Final Target: Six Assassins Book 6

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Final Target: Six Assassins Book 6 Page 17

by Heskett, Jim


  The second problem was Helmut. Thomas had been killed, and Ember had every reason to think Helmut wanted his revenge. But, honestly, Ember’s best plan to combat Helmut was to avoid him. If she could stay out of his reach for a few days, then Firedrake management would call him back to California for a debriefing. He would receive some form of punishment for letting Thomas die on his watch, then they would reassign him to act as bodyguard for an executive in Madrid or Copenhagen or wherever the company’s home office was located. He would then be out of her life for good.

  As Ember drove away from Denver International Airport, she didn’t feel good about either of her plans. But it was the best she had. As she turned onto the exit ramp down toward I-70, she could feel the absence of Zach in her heart. He would be back there right now, boarding a plane, shuffling along the jetway. Did he have his headphones in? She wondered what he was listening to.

  Ember merged onto I-70 toward the toll road, and she didn’t see the Honda truck cross two lanes of traffic toward her. Not until it was bearing down on her, with the black nose of the hulking beast pointed at her car’s engine.

  In a flash, it came.

  “Shit!” she said as the vehicle entered her peripheral. She jerked the wheel to her right, toward the deep ditch running alongside the interstate. Too late. The truck’s snarling mouth crashed into the Camry, demolishing the front left wheel at fifty miles per hour.

  Ember’s hands came off the steering wheel. She didn’t know she was flying, only that her seatbelt kept her in place as the ceiling became the floor and the floor became the ceiling. Then the ceiling became the side walls, and then she lost track. She heard air whistling. Her eyes wanted to slam shut.

  Metal screeching, her guts turned over as the car went spiraling into the wide ditch, then rolled over at least one more time.

  Her eyes had closed against the turmoil, and when they opened, she found herself looking at the sky below and the ground up top. Cars raced along the ceiling of her vision.

  She was upside down. Her seatbelt pressed against her chest, cutting off her airflow, keeping her rooted to her seat, which was now on the ceiling. Had she bumped her head? For some reason, she couldn’t force her brain to reorient to the reversed landscape.

  Ember gasped. Head now pounding, she could feel wetness on her cheek. Something had cut her. Didn’t feel too serious. She tried to reach out and open the car door, but everything being upside down messed with her spatial awareness. Her eyes fluttered. Her brain told her to sleep. More wetness. The crinkling of broken glass.

  She sucked in a few more breaths, trying to get her bearing. With the seat belt pressing into her and holding her in place, she couldn’t expand her chest. A lack of oxygen made her lightheaded. She thought she could smell smoke. Was that smoke? Was the engine smoking? That was a bad sign. She had to get out of here.

  A figure appeared outside her window. Kevin, the Boulder Branch member who had accosted her at the convenience store a few days ago. Then, he had been pissed about her killing Fagan, and now, probably mad about knowing her true identity. He was wearing brown pantyhose stretched over his face, smushing his hair and nose flat.

  He pulled out a massive pistol, and Ember only now realized he was the one who had driven the truck into her car, knocking her off the road. Her thoughts seemed slow, and she struggled to parse the multitude of sensations crowding her brain.

  But she knew she was in serious danger. If she wasn’t free of this seatbelt and out of this car within seconds, she would die. No doubt about that.

  He aimed the pistol at her, point blank, and pulled the trigger. The bullet shattered the glass, but it somehow missed her. The window must have changed the angle of the shot, deflecting it somewhere inside the car. Also, she’d barely heard the blast of the weighty gun. Her ears were already ringing from the crash. Only now did she even notice she hadn’t heard anything for several seconds.

  Frantic, she found the seat belt button and tried to stab a thumb at it. But, with her full mass bearing down on the seatbelt from above, she couldn’t press the button. It wouldn’t release with all that pressure from her bodyweight.

  Kevin aimed again, now through the open window. Standing two feet away, the barrel of the gun at her head. He pressed the trigger, grinning through the sheer mask.

  Click. But no shot.

  He frowned and looked at the gun. It had jammed.

  Ember jabbed her thumb at the seat belt release again, and it still wouldn’t budge. Kevin ejected the magazine and pulled back the slide to jettison the round in the chamber.

  She had maybe one full second left before he fixed the jam. One more second until there was nothing standing between him and killing his target.

  Her lungs screamed. Her head throbbed.

  Ember put one hand between her chest and the seatbelt, and she shoved with all her might, pushing herself up toward the seat, and creating a half inch of space between her and the belt. She could feel it loosen.

  Now, she jabbed her thumb against the seat belt button and it came unclasped. She fell six inches toward the car’s ceiling, and the shoulder belt caught her arm to keep her from smashing down. She shoved that out of her way as Kevin leveled the gun at her head.

  Her thoughts trickled back and the world made more sense now. Danger. She still couldn’t breathe, still felt like she was wearing that seat belt across her chest, even though it wasn’t any longer.

  She had to move, now. No more mistakes.

  Ember snatched the door handle and gave it a push. The car door opened and smacked Kevin in the knees. His gun went off, but with his body forced backward, his hand had floated up and the shot sailed high above the car.

  He jumped back a step as Ember emerged from the car. Panting, unable to fill her lungs, she leaped toward Kevin, anyway, despite lacking the energy to throw much into her motion. Her shoulder thudded into his stomach, knocking him back another step.

  She planted her feet and straightened her back, despite the drowsiness. She shot out a hand to jab him in the nose.

  He tried to raise the gun and level it at her chest, but Ember swatted it at it, knocking it from his hand. He seemed a little dazed from the accident, too.

  Cars whizzed by on the highway. Cold midday air tickled the back of her neck, but she could also feel the sun doing its work against the dry, light air. Her chest still pulsed, a remnant of the seatbelt that had saved her life moments ago. Had she collapsed a lung? She could worry about that later.

  Kevin bent over to grab the gun, now sitting on the snow embankment next to the road. As he leaned, Ember reared back and kicked him in the chin with all her might. Kevin’s arms flung back as he stumbled, but he didn’t go down.

  The assassin spread his legs wide to balance himself.

  They both went for the gun.

  But she was closer to it.

  Ember snatched the pistol from the snow and pointed it at his chest. He raised both his hands toward her, out in front of his torso. His eyebrows climbed up onto his forehead.

  His face said I surrender, but she could already see him lowering his center of gravity to lunge for her. She didn’t give him a chance.

  Without another thought, she pressed the trigger three times, punching three holes in Kevin’s chest. Ember had barely heard the roar of the gun, although she could feel the recoil throttling her elbow and shoulder.

  He sank back, gasping for air. He tried to speak, but no words came. After swooning on his knees for half a second, his eyes went blank, and he dropped into the snow. All that kinetic energy vanished, and he sank into the white surface as the air wheezed out of his lungs.

  Ember stood, holding the pistol. Head throbbing, chest hurting, still unable to draw a full breath. Stars twinkled at the edges of her vision, and she swayed on her feet.

  Cops would be here any second now. She had to get out of here. Were there any documents in the car identifying her? She couldn’t think straight. Thoughts jumped around inside her head as if on
a trampoline.

  “I’m sorry, Kevin,” she said, hoarse against the sound of the nearby traffic. “Maybe it isn’t worth shit, but I mean it. I betrayed all of you and I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.”

  For a moment, she stood there, realizing this wasn’t the first time in recent memory she had apologized to someone she’d killed.

  Ember shoved Kevin’s pistol in her waistband and then returned to the car to retrieve her purse and her guns. Then, she lurched away from the highway to put some distance between her and this crash. Soon, she walked, then jogged, then she ran.

  Running at full speed, chest burning, barely able to keep her feet underneath her, the assassin didn’t look back.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  EMBER

  She stood before the hotel bathroom mirror and lifted her shirt. A bruise the size and shape of a seatbelt ran diagonally from her left shoulder to her right oblique. Purple in spots, black or blue in others. It looked like some abstract painter had used her upper torso as a canvas. Ugly as hell.

  Behind her, Layne dropped his car keys on the dresser and leaned against it. Ember watched him in the mirror averting his eyes, since she was showing bare midriff and her bra. Quite the gentleman.

  “You okay?” he asked, eyes down. “I have some old pain pills sitting in a drawer in my condo from a surgery I had a couple years ago. It wouldn’t take me that long to go get them.”

  Ember tapped at the bruise, seemingly darkening before her eyes. She tested pivoting her body left and right. While it hurt, she didn’t seem to have lost any of her range of movement, but turning did make her wheeze. Probably no medicine ball abdominal workouts in her future for a few weeks. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I don’t like to take that stuff unless I absolutely have to.”

  “Sure, I get it. I feel the same way.”

  “How about you?” she asked.

  He lifted his shirt, showing off a set of deeply carved abs. A blotchy bruise covered one of the cans in his six-pack. Remnants of the gunfight atop the airport parking garage. “I’m healing nicely. Barely hurts.”

  “My trigger finger works just fine, but we should probably avoid any close-quarters combat for a while.”

  “We may not have that luxury.”

  Ember sighed as she lowered her shirt and checked lifting her hands above her head. Some pain there, but not too much. “Yeah, I know.”

  Behind her, Layne had pulled two chairs over toward the dresser where he had staged a work area with a laptop. Time to discuss the phone-stealing plan.

  Ember slid into one of the chairs, grimacing against the pain in her chest, but trying to hide the expression on her face. Was a part of her trying to impress Layne by downplaying the injury? Maybe so. He did seem a bit like a cool older brother.

  “What have we got?” she asked.

  Layne scrolled along the trackpad until a map appeared on the screen. “Marcus has holed up in this mountain mansion here, based on the info Serena gave us.” He pointed at a spot on the map and zoomed in. It was a satellite image, close enough to the area to see plenty of detail.

  Ember knew the general region, but not well. Past Boulder, up Flagstaff Road, then in the area known as Coal Creek Canyon. Close to the unincorporated community of Pinecliffe. Ember studied the building on the screen. It looked huge, at least ten thousand or fifteen thousand square feet, with multiple satellite buildings. Plus it backed up to a lengthy canyon on the north end, with mountain peaks on the east and west sides. There were towers on the property like duck blinds, with roofs and ladders reaching up to the sitting area inside them. Plus, a tall stone fence ran around the length of the yard, forming a circle.

  “Remote,” Ember said.

  Layne nodded. “There are three ways to reach the mansion. Three separate roads, and each of them has its own dangers.”

  “This sounds just like a game I downloaded onto my phone a couple years ago. But, in that one, I was a knight trying to breach the castle walls.”

  He grinned. “Yeah, it’s sorta like that, actually. They’re not well-maintained, though. One-lane, rough riding. I don’t know how old this satellite image is, but you can see downed trees have completely blocked off this eastern passage.”

  Ember studied the two remaining routes. “So we go up the front way?”

  “I think so. Word is he’s leaving town for good in the late morning, so that suggests he’ll be staying there tonight.”

  “So we go right now?”

  Layne shook his head. “I’m not quite ready to move out. But, I was thinking, our best bet is to go early, before dawn. Hopefully we can catch him sleeping.”

  “Any chance Marcus let Serena know about this place because it’s a trap?”

  Layne chewed on his lower lip and smoothed his blond hair. “Sure, it’s possible. We should expect that not everything is as it seems, at least. And, if it is a trap, I still don’t see a better option than springing it and trying to slide past the worst of it. Even if it’s not actually a trap, I would still expect some resistance.”

  “How many?”

  “Serena didn’t report Marcus telling her exact numbers, but I have a feeling he’s got ten to fifteen armed guards on the premises. Probably planned escape routes, too, if it goes wrong for him. There’s no helicopter in the sat photos, but we can’t see inside these garages. I guarantee he’s got a fast car for a road getaway, plus a snowcat or something like that for bad weather.”

  “I don’t really care if he escapes, as long as we get his phones first. Killing him is not my priority. I’d rather he live, actually. I’d rather he spend a few decades in jail thinking about what he's done.”

  “Understood.”

  “I don’t suppose you have better satellites, drones, night vision goggles, and supplies like that?”

  Layne gave a slow shake of the head.

  “NVGs might be doable,” Ember said. “I have a contact in Lafayette. I’ll drop by there tonight and see about getting us a whole slew of toys to play with.”

  “It’s just you and me, so anything we can do to fortify our position would be welcome.”

  Ember leaned forward to catch Layne’s eye. “I appreciate all your help. When I first learned about you, I didn’t expect we would be embarking on a pre-dawn raid of a heavily fortified compound together a few weeks later. And I’m thankful to Serena, too, for her intel.”

  “We’re happy to help. Once she learned the truth about Marcus, switching sides was a no-brainer. Plus, I know you, and you’re not a bad person, Ember Clarke. I vouched for you.”

  The Ember of a couple months ago would have been tempted to seduce Layne here and now, because why not? They were probably going to die tomorrow. But now, she could only think of her man, who was currently in a taxi in Detroit. Seducing Layne was not an option.

  “Thank you. Not only for this, but for what you did to help me and Zach. That guy Thomas has been a thorn in our side for months now, and I’ll definitely sleep better knowing Zach is safe.”

  Layne nodded, with a hint of a smile on his face. He pointed at the house. “We go in, hopefully under cover of darkness, full stealth. Ideally, we’ll find Marcus’ bedroom, steal his phones, and be on our way before anyone knows we were there.”

  Ember squinted at the mansion. It occurred how poorly she had managed her time this week. All those hours chasing after Omar White, trying to build a connection between him and Marcus. In the end, it would all come down to stealing a phone to make the case instead. A phone they were hoping contained all the evidence they needed. Since Marcus had two, odds were he kept one for public use, and one as a private option. Even careful criminals like Marcus Lonsdale could be sloppy with "private" phones.

  “I have a backup plan I’m putting in motion,” Ember said, “from Serena’s contact she hooked me up with. It shouldn’t interfere with what we’re doing.”

  Layne shrugged. “No problem. If it doesn’t involve me, I don’t need to know about it.”

  Em
ber grinned a little. That seemed like a perfect phrase for this soft-spoken and handsome assassin Layne to put on his business cards. “If it doesn’t involve me, I don’t need to know about it - Layne Parrish, Virtuous Spy For Hire.”

  “Okay,” Ember said as she stood, wincing against the pain in her chest. “Time to go round up supplies. Cool if I borrow your car? I have the Thum app on my phone, so I can catch a ride, if you’d rather not.”

  Layne nodded toward the keys on the dresser. “My car has bulletproof protection built into the doors and windows. You can take the child seat out of the back if necessary. I’d rather you didn’t, though, because it’s a pain in the ass to install.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Ember grabbed the keys and flashed a smile at her new operational partner. “I guess we’re doing this.”

  “I guess we are.”

  “See you in a few,” Ember said as she zipped her coat and threw up the hoodie.

  Chapter Forty

  HELMUT

  When Helmut saw the need to move, he didn’t waste time. He ordered the two-dozen men with him to pack up at the motel and roll out to the trucks with no delay. From barking the order to putting the first truck into Drive took eleven minutes. Not bad, since a couple of the men were napping at the time. But eleven minutes was a long time when mere seconds could determine the difference between capturing Zach and Ember or missing them.

  Helmut moved his crew south, from Fort Collins down to Boulder. He had done this at the suggestion of Marcus Lonsdale, the mysterious man behind the phone call from earlier. He had sounded legitimate; a man with a desire to expose Ember Clarke, and he’d promised to reveal her location in a subsequent phone call.

  The trucks pulled over in the northeastern part of Boulder, at what looked like an abandoned office building. Helmut had been told this was the Denver Assassins Club “Post Office” for the Boulder region. A place where they would meet to train and socialize and other things. Whatever it had been before, no one came out to greet them now.

 

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