Loki seemed to have a plan though. His client was going to be there, the only woman at the meeting. And he’d told Chang to fix a night scope to his PGM.
-o-
Zeph looked a bit weird, covered from head to toe in a black rain poncho, but it masked his shape and his distinctive dreads as he piloted the Zodiac to the Vlothaven. Katla didn’t want another Thooft on her hands, and Zeph was seasoned enough not to panic when all hell would break loose. She wore a long warm coat over a silk dancer’s catsuit and a short pleated skirt, with ankle-height leather steel toed boots. The wide silk blouse over the catsuit would billow out, masking her upper body. She expected to be frisked, so she only wore her rings and her garrotte bracelet.
The Kau Hong would probably be out in full force, so if Chang would mess up, she’d probably die tonight.
“Nervous, sista?” Zeph looked at her, his gloved right hand on the outboard’s handle, his left hand on the guide rope that circled the Zodiac. Between his feet was one of her waterproof holdalls. The Rastafarian seemed changed, as if he had aged years in just the last weeks. Perhaps that was what happened when you got pistol-whipped and shot with tranquilliser darts.
“I’m fine, Zeph.” She folded her arms. “The only thing that bothers me is having to rely on others.”
“I&I won’t let you down, sista.”
“I wasn’t talking about you. You’ve proven yourself a loyal friend.”
“The sniper?”
She nodded. “Having him for back-up is probably necessary, but that doesn’t make me feel better about being unarmed and in his killing jar.”
“You trust him?”
“Well, I don’t think he’ll shoot me on purpose, but his goals are not mine. I just want these people to either buy me out at my price or leave my firm alone.” Katla shrugged. “Chang has orders to take revenge for the killing of Bram’s blind friend.”
“Yun’s friends hire Chang?”
“Tsui Pak Yun was an advisor to a Chinese triad. Anyway, let’s hope the Kau Hong play by the rules. If you get the signal, and all hell breaks loose, use the night scope and watch the building. Try to be in position to pick me up.”
“I do more than try, sista. Depend on me.”
That was the trouble, Katla thought. My body is fucked up and my back-up consists of a junkie sniper with his own agenda and a Rastafarian whose main experience with violence was being on the receiving end of a pistol whipping. And we’re about to take on a gang of hardened criminals.
Zeph pointed over her shoulder and she turned around to watch as the dinghy entered the harbour.
Showtime.
-o-
Lau heard the puttering of an outboard and walked to the quay, where a Zodiac glided into view. Sieltjes was standing in the bow, wide stance, leaning on her hospital cane. The person piloting the Zodiac was covered in a black slicker, face hidden by the peak of the hood that covered his head, looking ominously like the ferryman of the dead. As the Zodiac came close to one of the ladders, the pilot executed a slow turn to allow the side of the dinghy to hug the quay. Sieltjes grabbed one of the steel rungs and stepped on the ladder, using her cane to push the bow of the dinghy away from the quay. The pilot turned the throttle again and aimed the Zodiac back at the mouth of the harbour, while Sieltjes ascended the ladder, dragging her right leg behind. When she reached the quay, Lau noticed her swollen eye, masked by the make-up. He hid his smile and held out his hands, one for the cane, one to help her up. Sieltjes climbed onto the quay, ignoring his help. She limped in the direction of the office. Lau trailed behind her, wondering again if they were right about her. Her disability seemed to indicate that she’d be barely able to walk without the cane’s assistance. They entered the warm lobby of the office, where two Blue Lanterns guarded the stairs and barred her way.
“I have a meeting here,” Sieltjes told the young men. “You’re blocking my way.”
Lau passed her and halted in front of her. “I’ll have to frisk you.”
“You?” Sieltjes looked him up and down. “You think your blood-stained paws are going to touch me?”
“My boss insists.”
Sieltjes smirked. “I can imagine you volunteered. The excitement is showing in your pants.”
Lau felt the heat in his face and the desire to throttle the bitch must’ve shown in his eyes, because her smirk widened.
She tossed him her hospital cane. “Here,” she said. “Make sure it’s not a lethal weapon.”
While Lau studied the cane, Sieltjes took a keyring and a smartphone from her pocket and shrugged. Her coat fell to the floor. Underneath she wore a silk blouse and a pleated shirt. He handed her back the cane and she used it to walk a circle so he could check her front and back. “See, no pockets. You can check the pockets of my coat, but you won’t find more than lint.”
Leaving the coat on the floor, she limped around him and gestured with her cane at the Blue Lanterns. “You two, get out of my way.”
Lau gave them the nod and they moved aside. Sieltjes started up the stairs, dragging her right leg. Fingering his Derringer, Lau followed her up the stairs. She wouldn’t die as easily as Vermeer. He’d shoot out her kneecaps first, then use his knife on her. She’d beg for him to kill her.
Arrogant bitch.
-o-
Chang watched the Zodiac drift near the mouth of the harbour, the hulking pilot still covered by the black raincoat. Looked like the Rastafarian, but he couldn’t be sure. He used the spotting scope to check the woman with the cane. He’d seen Loki’s client before, but he struggled to remember where it was. The hatch clanked behind him and Manfred clambered into the cabin.
“Sorry,” the gunsmith mumbled. “I didn’t think it would make so much noise.”
“I doubt if they heard it,” Chang said. “But sound carries across water.”
He aimed the spotting scope at the dinghy, noticed the pilot, probably been alerted by the noise, was using his own scope and looking almost directly at him. Looked like he was using a night scope, maybe a Javelin. Chang smiled. The big Rastafarian had good instincts. He moved the spotting scope back to the lobby of the office, where the woman had removed her coat and dropped it on the floor. Looked like the boys wanted to feel her up, but she was not about to comply. She had courage, he’d have to give her that. She disappeared up the stairs and came back into view at the top of the stairs.
The bright neon illuminated her face and again he was struck by the feeling he’d seen her before. Although she hadn’t looked like a battered housewife, like she did now.
-o-
Exaggerating her limp, Katla climbed the stairs to the office where the rest of the Kau Hong waited. Vermeer’s killer walked close behind, no doubt checking out her ass. That was fine, as long as he didn’t pay close attention to her keys and smartphone.
The door to the office was open and another face from the file looked at her. Nicholas Wang studied her bloodshot and puffy right eye.
“Good evening, Ms. Sieltjes.” Nicholas grinned as if their encounter had been a rough game of tag on a playground. “How is the eye?”
“Pretty good, actually.” She smiled back. “How is the arm, Nicholas?”
“Couple of stitches.” He ushered her into the office. “No real harm done.”
“That’s too bad.”
Katla brushed past him and surveyed the killing jar. Gene Zhang sat behind Bootz’ desk, looking oily and insignificant compared to his enforcers. But then, he was the brains, they were the muscle. Next to him sat a thin man with sleepy eyes. Ri Lang, the mediator. The two young thugs from the stairwell joined two others standing nervously in the corner of the office. Eight guys, but only Nicholas was between her and the door.
Katla stopped surveying the office and looked at Zhang, who motioned for her to sit down on the other side of the desk.
A visitor in her own offices.
Katla sat down and placed her cane between her legs. Zhang studied her, not saying anything. Probably tr
ying to unnerve her. Katla stayed motionless and silent herself, studying him back. He looked like an accountant, but then, so did Heinrich Himmler. Never underestimate the ordinary ones, especially if they have a small army of loyal followers.
“Well, Ms. Sieltjes,” Ri spoke. “You weren’t agreeable to our last offer.”
Katla smirked, but didn’t reply.
“We drafted new papers, hoping our terms will be agreeable now.”
Katla held out her hand. Ri handed her the papers while Gene Zhang kept studying her. She studied the papers, a straightforward contract signing over her assets to a company called Kristiansand N.V., which didn’t sound Chinese at all. The amount offered was one point nine million.
“The money?”
“Do you accept checks?” Zhang smiled, his small teeth too perfectly straight to be natural.
Katla held out her hand.
Zhang handed her a Waterman fountain pen. “Your signature, please.”
Katla unscrewed the cap, held the pen over the papers and said, “My hand always starts shaking if I don’t get paid first.”
Zhang studied her as she put down the uncapped fountain pen and held out her hand.
“You want the check before you sign?”
“I like to verify the check before I sign, yes. You could try to force my hand by killing another accountant, but that might make me smudge my signature. And I think we both agree on avoiding further bloodshed, don’t we?”
Ri fingered his sleeve and Katla smiled at him. She could plunge the fountain pen in his eye before he could draw the knife from his sleeve. Zhang shook his head, and handed her a check. Katla took a picture of the check with her smartphone. One tap on the screen and the smartphone mailed the picture to her bank, who were ready with their instant deposit. She put the phone down on the desk and handed him back the check.
“Thank you.”
A soft ding sounded as the bank completed the transaction and confirmed to her smartphone that the funds where in her account. She picked up the Waterman and signed the papers with a flourish. “There you go.”
Zhang pulled the papers towards him and looked at her signature, then took the check and put it back in his pocket with a predatory smile.
Katla grinned at him. “You can keep it. I cashed it already.”
His smile faltered.
Katla transferred the fountain pen to her left hand and showed him the smartphone. “The money is already on its way to my private accounts in the Caymans. And this smartphone is now pretty useless.”
Katla slammed the phone on the desk, where the screen cracked and the razor-sharp back of the phone came off. Zhang bellowed in rage and reached for the phone, but she seized his wrist and pulled him forward while she buried the fountain pen deep in his left eye. While Zhang screamed in pain and reared back with the pen sticking from his eye, Katla closed her eyes and pressed the button on the car fob attached to her keyring.
A dull thumping sounded behind the building and all the lights went out.
Katla opened her eyes in the darkness and turned around with her keys in her right hand and the hospital cane in her left hand. Lau was standing behind her, a small pistol aimed at her head. He threw back his head to avoid the swinging cane, but the handle whacked his hand and sent his pistol flying. He spun around and aimed a high kick at her head, but she blocked his shin with the cane. Whirling around with the extended cane Katla went for the mediator drawing a blade. The handle of the cane cracked against Ri’s temple and his blade clattered on the floor behind the desk. Lau grabbed her from behind, but she dropped the cane, grabbed the razor-sharp back of the smartphone and cut his hand. He released her and stumbled back. Leaning on the desk she kicked backwards, hitting him in the chest. Lau went sprawling. Behind him, one of the young men was aiming a gun at her, but she grabbed the cane and threw it spinning across the room, hitting him in the face.
Lau sprang to his feet and moved in her direction, his arms flying up to cover his head as the windows shattered, all three in a row.
Finally. Chang had taken his time.
Everybody turned towards the shards of glass tinkling on the floor, except for Lau, who ducked for cover behind the desk.
Katla turned for the door, but Nicholas vaulted the desk like a gymnast, kicking her in the ribs. One of the fractured ribs on her right side snapped and she cried out in pain. Nicholas didn’t follow up, but one of the younger thugs dove for her legs and tackled her to the floor. Her attacker climbed on top of her, but Katla struck him in the face with her elbow, and followed up with a jab of her sharpened keys in his eyes. He shrieked and reared up, and the top of his head exploded. Katla twisted her hip and his body slipped sideways.
Dull thwocks sounded as bullets hit flesh and men screamed as they were hit, some screams cut short by more bullets. A rare stray bullet whined over her and hit the far wall, splintering the panelling. Framed pictures came crashing down and showered her with broken glass.
Nicholas was between her and the door, so Katla stayed on her back and used her feet and elbows to scramble backward to the file cabinet in the far corner. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Nicholas on his belly, pushing his elbows into the carpet to steady the big gun in his hands. She threw the sharp back of the smartphone at his face like a shuriken. Nicholas shielded his face with his arm, then cursed in anger as the sharp rectangle cut into his hand.
A foot stomped down next to her head and she punched up with her sharpened keys, hitting the man in the balls. He doubled over, and she pulled up her knees, grabbed his jacket and rammed the arches of her feet in his neck. With her feet clamped under his jaw, Katla pushed his bleeding pelvis up and straightened her legs at the same time, her right leg and left knee screaming in agony. Her attacker flew over her and landed face forward between her and Nicky, just as Nicky fired. Two bullets thwocked into the dead body between them and Nicky cursed loudly.
A dead body crashed into her. The weight pitched her against the wall and pushed her broken ribs inward. She gasped in pain, bright spots flashing before her eyes. Groaning with the effort she pulled the corpse in front of her.
Nicholas leant over his dead buddy and fired twice again. She could feel the impact of the bullets in the dead man, but they didn’t seem to penetrate.
Someone behind her grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up.
Katla released the corpse, her keys falling from her hand. Now unarmed, she felt some of her hair being pulled out of her head by the roots and screamed in anger and pain. Her assailant’s arm went around her neck to strangle her. She ignored the hand in her hair and pushed her chin into her chest to block his arm. Her left hand reached behind her and she grabbed his crotch, squeezing down hard as she whipped back her head and butted him in the face. Holding tight to his balls, Katla turned and rammed her right elbow in his ribs. Gasping in pain, her attacker stumbled backward into the room. His head snapped sideways as Chang shot him from across the harbour, spraying her with brain matter and bone fragments.
As the headless body slumped to the floor, Nicholas reared up on his knees, aiming his pistol two-handed and yelling in Chinese.
Katla dropped backwards to the floor and scooted under the small table in the corner with the telex machine. Pulling up her legs, she planted her feet underneath the table and tilted it forward into the room. Another sniper bullet splintered the wall. As the table with the telex pitched forward, Katla braced her shoulders against the wall and extended her legs, pushing the table away from her as hard as she could. The table with the telex flew a few meters through the air and crashed down on something soft, muffling the impact.
In the small space that used to house the telex table, Katla crawled up with her back against the wall, the file cabinet on her left hiding her from the sniper rifle covering the windows. She tried to regulate her breathing. Each time she panted a burning stab of pain skewered her heart and her lungs felt like they were filled with smoke.
Katla closed her eyes and
felt herself faint, but she struggled against the pain and opened her eyes. The small office was filled with moans and bodies lying haphazardly on and over each other. The smell of burnt powder and excrement was thick in the air. No doubt some had shit their pants. Or their bowels had been ripped open by the sniper bullets.
Woozily she looked around. Nicholas was out, arms with the gun still angled towards her, the telex machine resting on his lower back. She didn’t spot Lau. Zhang and Ri were both shot, their bodies slumped over Bootz’ desk.
Chang had stopped firing.
Her hospital cane was lying in front of the file cabinet.
Crouching down stiffly, Katla fished for the hospital cane, then spotted a Glock and raked the gun towards her with the cane. With the heavy pistol in her hand, Katla looked around the room again. By the window was a man on his back, moaning. She took careful aim, her arm shaking from the adrenalin, and shot him twice in the chest. Another movement to her far left, someone crawling away. She fired a few rounds in the direction and the movement stopped. Just for good measure, she aimed at Nicholas and fired a bullet in his head, then emptied the gun in the bodies strewn across the floor.
Combat fatigue weighed down her limbs and her arms hung by her sides. The empty Glock slipped from her slack fingers and she looked past the file cabinet to the blown out windows.
Chang must’ve seen everything she’d done. He’d probably figure by now that she was more than just a director of a shipping firm. He might even entertain the notion that she was Loki. If he did, he might want to eliminate the competition.
Moment of truth.
Katla took a deep breath and staggered away from the protection of the file cabinet. Suppressing the instinct to make herself into a smaller target, she halted in the middle of the office and surveyed the carnage, standing still with her head held high to make sure Chang would have a clear shot.
Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) Page 31