Phoenix

by Alex Lukeman

  "Steph said the van was going southwest," Nick said.

  Ronnie nodded. "That's straight ahead."

  One of the drinkers looked up at the black Hummer as it rolled by and raised his middle finger.

  Ronnie drove slowly. The street deteriorated as they neared the river. On either side were abandoned buildings and vacant lots filled with trash. It was an apocalyptic landscape devoid, of life. Angry graffiti sprawled everywhere. A mountain of bald tires spilled out into the street from a deserted garage. Ronnie drove around it.

  "She could be anywhere in here," Ronnie said.

  "We need to find that van," Nick said. "They wouldn't leave it on the street. Look for someplace they could drive into."

  Ronnie adjusted the rearview mirror.

  "We've got company."

  Nick looked in the side mirror. "I see them."

  The motorcycles they'd seen parked outside the bar were coming up behind the Hummer.

  "Could be trouble," Lamont said. "Those guys are probably stoked on dope and booze."

  "Let's see if they go on by."

  Nick unbuttoned the strap on his shoulder holster.

  "You got that look, Nick," Lamont said.

  "I'm not in the mood to mess with these guys. They know what's good for them, they leave us alone."

  A few blocks ahead, the street ended in a T. To the left was a long stretch of vacant lots. To the right, more of the derelict buildings. Ahead, the Potomac.

  "When you get to the end, take a right," Nick said.

  "Here come the bikers," Lamont said.

  The rumble of motorcycles grew loud as the bikes surrounded them. Two pulled out in front and slowed. Two more pulled along each side. The last hung behind. The men on the bikes were wearing club colors. The patches on their backs pictured a leering skull surrounded by flames.

  "Gee," Ronnie said, "Bad boys out for a ride."

  On the left, one of the bikers kicked at Ronnie's door. On the right, a biker pulled a chain from around his waist and slashed it against Nick's window. It slid off the bulletproof glass.

  "Now they've hurt my feelings," Ronnie said.

  Nick said, "When I take care of these guys on the right, hit the brakes. I want to ask them if they saw the van."

  Nick threw open his door and knocked the chain swinger and his bike into the rider next to him. The two shiny machines went down on the asphalt in a trail of sparks. Ronnie jammed on the brakes. The biker behind them hit the back of the car and went down on his bike. Nick jumped out, pistol in hand.

  Caught by surprise by the sudden stop, the bikes on the left passed and slowed, then turned back with the two who'd been blocking the Hummer in front. Ronnie pulled a sawed-off Remington 870 from a pocket in the door and jumped out, Lamont behind him. Ronnie lifted the shotgun and fired at the front wheels of the oncoming bikers. The blast sent their machines crashing into one another. The sound echoed off the abandoned buildings.

  On the right side of the car, Nick pistol whipped one of the bikers as he got up, knocking him back down. The second came at him with a knife in his hand. Nick stepped inside the thrust and broke his arm. The biker screamed in pain.

  The first biker tried to get up, blood streaming down his face. Nick kicked him in the groin. He doubled into a fetal position, groaning.

  On the left, a big biker came toward Ronnie with a tire iron in his hand. He swung. Ronnie ducked and slammed the butt of his shotgun into the man's face. He went down. His head bounced on the cracked pavement.

  "Behind you," Lamont yelled.

  Ronnie turned as Lamont shot one of the bikers. The man cried out in pain.

  "Get down, mother fuckers," Lamont said. "I said, down."

  One of the bikers yelled.

  "All right, man, all right. Keep cool."

  Nick looked at the two he'd taken out of the picture. They weren't going anywhere. He walked around the front of the car.

  Lamont and Ronnie stood over three of the bikers. Their motorcycles lay where they'd fallen. Two were still running, then sputtered to a stop. A fourth biker sat on the broken pavement, clutching his leg where Lamont had shot him. Blood seeped through his fingers. A cloth patch sown onto the front of his vest identified him as the president.

  Nick walked over to him. He gestured with his pistol at the Hummer.

  "You scratched up my friend's wheels."

  "We was only having a little fun, man. There wasn't no need to get heavy about it."

  "Uh huh. I think you need to apologize."

  The man's face contorted in anger.

  "Fuck you, asshole."

  Nick stomped on the man's leg where he'd been shot. He screamed. Nick pointed his pistol between the man's eyes. When you're looking at the barrel of a gun pointed at you from two feet away, the hole at the end seems bigger than it is.

  "Apologize."

  One of the bikers yelled out, "Don't do it, Billy."

  Lamont kicked him in the ribs.

  "Shut up."

  Nick said, "Ronnie, check the two on the other side of the car."

  He turned back to the man sitting on the ground in front of him.

  "Looks like you kind of bit off more than you could chew, doesn't it, Billy? Now, apologize to my friend."

  "Fuck you."

  Nick pulled back the hammer.

  Billy's tongue flicked out over dry lips. "Yeah, okay."

  "Okay, what?"

  "Okay, I'm sorry."

  Nick decocked his pistol.

  "See? That wasn't so hard. Now I have a question for you. You give me the right answer, we'll drive away and leave you here with no hard feelings. Did you see a dark colored van drive through here earlier?"

  "A van?"

  "A van. Dark. Color."

  "Yeah, maybe."

  "Yes or no, Billy?"

  "Yes."

  "Did it come down this street?"

  "Yeah." He pointed. "It turned that way, two blocks back from here. We was heading for the bar when we saw it."

  "Good," Nick said. "Your bikes are kind of beat up. We'll call it even for the scratches you put on my friend's car. We're going to go now. Don't get any ideas about following us or making more trouble. We let you off easy, this time. If there's a next time, you won't like it."

  He stepped back.

  "Let's roll, Ronnie."

  They got back in the car.

  "Try not to run over any of them," Nick said.

  Ronnie turned around, drove over one of the motorcycles and kept going. Nick watched the bikers struggle to their feet in the rearview mirror. One of them picked up a piece of rubble from the road and threw it after the car. It fell far short. They reached the street Billy had pointed out.

  "Go the other way," Nick said. "He was lying."

  "Punks," Ronnie said.

  "We lost a lot of time," Nick said.

  "Wasn't much choice," Lamont said. "It was worth it. At least we know the van came this way."

  "Yeah," Nick said.

  CHAPTER 27

  Selena wasn't sure how long she'd been standing by the door. The patch of light coming through the skylight had moved across the floor. She'd placed herself in a state of light meditation while she waited, her senses heightened for a hint of an approaching enemy.

  She heard footsteps and moved into her stance, her hand formed into a knuckled weapon. A bolt scraped on the outside of the door. The doorknob turned and the door swung open, into the room.

  The man still had his hand on the knob when Selena launched a killing blow at his throat. He stumbled forward, clasping his throat with both hands, making choking and gagging noises. Halfway into the room, he fell.

  Selena ignored his spasms and stepped out of the room. There was time to see someone big standing there when he hit her, hard. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.

  Josef looked down at her, then through the door. Anton's heels drummed on the wood and he stopped moving.

  Bitch, Josef thought. How did she get fre
e?

  He looked down at Selena. The side of her face was red and swelling where he'd hit her.

  Maybe I should kill her. I'd better ask Mister N. what he wants me to do.

  He reached for his phone and remembered he'd left it in the van. He took two zip ties from his pocket and fastened Selena's wrists together, this time behind her back. More zip ties went around her ankles. He bent down and picked her up, carried her back into the room, and dumped her on the mattress. She groaned.

  It was too bad about Anton. Now he'd have to drive the van himself.

  The room were Selena lay unconscious was on the second floor of the abandoned factory. Josef started down the stairs, careful where he placed his feet on the rotting wood. He reached the ground floor and walked over to the van, facing out toward a closed overhead door. Nothing could be seen of the van from the street.

  Josef retrieved his phone and called Mister Nicklaus.

  "Sir, there's been a complication. The woman managed to free herself. She killed Anton."

  "Did you question her yet?"

  "No, sir. That's what we were going to do when she went after Anton."

  "Anton was an idiot," Nicklaus said. "I told you not to underestimate her. Did she escape?"

  "No, sir. I hit her, pretty hard. She may be damaged. She's unconscious and tied up."

  "Where are you?"

  "In an abandoned clothing factory, near the river."

  "What did you do with Anton?"

  "Nothing, yet. He's upstairs, in the same room as the woman."

  "I may have made a mistake in sending you to grab her," Nicklaus said.

  "Sir..."

  "You don't have to worry, Josef. It's my mistake, not yours. Anton's body complicates things. He can be identified if the authorities find him."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  Three thousand miles away, Mister Nicklaus considered his options. It wouldn't do if the authorities found Anton. Josef could take the body away and get rid of it somewhere, but there was always the possibility it would be found.

  No, the body had to be destroyed. Plus the woman had probably seen Josef before he hit her. She would be able to identify him.

  In hindsight, grabbing the woman to question her had been a bad idea. This incident was a reminder to pay closer attention to his impulsive decisions. It was time to cut his losses. Besides, he was almost ready to trigger the final phase. Neither the woman's secretive unit nor any other agency would be able to stop him in time.

  "Josef."

  "Yes, Mister Nicklaus?"

  "This place where you are, will it burn?"

  Josef looked around. The building was about sixty feet long and forty wide. The floors were of red oak, stained with oil from long vanished machinery. The second floor was held up with wooden beams and posts. At some point in its history, the building had been a clothing factory. Part of the first floor was taken up with a mountain of remnants left behind when the factory failed. Some gasoline and a match would send it up in an instant.

  "Like the Fourth of July," Josef said. "It will go up like a torch."

  "Excellent. Set the building on fire. The flames will destroy any trace of Anton and the woman."

  "You want me to kill her?"

  "The fire will do that," Nicklaus said. "Be quick about it. Come back when you're done."

  Nicklaus disconnected.

  Josef thought about having a little fun with Selena before he set the fire, but Nicklaus had said to be quick. Besides, she was dangerous and she was pregnant. It wasn't worth the trouble.

  There was a five gallon container of gas in the back of the van, next to an emergency road package with flares and hazard signs. Josef took the container from the van and walked over to the pile of rags. He splashed gasoline on the pile and around the edge, then trailed it away across the floor to a wooden post supporting the floor above. He tossed the empty container on the rags.

  The room stank of fumes. Josef went to the overhead door and pulled it open. He started the van and drove it to the door, then got out, holding a flare. He lit it and tossed the flare onto the pile of remnants.

  The gas and fumes ignited with a loud whumph. Flames shot up and followed the trail of gas along the wooden floor. As he watched, the post caught fire. A thin, bluish flame shot up to the floor above. Black smoke began pouring from the pile of rags.

  It was surprising, how fast the fire was spreading.

  Josef got in the van and drove away.

  Selena opened her eyes. She had a blinding headache. It felt like someone had hit her with a hammer. Her hands were tied behind her back and she couldn't feel her fingers. She moved her legs and realized her feet were bound. She was facing the wall, lying on the mattress. She rolled over and saw the door was open. Crackling noises were coming from outside the room.

  She smelled smoke. She leveraged herself up against the wall until she was on her feet, hopped to the door, and looked out.

  The stairway that led to the ground floor and freedom was filled with smoke, lit from below by the glare of flames.

  Selena fought the fear that coursed through her body. She looked for a way to escape. She couldn't reach the window and she wouldn't have been able to break it anyway. There was no other exit from the floor but those stairs.

  The smoke was getting worse. It was hard to breathe. She coughed, and coughed again. She tried to think. If she stayed where she was, she'd die. Her only way out was down those stairs. She coughed again and stumbled. She hopped toward the stairwell, coughing and gasping for air. If she could get to the bottom, she might be able to get out before the flames got her.

  A fit of coughing racked her body. She stumbled and fell. She couldn't breathe.

  Nick, she thought. I love you.

  CHAPTER 28

  "There's a van," Ronnie said. "It pulled out from that building up ahead."

  "It's gotta be them," Lamont said.

  Ronnie put his foot on the gas. As they passed the building, a cloud of smoke ballooned outward from the open overhead door.

  "Smoke," Nick said. "Why would he set it on fire? Ronnie, stop."

  Ronnie slowed to a stop. "He'll get away."

  Nick pulled on his ear. He had a sick feeling.

  "What if Selena is in there?"

  "Oh, man," Lamont said. "I don't want to think that."

  "Go back," Nick said.

  Ronnie turned and drove back to the building. Black smoke roiled out onto the street. Inside, the dark smoke was laced with orange. Nick jumped out of the car and ran toward the opening.

  "Selena!" he yelled. "Selena, are you in there?"

  Ronnie and Lamont were out of the car. Inside the old factory, the first floor burned. Flames spread along the ceiling. Some of the posts holding up the second floor were on fire.

  Nick couldn't see Selena on the first floor. A set of stairs led to the second story.

  "Selena. Are you there? Selena!"

  Upstairs, almost unconscious, Selena heard Nick's voice.

  She tried to call out and began coughing, loud hacking sounds.

  Down below, Nick heard her.

  "Selena," he yelled. "I'm coming."

  He pulled his jacket over his head and ran into the building. The heat was fierce. The flames roared, sucking oxygen out of the air, out of his lungs. Nick picked a path through patches of fire to the foot of the stairs. The stairs were beginning to burn. He started up, praying the steps wouldn't collapse. The heat tried to scorch through his boots as he ran upward. Smoke hovered in a thick layer over the second floor. Tongues of flame reached through gaps in the floor. Coughing, Nick got down on his knees, where there was more oxygen. He saw Selena lying on the floor. He crawled over to her. He took a deep breath and stood and picked her up, trying not to breathe.

  She hung limp in his arms. Nick's eyes were tearing. He started down the stairs as fast as he dared, coughing. At the bottom, his face felt like it was on fire. Flames reached for him. He ran toward the open door and stum
bled out. Coughing and choking, he fell onto the ground.

  Ronnie scooped up Selena. Lamont helped Nick away from the burning building. With a splintering crash, the second floor collapsed in a cauldron of sparks and flame. Burning boards and beams crashed down onto the ground floor.

  The inside of the building was an inferno.

  Ronnie cut the zip ties away from Selena's wrists and ankles. She coughed and retched.

  "You're all right," Ronnie said. He began rubbing her wrists to bring back circulation. "Take it easy. You're okay."

  "Nick..."

  "He's fine. Don't worry."

  Lamont went to the Hummer and got two bottles of water. He brought one to Selena and the other to Nick. He poured some on Nick's head, then handed him the bottle.

  Nick drank and coughed.

  "Before you ask, she's okay. Man, you look like hell. Kind of like a roasted tomato."

  Nick coughed some more and drank the rest of the water in the bottle.

  "They left her to burn alive. What kind of evil bastards are we dealing with?"

  "Bad ones," Lamont said. "We'll find them."

  Selena was sitting on the running board of the Hummer. Nick came over to her and sat down. She put her arms around him.

  She began trembling.

  "I thought I was going to die. That I'd burn to death."

  "Shh, you're safe now. It's okay. You're all right."

  "I killed one of them."

  "Good," Nick said.

  Ronnie said, "I called Steph and told her about the van. She's trying to track it."

  Selena coughed. "They never said anything to me. I never saw them, until the end."

  In the distance, sirens sounded.

  "Getting a little hot," Nick said. "Can you stand up, Selena?"

  She coughed. He helped her to her feet.

  "I'm okay."

  "Ronnie, let's roll before the cops get here."

  Selena got into the rear seat of the Hummer. Nick got in beside her. Lamont jumped into the front. Ronnie put the car in gear and started off.

  As they drove away, the roof of the factory fell in, sending a towering cloud of smoke and flaming embers high into the air.

  CHAPTER 29

  Elizabeth looked at Nick and Selena and wondered how they'd managed to come out of that building alive. Selena seemed subdued. Elizabeth could never remember seeing her like that before. The side of her face was mottled with color, bruised from the blow that had knocked her out. Nick's eyelashes and eyebrows were singed. He looked as though he'd gotten a bad sunburn.