepping onto the gantry across from Josh. We press our backs and heels to the cold brick, our feet only a couple of inches from the edge of the metal platform.

  I look over at him. “You okay?”

  “Not really. You?”

  “Peachy.”

  We look across. The bottom of the door on the floor above is maybe three feet above my head. Too far to reach from beneath. I steel myself and look down. The top edge of the elevator doors below us is maybe a little over a foot below the gantry.

  I gesture to it with a small nod. “We’ll have to climb up to the gantry for the twenty-fourth, and then reach down to pry the doors open for the twenty-third. We’ll get off there and take the stairs the rest of the way.”

  “Okay, let’s get this over with.”

  I shuffle to the side, step back onto the ladder, and start to climb, hearing Josh below me doing the same. It’s completely vertical, and hard to make your way up, especially with one hand. I’m having to hook my entire forearm around the rungs, which takes more time. Still, it’s not something I want to rush.

  I draw level with the next platform, just above the doors to the twenty-first floor, and stop. I hear something below me. I look down and see Josh staring up at me questioningly.

  “Did you hear that?” I whisper.

  He nods slowly, and we both hold our breath, listening.

  It sounds like footsteps. Lots of them.

  We exchange another glance, and both look down, over our shoulders, at the open elevator doors below us. I see a head poking out, and a face staring back at us, smiling.

  Oh, shit.

  “Josh, we gotta move!”

  I start climbing again, passing the gantry just as gunfire breaks out. The bullets whizz and clatter against the metal and brick at our feet, but luckily avoid us. I climb as fast as I dare, ascending the ladder with renewed urgency.

  We soon draw level with the gantry above the twenty-second floor. The angle should be too steep for anyone to get a shot off now.

  “I think we’re clear,” I call down. “It’s just a little farther.”

  I step out onto the metal platform, taking a moment to catch my breath as Josh appears next to me. “Do you wanna make the joke about us being shafted right now, or shall I do it?”

  I smile. “Be my guest.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “Nah, I’ll save it. It’ll be funnier when we’re telling this story back to people.”

  “Damn right. Come on.”

  We start the climb again and it only takes us a few minutes to reach the gantry above the twenty-fourth floor. There’s not enough room to stand on it, so we crouch and shuffle our way around so we’re positioned either side of the elevator doors below us.

  I look at Josh. “You’re gonna need to climb back out onto the cables, shuffle down so you’re level with the doors, and try to force them open yourself. I can lean over the edge, but I doubt I’ll be very effective one-handed.”

  He flicks his eyes sardonically. “Yeah…”

  Without a
ny hesitation, he reaches over, secures his grip, and pulls himself out once more over the shaft. He wraps his legs and feet around the cables, and moves himself slowly down, his knuckles white with tension. As he draws level with the door below, he leans out and presses his fingertips into the crack. I hear him grunt with effort, but he sees no success.

  “Let me try to help.” I lie flat, and hook my right arm around the top rung of the ladder as I reach down with my left hand. It’s a stretch, but I can just about reach, firmly pressing my own hand against the doors. “Okay, go.”

  We both struggle and pull, desperately trying to separate the doors. A small crack of light appears. More effort, and the gap widens enough for us to both fit our hand in.

  “Almost… got it…”

  The shaft below me is bathed in light as the doors slide apart.

  I close my eyes and breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

  “Good work,” says Josh. “Now, let’s get out of here, and—”

  A mechanical whirring echoes around us, cutting him off. The sound of gears shifting follows.

  What’s that?

  Our eyes meet, and I can see from his face that we’ve reached the same conclusion at the same time. Those bastards must’ve overridden the system somehow, and reactivated the elevator!

  The cables creak as they begin to move, and Josh is suddenly dragged upward.

  “Shit!” he yells, as he begins climbing down, although the motion simply keeps him in the same place.

  I look up. The ceiling isn’t far above us. If he stays on those cables, he’ll be crushed!

  “Josh, you gotta move! Now!”

  He begins climbing down faster, inching closer to the open doors. He keeps looking below him, checking the distance of the approaching carriage. I watch as he draws level with the gap, and heaves himself off the cables, diving head-first out of the shaft, disappearing from my sight.

  I’m glad he’s safe, but what about me? I can’t stand where I am, and looking at the elevator, I won’t make it onto the gantry below me in time.

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  It’s closing fast.

  Think, Adrian, come on!

  I peer down again. It’s only a few floors below me.

  Shit!

  …

  …

  …

  I look at the cables.

  Screw it.

  I push myself up into a crouch and jump off. I hook my right arm loosely around the cable and use my momentum to spin myself clockwise as I descend rapidly toward the oncoming carriage. As I complete the turn, I unhook my arm, and fly feet first through the open doors below. I land heavily on the carpeted floor, rolling toward the wall opposite. I come to a stop, and stare back wide-eyed as the elevator shoots past the doors.

  Holy shit!

  My heart’s hammering so fast, I can hear it.

  “Jesus! You okay?”

  I look to my right, and see Josh sitting on the floor nearby, his arms stretched out behind him; his legs flat out in front. He’s breathing hard, his brow glistening with sweat.

  I nod silently. Not sure I have the ability to form words just yet.

  That was crazy!

  But there’s no time to rest now. We may have passed everyone once, but that means they’re now all below us, and they’ll be heading up here to see if we’re pancakes or not, which means we need to move.

  We both scramble to our feet and head across the floor of the office building toward the fire escape. Josh checks his watch. “The chopper should be here any minute.”

  I open the door. “First piece of good news we’ve had all day.”

  We both step back inside the concrete stairwell, the cool breeze refreshing after everything we’ve just been through. As we begin climbing the steps, heading for the twenty-fourth, I risk a peek over the railing. Maybe three floors below us, a group of men are racing toward us.

  “They’re coming,” I say, picking up the pace, taking the steps two at a time.

  Past the door for the twenty-fourth is a final set of steps, leading to the roof. We sprint up them, and come out in a narrow, damp corridor, with a metal door at the end. We burst through it, out into the blinding glare of the midday sun.

  I slam the door closed behind us, squinting as my eyes adjust to the sudden influx of natural light. The wind whips around me, much stronger and colder all the way up here. A venting system traces itself around the roof. The oblong metal piping is close to three feet tall, maybe the same across, and it snakes around the door, and the small space behind it.

  A large, hexagonal helipad dominates the far end of the roof. Josh has moved out into the open, standing a few feet from it, scanning the horizon for any sign of the chopper. I stand beside him and look out at the Seattle skyline sprawling out around us.

  Before I can take it in, I hear the door slam open against the wall behind us. I spin around to see armed men filing out, their guns raised as they move into position, seeking cover behind the vents.

  I look around. We don’t have any.

  Shit!

  We both level our weapons and fire pre-emptively as we walk backward, using the valuable seconds it buys us to move across to the far side of the helipad. It’s raised slightly, only by a few steps, but it’s enough to duck behind.

  The hammer of my borrowed rifle clicks down on an empty chamber. I’m out. I unhook the strap from around my neck and throw the weapon aside. As we reach the other side of the helipad, Josh fires his last bullet, too.

  We crouch beside each other as The Order’s hit squad opens fire, retaliating with a carefree spray of bullets that ricochet off the ground all around us. I peek over the top, and see seven men walking slowly toward us, shooting indiscriminately, without any obvious aim. They have the advantage here, so there’s no need to be shy with their ammo, I guess.

  I duck back and look at Josh. “I’m sorry, man. This is my fault.”

  He nods. “I know it is. But you have nothing to apologize for. If we don’t make it, I want you to know that—”

  He stops talking, and we both turn in unison as we hear the repeated thudding of helicopter blades suddenly drown out the howling wind. Sweeping into view, circling high behind the men, the chopper slides to a hover, and the side door opens. Two men appear, dressed in GlobaTech fatigues, and—

  Holy shit!

  —open fire on the roof! They mowed down all seven of these assholes in seconds. They barely had time to turn around. As the last of the men hit the ground, the chopper banks toward us, and touches down gently on the helipad ten feet from us. We make our way up the nearby steps, stooping as we pass under the blades, and climb aboard.

  Facing us are five GlobaTech security operatives, sitting along both sides. Another two are kneeling in the middle of the floor, facing the seats positioned with their backs to the cockpit. Both Josh and I sit in one, and he puts a headset on. He says something inaudible, presumably to the pilot, and we take off a moment later.

  One of the men in front of us slides the door closed, and extends his hand to me, which I shake gratefully. He then looks at Josh. “Sorry we’re late, sir,” he yells.

  Josh smiles and shouts back, “All is forgiven. Now get us the hell out of here.”

  We look at each other and bump fists.

  “Nice work,” he says to me.

  I nod. “Let’s not do that again, though, yeah?”

  He laughs. “Agreed.”

  21

  17:16 PDT

  I’m pacing back and forth in the hotel room, tracing the same route past the beds, down the side of each one, and back again. Josh is sitting at the small desk, tapping feverishly away on his laptop, analyzing all the information on the flash drive we took from Sterling’s safe.

  It’s not going well.

  The chopper dropped us off near the parking lot of our hotel. We got our bags, checked out, and drove north on I-5, crossing the border into Vancouver. We’re working on the assumption that The Order can see us, and have all t
heir assets following us as best they can, so we drove aimlessly around the city for almost an hour before parking in an underground lot, and walking to the nearest hotel.

  It’s nice, and expensive, and given Josh’s GlobaTech credit card is paying for it, we went all out and rented a suite. It’s a single main room, but very spacious. The two Queen beds are against the left wall, with a large bathroom opposite, furnished with an exquisite marble décor. Two large windows running floor-to-ceiling face the double doors of the entrance, providing plenty of natural light. To the right of the bathroom, a TV is mounted on the right wall, level with the gap between the beds. A light-wood desk is positioned beneath it, where Josh is sitting right now.

  The left corner is a living space, with an L-shaped sofa dominating the area, and a small coffee table in the middle.

  I walk behind him for the hundredth time. “What’s taking so long?”

  He sighs impatiently. “It’s encrypted and it’s a bitch to hack into. Plus, it doesn’t help you asking me why it’s taking so long every five minutes.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

  Man, I need to get out of here. It’s only been an hour, but it feels like six. I guess it has been a long day. I’ve not eaten anything and I’m thoroughly pissed off that I had to leave my Berettas behind in Seattle. Especially because Josh took the liberty of caring for them when he thought I was dead. I loved those guns. They were a gift from an old friend. Someone who isn’t around anymore, who understood the significance of giving me something like that.

  While I’ve been pacing around this room, waiting for Josh to work his magic, I’ve had a lot of time to think. We had to have made at least a small dent in The Order’s manpower after we met with Sterling. And him losing his head would’ve been a major blow for them, regardless of how necessary they might have deemed it. That’s twenty percent of their upper management… gone. I’m sure everyone knows by now, and there’s no way they’re not concerned.

  And let’s not forget Horizon. He’s the bastard sending all the men after us. He still has an advantage, simply because he has more guns than we do. But one thing I’m not sure of, is whether or not anyone’s realized we robbed Sterling before we left. That we have all the shit from his safe. Granted, we’ve not been able to decrypt any of it yet, but that’s only a matter of time.

 

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