Rise of the Enemy

by Rob Sinclair

  The head of the stairs that led down to the warehouse floor was off from the walkway, starting in between the two office spaces and snaking down to the right. From where I was, looking towards staircase, I had a good view of the gathering below.

  Schuster took a step forward and then the man to the right of Lena did the same. They carried on moving cautiously, one small step at a time, until they met in the middle. A brief conversation ensued and then an exchange. I couldn’t make out what had changed hands. Something small. Schuster stuffed his left hand inside his coat pocket and then began to retreat, still facing Lena and her men.

  When he reached his flankers there was a final trade of words and then Schuster turned around and walked towards the exit. His two men initially stayed in position, but then the one on the left turned and began to follow Schuster. Finally, the third man began to move, creeping backwards.

  I had to follow Schuster. Seeing Lena again had reminded me just how much I loathed her. She may have helped me to escape from the scene of Mackie’s demise, but nothing she’d ever done had really been for my benefit. I wanted to kill her. But as much as I wanted to stay and finish off Lena and her cronies, I couldn’t let Schuster get away again. I had to believe that Schuster now had all he needed to locate Angela. Her life was very probably going to be over soon if I didn’t act. I couldn’t allow that to happen. I had to be the one to find her. I still didn’t know exactly what I’d do when I did, but I couldn’t let her be killed.

  Lena would just have to wait.

  I went to move backwards. But my shoe slipped on the dusty floor and my elbow smacked off the part-opened door. Schuster’s man, still edging towards the exit, looked up towards me again. I knew this time he’d not only heard but also seen me.

  Lena and her men spun around too, the two on the outside of her already pulling up their weapons. Schuster had exited the warehouse already and his first man didn’t stop to turn around but carried on out of the door. I wanted to go after them. But my chance had been blown. If I went back out of the fire escape now, they’d all be waiting for me by the time I got to the bottom.

  I had no choice but to stand and fight.

  I got to my feet and lunged forwards to the top of the stairs. Schuster’s second man was already turning around to head to the exit, following after Schuster and his colleague, clearly not wanting to get caught up in the melee that was about to ensue. That was fine by me. One less target only increased my chances.

  By the time I reached the stairs, I’d already set myself for firing. The two men holding the automatic weapons were ready to pull on their triggers, but Lena and the other man were still processing their next move.

  I fired two shots in quick succession. One of the bullets hit the man on the left in the chest, the other in his neck. He went down before he’d had the chance to pull on his trigger.

  But I wasn’t going to get to them all that easily.

  I heard a crack as the man on the right opened fire with his machine gun. He wasn’t holding back. A succession of shots blasted from his automatic weapon and the bullets whizzed and ricocheted nearby. I ducked and rolled forward, hoping my quick movement would make me a harder target.

  As I came up against the guardrail at the top of the stairs, I’d already positioned myself for the next shot. I fired off four times, not wanting to take any risks. Only one of the four hit the target. That was enough. The man went down, a randomly aimed spray of automatic fire coming from his gun as he fell to the ground.

  Lena and her last man were both rushing for cover, heading under the mezzanine level where I was located. I adjusted my aim as best as I could and fired off the rest of my clip. I hadn’t the time to measure up properly for the shots. I’d wanted to get to them before they found cover. I heard Lena cry out and I knew that I must have hit her. Her shouting and moaning, though, told me that she wasn’t yet down for good.

  But they were both now out of sight underneath me.

  I began to reload but heard a bang and a clank from below that made me jump. One of them was firing up at me from underneath. The walkway I was on and the stairs were a metal mesh. The holes weren’t big enough to let through a bullet but I didn’t want to stick around to find out exactly how good they were at cushioning automatic rifle fire.

  Looking down through the mesh, I couldn’t spot the shooter at all. But I could make out Lena’s crumpled body, a streak of blood behind her from where she’d crawled from the open space to shelter. The shooter, her last man, must have already been in cover. From my position, I could see nothing of him at all.

  Another shot rang out, and this time the clank as the bullet hit the metal walkway came right next to my foot, the vibrations shooting up into my body. The floor had buckled upwards, a neat outline visible where the bullet was lodged. If I stayed where I was, it would only be a matter of time before he got me.

  I moved quickly across the walkway that ran right along the front of the office area. The two extra clips I’d taken from Mary were in my pocket. I took one of them and reloaded the gun as I moved, heading for the far end of the walkway.

  And Lena’s man leapt out in front me.

  Only then did I spot a second staircase at that far end. He’d slunk up there, hoping to come at me from behind. The look of surprise on his face at seeing me running toward him must have matched my own.

  I began to raise my gun. But he’d already set his position before he’d come out into the open. I instinctively ducked and twisted to my right, hoping to get the chance to retreat.

  As I did so he fired.

  My quick manoeuvre saved me and I managed to get three shots off without even looking. But my quick change of direction threw my balance off. I tried to steady myself. My body thumped against the guardrail that ran alongside the walkway. I reached out with my free hand, trying to grab the rail, but my fingers slipped. With the bulk of my weight still in motion, I could do nothing to stop my momentum. I toppled over the edge, my arms flailing uselessly as I fell toward the ground ten feet below.

  I had no time to prepare myself for the landing. I slammed into the floor, shoulder and hip first. The short distance was the only thing that saved my life. But the shock of the landing was enough to leave me on the deck dazed, unable to move.

  From the lack of further fire from the man on the stairs I could only assume I’d been lucky and hit him, otherwise he’d have had no problem finishing me off.

  Lying on the ground, I looked around the warehouse floor, my vision blurred. As I started to regain myself, I spotted Lena over in the near corner, underneath the mezzanine level. She was sitting upright against a bare shelving unit, breathing heavily, her right arm slung across her body, cradling the wound in her left shoulder.

  I tried to sit up but it was too much too soon. I shouted out from the pain that tore through me. The whole right side of my body was throbbing. The gun I’d been carrying had been thrown from my grip and was lying two yards in front of me, towards where Lena was sitting.

  I concentrated and picked myself up, gritting my teeth. Crouching low, more because of the pain and stiffness than anything else, I crept forward towards my gun, my body awkward and unwilling.

  Lena’s right hand came away from her stricken shoulder. With all the layers she had on I couldn’t see down to the wound. But the way her dark jacket was glistening in the dim light told me she was soaked in blood. Her hand moved down towards her side.

  Towards the gun that lay by her.

  She wasn’t going to get the chance to use it.

  From somewhere within, I suddenly found clarity of movement and thought. I leap into action. Ignoring the fallen gun I’d been heading for, I rushed straight at Lena. She was trying to ready herself as I reached her. I grabbed hold of her right hand and slammed it against the metal shelves that lay behind her. She cried out and let go of the weapon.

  Without giving her a chance to recover, I punched her left shoulder twice in quick succession. She screamed in pain. But I wasn
’t about to start playing nice. Months of pent-up anger, hatred, vengeance had built up in me. And she was one of the biggest causes. Whatever sordid attraction I’d felt for her in my time of despair was long gone now. She’d used me. She’d had Mackie killed. I wanted to hurt her.

  I sat on top of her and dug my knuckle into her stricken shoulder. She cried out again but I held my hand there, grinding into the wound that lay beneath her clothes.

  ‘Where’s Grainger?’ I shouted.

  Despite her position and the obvious pain, her steely resolve didn’t waiver. She stared at me coldly, only blinking each time the pain got too much.

  ‘I’m going to make this real easy for you,’ I said. ‘You gave Schuster something. I’m guessing you’ve given up where Grainger is. Tell me where she is and I’ll make the pain stop.’

  Her hard glare didn’t shift. Her mouth stayed firmly shut.

  I grabbed the collar of her coat with my right hand and pulled her close to me.

  ‘Where is she!’ I screamed.

  But she didn’t respond at all. Didn’t react.

  I slapped her hard in the face with the back of my left hand. Then I pulled back my arm, balled my fist. Ready to strike. I wanted to punch her. Wipe that look off her face. I wanted to punch her again and again and again until there was nothing left of her.

  I knew that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Not like I had with Schuster. I didn’t lose it often. But I didn’t think I could control myself around her. I could do nothing to Lena that I’d feel bad about. But then nothing I could do would bring satisfaction. Beating her to death wasn’t going to make all the bad things she’d done go away. As hard as it was, I had to rise above it.

  Some of the steel that had been in her eyes before had gone. Maybe she finally understood that she wasn’t going to win this time.

  But I also understood something. I understood that she was never going to tell me where Grainger was.

  ‘Just tell me one thing,’ I said. ‘Why Mackie? Why did you kill Mackie? Of all the things you could have traded, why that?’

  Lena began to laugh. Actually more of a cackle.

  ‘You still don’t understand anything about me, do you?’ she said with pride.

  Somehow, despite everything, she’d once again managed to trump me. I hated her for it. I hated her more than anything.

  ‘We didn’t kill Mackie,’ she said, enjoying her moment. ‘We didn’t have to. The Americans were more than willing to do it themselves when they found out what we were offering. It’s so much more fun watching you take each other out, fighting over something, somebody that we don’t even care about.’

  And in that moment I finally realised what drove Lena. We’d discussed ourselves many times during my captivity but I hadn’t truly known her then. I did now. She didn’t do what she did out of duty to her country or her superiors or her family or anything as seemingly noble as that. What drove her was destruction, chaos and other people’s pain. It was as simple as that. She thrived on the pain of others.

  I pushed her away from me, pressing hard on her left shoulder, eliciting another cry. This had gone on too long. There would never be a satisfactory conclusion. I stood up and strode back to my gun, picked it up, turned around and aimed at her head.

  She began to laugh again.

  ‘You can’t save Grainger now,’ she said. ‘You’ll never be able to save her.’

  I ignored her jibes and walked back up to her. I crouched down by her side and pushed the barrel of the gun onto her forehead.

  ‘Even if you get to her before the Americans do, she’s dead,’ Lena said. ‘You’re all dead. You don’t think we’d just let those CIA pigs walk away from this, do you?’

  Despite myself, I just couldn’t help but be sucked in.

  ‘What did you do?’ I said.

  ‘The cherry on top,’ she said, a beaming smile on her face. ‘We don’t do deals. You should know that by now.’

  This time I couldn’t help myself. I threw a punch into the side of her head. I got to my feet and unleashed a kick into her ribs, then another. She doubled over and coughed and spluttered.

  ‘She’s dead!’ Lena screamed, not lifting her head. ‘You can’t save her now. You can’t save anyone!’

  I pulled the gun up, aiming for the spot between her eyes.

  ‘This is it, Carl,’ she said, looking up. ‘This is your chance. Do it!’

  I lowered my aim and fired a single shot. The bullet hit Lena in the gut. She winced and her body creased over onto the floor. She began to cry and moan. I walked up to her, knelt down and put my face to her ear.

  ‘I’m not letting you off that easily,’ I said, my voice calm and quiet.

  Both of her hands were up against the wound on her gut. She was writhing on the floor.

  ‘They say it’s one of the most painful ways to die,’ I said. ‘But I’m sure a woman of your experience knows that.’

  I rummaged around inside her coat and found what I was looking for. Car keys.

  ‘The bullet has penetrated your stomach. That’s what I was aiming for. You’ll bleed to death. You’re going to die, Lena. And it’s going to be slow and very, very painful.’

  I got back to my feet and walked away.

  As I reached the door, I heard her call out to me. But I didn’t take any notice. I was done with her. I carried on out without once looking back.

  Chapter 49

  When I got outside I noticed that only one of the three cars had gone. Two of them must have belonged to the Russians. I pressed the open button on the remote fob and saw the lights blink on the vehicle to the left. A brand new BMW X5. Russia was one of the largest markets in the world for luxury cars. Obviously working for the government was a big money-spinner.

  I opened the driver’s door and climbed in. I pushed the clutch with my foot and pressed the start button. The engine roared into life. As I reversed around to face the outer gates, I pulled out Chris’s phone and went to the tracking app. The red blinking light was still there, still moving. I just hoped Schuster was going to be doing his own dirty work. If he was, he would lead me to Grainger. It was the only hope I had left.

  Lena’s words to me had been cryptic, but it didn’t take much to figure what she’d meant. Schuster and the CIA thought they were getting Grainger on a plate. They thought they’d be able to kill her, or whisk her away and do what they wanted with her. And they’d been happy to trade me and to kill Mackie, supposedly an ally, to get that.

  But Lena had other ideas. She wasn’t going to let the CIA just walk away. My guess was that they were being set up for an ambush. Schuster, his men and Grainger were probably all on the list to go. Why would Lena pass up such a good opportunity to kill off her competition?

  The tyres screeched as I sped away from the warehouse grounds. Time really wasn’t on my side now. I had to catch up with Schuster and fast. The red dot had headed further out of town and was worming its way around the Tret’e Transportnoye Kol’tso, the middle of three ring roads that circumvented the centre of Moscow.

  The traffic was building as the working day drew to a close and I had to weave in and out of lanes to stop Schuster’s vehicle edging further away. I’d been driving for twenty minutes when the dot, only about half a mile from me, pulled off the ring road and headed further out of town, toward the Khoroshyovo-Mnyovniki district.

  I’d never been to the area before but it appeared to be mainly residential. After initially having a suburban feel, with detached and terraced houses, the area changed. Large residential towers rose upwards on either side of the road. They were a mixture of modern and old, the Soviet-era concrete unmistakeable. Most of the buildings were much like the monoliths in Omsk where the safe house had been. Except these buildings were still in good shape and in full use.

  Looking down at the phone, I saw the red dot had finally stopped. It was just a short distance from me. A couple of minutes’ drive. Feeling the buzz of anticipation, I pushed down harder on t
he accelerator.

  I took a left turning and headed toward the position where the dot had stopped. I followed a narrow, winding road that led up to two concrete apartment blocks. They were each about ten storeys tall, their L-shapes mirror images of each other, with a small car park and grass area between them.

  The dot wasn’t indicating the car park but the back of the nearest block. I carried on along the road, ignoring the turning that led to the car park and the main doors. I’d slowed so that I was crawling along, keeping alert for any signs of movement around me. The area was quiet, with few pedestrians. Most workers were probably only just beginning their evening commute.

  As I rounded the corner of the block, I spotted Schuster’s car in front. It had been parked on its own directly by a service entrance, in between industrial bins that were clustered along the back of the building. Parked side on, the driver’s side faced me. I eased off the accelerator and the BMW rolled to a stop. I looked down at the phone and saw the red dot was still in position, not moving.

  Because of the car’s blacked-out windows, I couldn’t see whether anyone was still inside. But seconds later, I knew the answer. The driver’s door, the front passenger door and the back door on the driver’s side opened in unison. Schuster stepped out of the front passenger door and began to walk around to the nearside of the vehicle. His two men stood and gazed around them. One of them spotted my car and said something to his friend, who turned in my direction.

  The Glock was stuffed into the waistband of my trousers. I also had a SIG P226 in my pocket that had belonged to Lena that I’d picked up on my way out of the warehouse.

  I didn’t need either of them yet. I was already sitting in the best weapon available to me.

  I slammed my foot down on the accelerator. The tyres skidded on the frosty ground but the four-wheel drive soon found traction. The car lurched forward, pinning me back against my seat. The engine whined and then growled, the revs pushing it to bursting point. The needle shot up on the speedometer.