by James Cook
She gnashed her teeth and slammed her forehead into the hollow of my throat. When I didn’t react, she did it again, and again.
“This is pointless. It’s over, Anja. Give it up.”
She responded by throwing her legs back, turning her hips, and planting a knee squarely into my balls. A broken roar of agony tore loose from my chest, but I managed to keep my grip and shift her over to my right side, pulling her up higher. The idea was to keep her from kneeing me again, but I had forgotten about her head. The miscalculation became painfully obvious when her teeth clamped down on my ear.
Screaming with renewed agony, I released her and grabbed her around the throat, vision blurred, squeezing with everything I had. The world went red as I dug my thumbs into her larynx, all thoughts of sparing her life evaporating. Something gave way under my fingers, and she stopped biting me to tear at my hands, eyes bulging, strangled little croaking noises breaking loose from her throat. Before I knew what I was doing, I had released her with one hand, clamped down on her thigh, and lifted her high over my head. She tried to kick free, but my grip was too strong. I twisted her in the air until she was upside down and slammed her to the floor with all the strength I could muster. There was a sickening crack, like breaking a handful of carrots in a towel, and Anja Renner went limp.
I stood over her, chest heaving, until the world turned back to its normal colors.
“Anja?”
She lay awkwardly, buttocks in the air, limbs piled like discarded sticks. Her head rested on her back at an impossible angle, the elfin point of her chin nearly touching her spine. Those storm-colored, North Atlantic eyes stared blankly at me over her shoulder, all the light gone out of them. My stomach twisted, intensifying the burning cramps clawing at my stomach.
I made it to the toilet, but just barely.
*****
Tolliver answered on the first ring.
“I already spoke to Tanner,” he said without preamble.
“What happened?”
“Worry about that later. Are you near your tablet?”
“Yes.”
“Enable the remote connection and bring up the hotel’s schematics.”
I pulled the tablet from my suitcase and did as asked, first bringing up the settings and giving Tolliver remote access, then opening an app that displayed an interactive diagram of the Waldorf-Astoria’s floor plans. Once connected, Tolliver shifted the display to the third floor and hovered a small cursor over a stairwell near 49th street.
“Villalobos and Hargreaves are holed up in this stairwell. Rocco has them boxed in from the third floor, and our assets on the hotel staff are covering the other entrances. Our surveillance team intercepted a call from Hargreaves to the rest of Villalobos’ security team. There are at least eight hostiles in play, including Connor Hughes and Gustavo Silva. I sent Tanner to deal with Silva and his crew. I need you to proceed to Rocco’s location and take out Hughes, then find a way to get Hargreaves out of that stairwell. Is it safe to assume Renner is dead?”
I had to clear my throat before answering. “Yes. You’ll need to send a cleanup team.”
“I’ll take care of it. Now get moving, Garrett. The clock is ticking.”
I dressed quickly, taking a moment to put on a shoulder rig and arm myself with a handful of flashbang grenades and a specially manufactured Ruger Mark III. The Ruger was chambered in .22 long rifle, loaded with sub-sonic ammunition, and boasted a seven-inch integrally suppressed barrel, meaning I did not have to screw on a silencer. Once armed, I grabbed my cell phone and activated its GPS locator app. Tanner, Rocco, and I all had encrypted GPS transmitters that gave us the ability to locate each other virtually anywhere on the planet. The trackers were small devices, no bigger than a nickel, implanted under the skin of the shoulder.
After stuffing three spare magazines in my shoulder rig, I untangled Anja’s corpse, turned her head until it was facing the proper direction, composed her hands over her chest, and covered her with a blanket. Although she was far from such concerns, I wanted to spare her the indignity of being found in a broken heap. It was the least I could do.
The hallway outside my room was empty. Waiting for the elevator would take too long, so I sprinted for the stairs and flew down them two at a time until I reached the third floor. The door opened into a broad, open square connecting several hallways. I activated the two-way radio function on my phone and selected Rocco’s call sign.
“What?” he said angrily.
“Need a sitrep.”
“Hargreaves and Villalobos are still trapped. Fucking limey bastard killed one of his own security people and took his gun. Shot one of our assets on the ground floor and damn near got me too. Tolliver says we got company on the way.”
“Affirmative. How many people do we have blocking the other entrances to the stairwell?”
“Two each. It’s got all our people tied up, that’s why I’m here alone.”
“Not anymore.”
I turned off the radio and called Tolliver. “Do we have eyes on Hughes or Silva?”
“Caught Silva on a security camera. He’s headed for the stairwell entrance on the fourth floor. Tanner is moving to intercept.”
“What about Hughes?”
“Hargreaves ordered him to proceed to the third floor entrance and take out Rocco. If they get past the two of you, our people on the ground floor won’t stand a chance. You have to take Hughes out at all costs. Leave the channel open, I’ll keep you posted.”
I plugged in an earpiece and stuffed the phone in my jacket’s breast pocket. There was a large urn with some kind of broad-leafed plant growing from it at the corner of the hallway. I moved over to it and crouched down, pressing myself into its shadow.
If Hughes wanted to avoid drawing attention to himself, this was the best route to take. Attempting to get past the guards at the other stairwell entrances would be loud and bloody, and draw the attention of the NYPD. Not the best way to make a clean getaway. In all likelihood, Silva would discover the same problem at the fourth floor entrance and take the elevator to ground level, then try to circle around the back of the building: exactly what we wanted him to do. Tanner could follow them, and with any luck, take them out in time to help me deal with Hughes and his team.
Seconds seemed to stretch on forever as I waited, respiration increasing with the anticipation of combat. Hughes’ people would be well-armed and well-trained, and would not hesitate to kill me if I gave them a chance. I had no plans to do so. Another minute or two went by until finally my earpiece crackled. Tanner’s voice came over the channel.
“Rocco, Garrett, acknowledge.”
I spoke first, in accordance with protocol. In the background, I could hear the low whump of suppressed fire, and the pitter-patter of bullets striking walls. “Ten four.”
“Loud and clear,” Rocco said. “Sounds like you’re under fire.”
“I’m in the 49th Street alley. The two agents with me are down. Silva has three men with him, armed with suppressed pistols. I’m pinned down and low on ammo. Request immediate backup.”
“Acknowledged,” I said. “I’m on my way.”
Just as I gathered myself to stand, Tolliver’s voice cut in. “Negative, Garrett. I have visual on Hughes. He’s on his way to you, coming down the northernmost corridor. There are three hostiles with him. Stay on station and take them out.”
“Fuck that,” Rocco cut in. “Gabe, go help Tanner. I can take care of Hughes and his little bitches.”
“That’s a negative,” Tolliver shouted. “Rocco, you will follow protocol, or so help me God I will sanction your ass. Garrett, stay on station until Hughes is taken care of. Tanner, I’m sending one of the extraction teams to back you up. ETA two minutes.”
Tanner’s voice was panicked. “Goddammit, Tolliver, I don’t have two minutes.”
Tolliver ignored him. “Garrett, you are to stay on station. Acknowledge.”
I hesitated, eyes on the opposite stairwell. “Rocco can
handle Hughes and you know it, Tolliver.”
“Garrett, you will follow protocol. That’s an order. You are to remain on station until you take out Hughes and his men. We can’t afford to lose Villalobos. You know the rules. The mission takes priority.”
I stayed where I was, staring at the stairwell. With each second that passed, Tanner’s chances grew slimmer. I could acknowledge, then render assistance anyway. But Tolliver was tracking us and he would know if I left my post. If Hughes managed to get past Rocco, the agents at ground level were dead men. If I didn’t help Tanner, so was he. I ground my teeth in frustration, debating what to do.
I thought about Villalobos’ case file, and the cartel he ran, and the money he funneled into terrorist cells. I thought about all the effort and money and resources that had gone into this operation. I thought about all the people whose deaths Villalobos was responsible for, innocent or otherwise. I thought of all the damage he could do if he made it back to Mexico, all the people who would die if this mission failed. When measured against that, Tanner’s life became expendable. He knew the risks when he took the assignment.
I closed my eyes, let out a breath, and spoke. “Acknowledged. Remaining on station.”
Tolliver sounded relieved. “Good. I just caught Hughes on camera again. He should be there in less than a minute. Tanner, give me a sitrep.”
No answer.
“Tanner, acknowledge.”
Nothing.
“Tanner, are you there?”
Static. A leaden weight settled into my stomach.
Tolliver sighed. “All right people, stay focused. The extraction team is en route, ETA one minute. Garrett, Rocco, all bets are off. Silva could show up anywhere, I’ll keep you posted. Do whatever you have to do, just don’t let Villalobos escape. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” I said.
Rocco’s voice was a snarl. “You’re a miserable fuck, Tolliver.”
Around the corner, I heard the sound of hurried footsteps.
TWENTY FIVE
The clinic’s front door nearly came off its hinges.
A crowd of worried townsfolk was gathered outside in the parking lot shouting questions at Sarah and Sheriff Elliott. The two officers had hastily positioned a semi-circle of wooden sawhorses as a barricade, desperately trying to block people from entering the clinic’s lobby. The din of voices subsided as I approached the crowd, their eyes widening, jaws hanging slack in worried surprise. Whatever they saw on my face sent them scrambling to get out of the way.
“The clinic is off limits,” I said, rage flooding my voice. “Anybody goes in without permission, I’ll break you in half. Now go the fuck home.”
They stared after me as I walked away.
No one said a word.
My left hand went to the piece of paper in my pocket, fingers running over its edges. On it was a list of the things Allison needed to save Elizabeth’s life. I was going to make sure she got them, or tear the world apart trying.
When I reached Town Hall, another door flew open and slammed against the wall behind it, nearly startling the poor woman at the front desk out of her chair. I was five steps into the building before I remembered it was supposed to open outward.
Ahead of me lay my destination: the communications room. In that room was a satellite phone with a direct link to the office of General Phillip Jacobs, head of Army Special Operations Command, a man who attended weekly meetings with the Director of Homeland Security, the Joint Chiefs of Staff, and the President herself.
The communications room was important enough to be under twenty-four hour guard, and the guard on duty at the time happened to be Quentin Reid. He stepped in front of me, one hand on his baton, the other outstretched, palm up.
“Hold it right there, Gabe.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Gabe, I can’t let you in there. You know the rules.”
“Fuck your rules,” I shouted, stopping an inch from his face. “The mayor was just shot, you idiot. She needs medical supplies the clinic doesn’t have. Every second you stand here wasting my time is another second she comes closer to dying. Now you will get the hell out of my way, or I will put you through a fucking window. What’s it gonna be?”
Reid paled, hand easing off his baton. “Okay, Gabe. Just take it easy, all right?”
“Don’t you tell me to take it easy, boy. Give me the keys.”
“I’ll open the door for you.”
Before I could say anything else, he turned and walked to the communications room fishing out a set of keys with trembling hands. After two attempts, and a growled threat to take the keys from him if he didn’t have that door open in exactly three seconds, he turned the lock and stepped aside.
“Go ahead, take whatever you need.”
“I don’t remember asking for your permission.”
I went to step forward, but Reid stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, eyes hardening. I turned and glared at him, rumbling deep in my chest.
“I know you’re upset, Gabe. And I’m sorry about what happened to the mayor. She’s a good woman, and I don’t know what this town would do without her. But this room is under guard because Mayor Stone wanted it that way. So whatever you take out of here, you be careful with it and make sure you bring it back. It’s what she would want you to do.”
I glared for a moment longer, fists clenching. Reid held my gaze, not backing down, young face firm and honest. Just a good man doing his job. A tightness in my shoulders I hadn’t been aware of began to ease, leaving me tired and drained. I let my head drop, looking away.
“I’m sorry, Quentin. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Would you mind bringing me the sign-out log?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks.”
I stood in the doorway and waited. Reid brought me the little book and a pen, and indicated where to sign.
“It’s on the charger over there,” he said, pointing.
“I’ll only need it for a little while.”
“Keep it as long as you need it. I’m off duty in half an hour, but I’ll let my replacement know to expect you.”
“Thanks, deputy.”
“Anytime.” He smiled sadly and started to walk away, then stopped. “Hey, uh…how’s she doing?”
I shook my head. “Not good. She’s stable for the time being, but…” Suddenly I had a hard time talking. Something squeezed inside my throat, cutting off my voice.
Reid looked away. “Right. Well, if you get a chance, give her my best, will you?”
I answered with a nod, not trusting myself to speak.
Once outside, I crossed the square to the VFW building and climbed a ladder to the roof to get better reception. The little phone felt dense and heavy in my hand, as if its mass had multiplied on the short walk from town hall. A frigid wind picked up, sending the once gentle snow sideways, skittering and clattering across the ice under my feet. Leaden banks of clouds obscured the sky to the west, dampening the sunset in shades of crimson and copper. I put on my goggles and stared at the phone in my hand, thumb poised over the send key, remembering all the times a single conversation had altered the course of my life, and not for the better.
Without Elizabeth, there is no life. Not anymore. Do what you have to do.
I pushed the button.
An impersonal female voice answered without introduction. “Identification please.”
I spoke the appropriate alpha numeric sequence, given to me by the general himself just before he left town last year. He had tried several times to entice me into rejoining the military, but I had steadfastly refused, saying nothing he could offer would convince me to go back. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
Amazing how things change, isn’t it?
“How can I help you?” the voice said.
“I need to speak with General Jacobs.”
“The general is not available at the moment.”
“Tell him it’s Gabriel Garrett. He’ll make himself available.”
>
“I’m sorry, sir. He’s in a meeting I can’t interrupt. Would you like to leave a message?”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “The mayor of Hollow Rock has been shot. She’s badly wounded, and in need of medical equipment we don’t have. In light of a recent attack by insurgents, and their pending trial, her death could jeopardize relations with loyalists in the region and potentially destabilize the Union’s tenuous peace with the Midwest Alliance. You get all of that?”
There was a long pause. “Yes, thank you, sir. May I repeat the message for verification?”
“Please.”
She did, word for word, getting it right on the first try. I wasn’t surprised. Jacobs was the kind of man who did not tolerate incompetence.
“I’ll notify the general as soon as he is available,” the woman said. “Is the number you’re calling from the best way to reach you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, sir. General Jacobs will be in touch with you soon.” The line went dead.
I sat down on the edge of the roof and listened to the wind, waiting. Darkness slowly began to fall over the town, casting long shadows and bathing rooftops in desolate shades of blue. Across the street, I could see the clinic.
The crowd in the parking lot was gone.
*****
It was an hour before he called back.
“Mr. Garrett, I’m sorry to hear about Elizabeth. Is she going to be all right?”
“It’s not looking good, Phil. The bullet took her through the lung. Doctor Laroux can treat the injury, but she needs additional supplies to treat the complications. I have a list in hand.”
“Just a moment.” The phone rattled when he set it down. There was a shuffling sound, and then Jacobs came back on the line.
“Go ahead.”
I read the list. Some of the items I recognized, others I didn’t. Jacobs stopped me a few times and asked me to spell some of the more outlandish sounding medications. When I was finished, he went silent. I could hear him tapping a pen against something, probably a notepad.