Maggie Lee (Book 21): The Hitwoman and the Fallen Angel

by Lynn, JB

  “Sounds a lot like a helicopter to me,” God remarked.

  I nodded, listening closely as the helicopter landed on the other side of the door.

  “Stand to the side,” God urged. “That way, if somebody comes in, you’ll be able to dash out.”

  Sometimes having the lizard around was actually helpful. I did as he suggested, pressing my back against the wall.

  A minute later, the door opened from the outside and a helmeted pilot shot into the stairwell and headed down the stairs quickly, without even noticing that I was standing there. I was able to stick my foot between the door and frame before it closed, and then climbed out onto the roof.

  The helicopter was silent now, the engine shut off.

  The door closed behind me. It occurred to me that it was now probably locked, and I was stuck on the roof.

  I wasn’t sure this was the best of plans.

  “Maybe you can figure out a way to sabotage the helicopter,” God suggested.

  “I don’t know anything about helicopters,” I told him.

  “Steal the key.”

  “I don’t think there’s an ignition key.”

  “You should check for one,” the lizard suggested.

  Since it was the only option I had at the moment, I moved to the helicopter and reached for the handle on the door. It wouldn’t open.

  “It’s locked,” I told him.

  “Then I think you should hide,” God said.

  “Hide. Hide. Hide,” Benny agreed.

  It was easy for the reptile and rodent to do, but a flat roof doesn’t exactly have hiding spots for a grown human. I went and crouched down behind an oversized metal box that contained a humming motor.

  “Now what?” I said.

  “Now we wait,” God declared.

  I really hoped we were in the right spot, and I really hoped that I came up with a plan because, at that moment, I didn’t feel confident that I could protect Angel, keep him safe, or save the heart.

  39

  “Down. Down. Down,” Benny requested.

  I carefully placed the white mouse down on the roof of the building.

  “Maybe I should be a stowaway,” God suggested.

  “A stowaway?” I asked, not really wanting to know where he was going with this line of thought.

  “I could stow away on the helicopter,” he said.

  “And what good would that do?” I said.

  He flicked his tale, signaling his annoyance, but he gave me no answer.

  I scanned the rooftop, looking for some sort of makeshift weapon, but everything seemed to be attached.

  “I can’t take them all on at once,” I muttered under my breath.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the door to the building swing open. I crouched down even lower and peered around the motor box, trying to see who was walking out.

  The pilot, still wearing his helmet, but he didn’t get inside.

  “I wonder what he’s waiting for,” I whispered.

  “I’m guessing the heart,” God whispered back.

  The pilot, as though sensing he was being watched, spun around to examine the rooftop. I ducked lower and held my breath, as though doing so might make me invisible.

  God crept around the corner and played lookout.

  “He’s looking the other way,” the lizard told me.

  Slowly, I lifted my head so that I could look at the pilot again.

  As I watched, he removed his helmet. I let out an audible gasp. I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Specifically, I couldn’t believe who I was seeing.

  Hearing me, he turned in my direction.

  His shock was as extreme as mine. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Me?” I retaliated. “What the hell are you doing here, Zeke?”

  “My job.”

  I looked at the helicopter, then to him. “You can fly that thing?”

  He nodded.

  “When did you learn to do that?”

  He shook his head. “The sheer volume of things you don’t know about me, Maggie, would astound you.”

  I nodded, thinking the same about myself. “Are you here to steal the heart?”

  His gaze narrowed. “How do you know about the heart?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to get Angel in trouble with Ms. Whitehat. “I hear things.”

  He stepped closer to me. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

  I shook my head; it wasn’t like I could explain that I was busy watching over the mobster’s nephew. “What have I gotten into? What have you gotten into, Zeke? Why are you stealing a heart?”

  He frowned at me. “I’m not stealing it, I’m transporting it.”

  “Oh, and I’m sure you think it’s all above board,” I mocked. “Everything that Whitehat does is, correct?”

  He winced. “Okay,” he admitted. “It’s a private transaction, so hence the private transportation.”

  “I don’t call theft a private transaction,” I told him angrily. I was so disappointed in him. I was disappointed he wasn’t the person that I thought he was, a good person stuck in a bad situation. He seemed to have no remorse about stealing an organ from a donor who was no doubt more eligible.

  “I’m not stealing it,” he insisted. “People are allowed to determine who they want the organs of their loved ones to go to. All I’m doing is facilitating someone’s wishes.”

  “Then why do you need Angel?” I asked.

  “What are you talking about?” He tilted his head and looked at me. “I don’t need him.”

  My stomach flipped nervously; he was telling the truth. He didn’t need Angel. He didn’t know what I was talking about in terms of a theft.

  “I think we’re in big trouble,” I began to tell him.

  But before I could get any further, the door from the building started to open.

  Zeke immediately pulled his helmet back on to disguise his features. I ducked down behind the engine box.

  God once again took up his role as the lookout. “He’s here,” the lizard told me.

  “Angel?” I asked on a whisper.

  “Angel. Dwayne. Fitz. And the one-armed guy,” the lizard confirmed, snapping his tail as he uttered each name.

  “Jim,” I whispered.

  “Change of plans,” I heard Fitz say.

  “Uh oh,” God muttered.

  I knew that couldn’t be good.

  40

  Peering over the engine box, I saw that Fitz was pointing a gun at Zeke.

  Zeke slowly raised his hands skyward.

  “We’re taking your bird,” Fitz announced.

  “You said nobody was going to get hurt,” Angel reminded him.

  “Yeah, well, plans change,” Fitz drawled.

  The man with one arm, Jim, grabbed the transplant cooler, emblazoned with a “Say yes to life!” sticker that Angel had been clutching to his chest.

  Angel didn’t let go. “What’s going on?” he asked. “You told me all you wanted was a helicopter. What do you want with this heart?”

  “Do you have any idea how much this heart is worth?” Jim asked. “It’s enough to keep us set for the rest of our lives.” He tugged harder on the cooler but Angel held on.

  “Give it over, Angel,” Dwayne ordered. “Unless you want to get hurt some more.”

  Fitz took his attention away from Zeke and turned the gun on Angel.

  “Even being in a hospital, they’ll never help you recover,” he threatened.

  Angel slowly released the cooler to the one-armed man.

  “Now, was that so hard?” Fitz asked.

  “You always were an idiot,” Dwayne said. “Did you really think that we needed you because of your rooftop access?”

  Angel looked at him, and I could see the confusion and hurt on his face.

  “Somebody needs that heart to live,” Angel said. “Take the chopper, just leave the heart.”

  “It was never about the hardware,” Dwayne said. “It was
always the heart we were after.”

  “But how could you have known that it would be here?” Angel asked.

  Fitz laughed. “Because I’m the guy who put the donor in a coma.”

  Dwayne began to walk toward the chopper, motioning for Zeke to stand aside. Zeke didn’t move.

  “Oh, this is not the time to play hero,” God muttered worriedly. “Just move out of the way.”

  Zeke stood his ground. Fitz turned the gun back on him. “Doesn’t matter to me if I shoot one more person.”

  For some reason, Zeke didn’t seem to care that his life was in danger. He just stood where he was, refusing to move.

  I cared a great deal about whether or not my old friend stayed alive. So I did the only thing I thought could help the situation. I revealed myself. “Hey!” I yelled. “Leave him alone!”

  Fitz turned on me and fired. The bullet ricocheted off the motor case, and I dropped back down to hide behind it. I peered around the corner a moment later to see that Zeke was fighting Dwayne and Angel had attempted to tackle Fitz.

  Jim, the one-armed man, stood off to the side holding the cooler and watching the other men battle.

  “Steal the heart,” God urged. “Do it now while he’s not paying attention.”

  For some reason, one that I will never understand, I chose to take his advice. Maybe it was because of Armani’s “yes” prediction. After all, the cooler literally had the word “yes” right on it. I ran full speed, up behind the one-armed man, poked his back with the fruit skewer, and snatched the cooler right out of his grasp.

  I kept running as he started to give chase. We raced around and around the motor box, in some sort or deranged Duck, Duck, Goose game. Meanwhile, Zeke was getting pummeled by Dwayne, and Fitz was kicking Angel in the ribs. The good guys were definitely losing this battle.

  But then the door from the building burst open. My favorite redhead was first through, followed closely by Gino. Patrick aimed his gun at Fitz. “Police! Back off.”

  Fitz went to take a shot at Patrick and Patrick dropped him with one bullet. Meanwhile, Gino decided to rescue me from Jim. He tackled the guy smoothly.

  That left me available to help Zeke.

  Without thinking, I ran full speed at Dwayne and swung the cooler containing the heart at his head. It connected with a hollow thunk. He released Zeke, who was still wearing his helmet, and turned on me.

  “Run, you biped idiot!” God screamed. “Run!”

  41

  There weren’t a lot of places where I could run away from Dwayne, so I just raced around and around the helicopter.

  I looked over to see if Zeke, or Patrick, or Angel was going to come to my rescue, but it didn’t appear that anyone was. Both Angel and Zeke were lying on the ground, and Patrick had his hands full pointing his gun at Fitz, and Gino was still handling Jim.

  Benny, bless him, decided that he was going to be the one to save me.

  “Leave her alone! Leave her alone! Leave her alone,” he shouted, charging Dwayne.

  Of course, the man didn’t even realize the mouse was running at him, until he started to claw his way up his leg.

  Without even a second thought, Dwayne kicked him off. Benny went flying through the air.

  I heard him scream, and then nothing.

  Dwayne turned back toward me. I ran to the edge of the building and dangled the cooler over the edge.

  “Back off,” I told him. “Or I’ll drop your payday.”

  Dwayne froze. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “You can take your friends and leave,” I suggested.

  “Not without the heart,” he said, extending a hand. “Give it to me.”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re going to let someone die just so that you can win this fight?” Dwayne asked.

  I hesitated, not knowing who the heart was for. Was I doing something wrong by not handing it over to him?

  “Don’t do it, Maggie,” Zeke yelled.

  I wasn’t sure if he meant I shouldn’t drop it or I shouldn’t hand it over, but his words provided a distraction as Dwayne searched for their source.

  That gave Patrick the opening he needed. “On the ground,” the redhead shouted, pointing his weapon at Dwayne.

  Dwayne hesitated, then reached behind his back.

  Patrick fired. Dwayne crumpled to the ground as the bullet caught him in the chest.

  Fitz used Patrick’s attention being elsewhere to his advantage. He charged the redhead, and they grappled for his gun.

  “Do something,” God urged.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out Aunt Leslie’s shiv again, set the cooler down, and charged toward the fighting men, not wanting Patrick to lose this fight. I jumped on Fitz’s back and began blindly stabbing at his face with the fruit skewer.

  The three of us fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

  “Bite his ear,” God yelled.

  With my arms wrapped around the man’s neck, I decided it was probably a pretty good attack strategy, so I opened my mouth and chomped down.

  He let out a scream of pain and released his hold on the gun. As soon as he did that, I let go of him and scrambled away, leaving Patrick to point his weapon at the man.

  “On the ground,” Patrick panted. Instead of obeying, the man charged him. Patrick had no choice but to pull the trigger. Fitz crumpled to the ground.

  It was over. I rushed to Angel’s side to check to see if he, too, was gone, but I could tell that he was still breathing.

  “He’s unconscious,” I told Patrick, who had slowly gotten to his feet and was surveying the carnage.

  Patrick didn’t move.

  “He needs medical care,” I told the redhead urgently.

  I followed my murder mentor’s gaze and realized that Dwayne was leveling a gun at him.

  “Gotta love bulletproof vests,” Dwayne bragged.

  A shot rang out, blood and skull sprayed, and he collapsed to the ground.

  “No bulletproof helmets,” Gino quipped.

  I looked over to see him kneeling on Jim, his gun arm still extended.

  “Thanks,” Patrick said to him.

  “Just doin’ my job,” the bodyguard said gruffly.

  Angel groaned.

  “He needs help,” I told the other men.

  “I’ll take care of him,” Gino offered.

  Patrick nodded. “And I’ll take care of them.” He pointed to the fallen thugs.

  At that moment, the helicopter blades began to thump. The wind almost knocked me to my knees. I shielded my eyes and saw that Zeke was getting ready to pilot the chopper away.

  My eyes went to where I’d dropped the cooler with the heart, but it was gone.

  I watched wordlessly as he took off without so much as a wave.

  Patrick shook his head in disbelief, aiming his gun at the chopper.

  “You’re not going to stop him,” Gino called out. “You could hurt somebody below if it crashes.”

  Defeated, Patrick lowered his gun and I let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to be shooting at Zeke.

  The detective glanced around at the collection of dead bodies. “This was all for nothing,” he muttered.

  Knowing that Angel was alive, I disagreed, but I didn’t say anything.

  42

  Gino punched something into his phone and a minute later nodded his approval.

  He and Patrick exchanged a look.

  Gino walked over to Angel and picked him up in a fireman’s carry. It was a pretty impressive move considering Angel is such a big guy, but I guess I should stop being surprised at what Gino is able to pull off.

  “You have to get out of here, Mags,” Patrick told me. “Do exactly what Gino tells you.”

  I nodded my understanding.

  “Don’t forget the mouse,” God urged.

  I glanced around and saw that Benny was limping toward me. I scooped him up and examined him. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  �
��Yes. Yes. Yes,” he said weakly.

  “You were very brave,” I told him.

  “He was,” God said grudgingly. “Very.”

  “Can you get the door?” Gino asked, his voice strained from his exertion.

  I hurried to open it so he could get through with Angel.

  “Don’t come back, Mags,” Patrick warned.

  I looked at him standing there among the bodies and wondered how he was ever going to explain the situation.

  I pulled open the door, and Gino, staggering under the weight of Angel, went through. I looked back at Patrick one more time and offered him a weak smile. He didn’t give me one in return.

  When I stepped through the door, I saw that Gino was already lowering Angel onto a stretcher carried by two men wearing hospital scrubs. He spoke to them in a low voice. I couldn’t make out the words but they nodded their understanding and whisked Angel away.

  Gino grabbed my elbow to steady me as I swayed dizzily, looking down the stairs. “We have to get out of here before the cops arrive.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with him. We hurried together through the hospital. He never let go of my arm and I got the distinct impression he was worried I was going to pass out on him at any moment.

  “We shouldn’t walk out together,” I told him as we approached the door.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Why not?”

  “Because the reporter, Jack Stern, was out there when I came in,” I told him. “I don’t want to raise his suspicions by walking out with Delveccio’s bodyguard.”

  Gino nodded his understanding and dropped his hand away from my elbow. “You’re okay to drive?”

  I nodded. “I was just a little lightheaded after all the excitement before.”

  He chuckled. “Excitement.”

  I leaned close to him and whispered, “It’s better than saying carnage.”

  He nodded solemnly. “I’m glad you called, Maggie.”

  I nodded. I was, too, but things certainly hadn’t worked out the way I had hoped.

  “Ladies first,” he said, pointing toward the door. While I walked out, he peeled away at a ninety-degree angle, making chitchat with the first person he encountered.