“I’d say half as glorious as you’d planned.”
He narrowed his eyes momentarily and gazed into hers to see if there was truth in them.
“So,” Asad said, “it was you at the docks. You’re the one who killed my men and destroyed half of our missiles.”
“Where are the rest?” She brandished her pistol, pointing the muzzle of the suppressor directly at his nose.
His smile widened, showing off crooked, yellow teeth stained from years of smoking and drinking strong coffee. He pressed his head to the muzzle. “You’re too late, little girl. Nothing can stop it now. Even if it is only half the warheads we wanted, it will be catastrophic. We will strike a deadly blow to the heart of infidels everywhere. And it is just the beginning.”
She started to ask what he meant by that, but her question was cut short by a crippling thud to the back of her head.
Adriana slumped over on top of Asad and rolled onto the ground. The world spun in her blurred vision. Her head throbbed. A figure stood over her holding a gun. Asad scrambled off the ground and sneered down at her.
Another man appeared to his right.
“Want us to kill her?” the one holding the gun asked. His voice sounded like he was in a tunnel.
“No,” Asad said. “I want to know who she works for.” He knelt down on one knee, looming over her menacingly. “And I want her to see the world burn.”
12
London
Ice-cold water splashed over Adriana’s face. She’d been unconscious since the blow to the back of her head. The sudden bucket of freezing liquid to the face changed all that.
Her senses heightened for a second, and the effects of the injury vanished. She snapped her head around, shaking the water from her face and hair. After blinking rapidly, she realized she was in a hotel bathroom, tied to a desk chair.
“Have a good nap?” Asad asked. He was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. One of his goons stood by the sink, holding a bucket.
Adriana twitched her nose and frowned. Through the shivering, wet sensation, she smelled something foreign. Then she realized why she’d been out. It wasn’t the injury to her head. She’d been drugged, probably while she was woozy.
She took a deep breath and exhaled through clenched teeth.
“You know,” he went on, “I was wondering why Youssef was acting so strange.” He held up the phone so she could see it. “Your messages were oddly short. Youssef was never so succinct, in any form of communication.”
Asad turned to his henchman and laughed. “He could never shut up, could he?”
The other guy chuckled and shook his head.
“Shame you killed him.” Asad’s demeanor suddenly turned irritated.
Adriana shook her head. “I told you. I didn’t kill him.”
“Oh? Because I just got word from my men that he was shot several times and dropped down a stairwell.”
“I personally don’t care if you believe me or not. But if you have half a brain, you’ll listen to me. Someone came after Youssef. Two men wearing masks. They specifically targeted him.”
“You managed to survive.”
“I was lucky.”
Asad bellowed. “Really? You don’t strike me as the type of woman who relies on luck very often.”
“You’d be right to assume that.” She squirmed in the chair. “I don’t know why they were after your boy Youssef. What I do know is that I didn’t kill him.”
“But you did try to kill me. And you took out several of my men at the shipyard.”
“A girl’s gotta have some fun.”
He grunted his disapproval. “Well, I promise you, we’re going to have lots of fun tonight. First, you’re going to tell me who you are and who you work for. Although I can tell from the look on your face that you have no intentions of doing so. That’s fine; my associate here can be very convincing.” He motioned to the guy standing next to him.
“We may start with some waterboarding and work our way up to removing appendages such as fingers, toes, legs, arms, and, eventually, eyes before we kill you. I do hope it doesn’t come to such drastic measures. I’d prefer you simply tell us what we want to know so we can kill you quickly and efficiently—and with less of a mess.”
She noted how eloquent he was. His wording along with the way he spoke gave away an educated background.
Adriana gazed into his eyes. “Torture me if you want, Asad. It’s not going to save you.”
“Save me? I don’t need saving.” He was genuinely confused.
“You need to listen, and you need to listen well, Camir.” She paused to see how using his first name would change his demeanor. “Whoever these guys are, they’re either after you or the missiles. Either way, I can guarantee you they’re coming—if they’re not already here.”
Asad ignored her and shook his head. He pointed out the door to the window. “Bring her over here,” he said.
She struggled against the bonds keeping her to the chair as Asad’s henchman grabbed the back of it and dragged her across the hotel room. He spun the chair around, forcing her to look out the window. The curtains were pulled back to the edges of the rods, allowing a full view of the plaza below.
“You guys didn’t take me very far, did you?” She recognized the cafe below where she’d laid the trap gone wrong for Asad.
“No. We knew someone was following us, but not who.”
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me. I’m not telling you a thing.”
Asad pouted his lips and nodded. “Yes, we’ve already been through that. And while I certainly plan on having you tortured and eventually executed, I thought we’d begin with something a little less personal.”
Her eyebrows lowered and pinched together. “Less personal?”
Asad turned to his guy and gave a nod. The man flipped on the television, and a moment later a soccer game appeared on the screen.
“Major match tonight between Arsenal and Real Madrid,” he said. “European Cup semifinals. The stadium across town is packed to the rafters. Seems like a perfect place to test one of our new toys, don’t you think?”
Adriana couldn’t hide the horror in her eyes. He was going to launch one of the missiles at the soccer stadium.
“Sixty thousand people are there at this very moment, probably drunk and reveling in the pointless joy and agony of sport. You see?” He held up a finger. “This is exactly the kind of wasteful thing infidels like you support. Not for long, though. We will eliminate the nonbelievers from the face of the earth, and we will do it thousands at a time.”
“You think there aren’t people at that game who share similar beliefs with you? You’re going to kill Muslims, too.”
“Sacrifices must be made.”
“So, you’re willing to murder innocent people even if they share your crazy ideology?”
“No one is innocent.”
She flashed a glance at her car key sitting on the desk to his left.
Asad frowned and looked at the key. “You want this?” he asked and picked it up. He examined it closely.
Adriana watched as her captor twisted the fob around in his fingers. He cocked his head to the side and inspected the little pad in the center.
“I see you’re driving a fine automobile,” he said and pressed his thumb to the biometric panel on accident. He tossed the key aside. “Well, you did drive it. Not anymore. After tonight, there won’t be any more driving for you.”
He turned to his henchman. “Program the coordinates and the launch sequence. It’s time.”
The crowd roared on the television as Arsenal narrowly missed a shot. A moment later, they started chanting louder than before, sensing their team was on the verge of a major victory.
Adriana concealed her thoughts with an angry look. Had he pressed the button enough to activate the response Henry promised? She’d know in mere minutes. For the time being, she had more pressing issues.
Asad’s guy flipped open a laptop and started typi
ng. The screen was filled with a map of the city. Circles wrapped around a section of London where she knew the soccer game was playing out. The circles must have been the anticipated blast radius of the missile. Thousands of people would die at the stadium. Many more would be injured.
Adriana waited until Asad turned his head to get a look at the screen. When he did, she twisted her right hand. The rope rubbed hard on her skin, but it was loose enough for what she planned to do next. Then she saw movement in the street below. Four men exited a black van and were walking down the street. Their faces were covered in black masks that matched their clothing. She could see the outlines of weapons hanging in their hands. No automatic weapons this time, but in the close quarters of a hotel those weren’t necessary.
“This is your last chance,” she said. “They’re coming.”
Asad turned his attention to Adriana and then followed her gaze out the window. He saw the men disappear underneath them and clenched his jaw.
“Start the countdown,” he ordered the guy at the computer.
The man pressed a button, and the screen changed to a timer. It displayed just over twenty-nine minutes. Adriana glanced at the television and noted there were still thirty-five minutes left in the game.
Everyone would still be there.
Asad picked up a radio and pressed the button. “We have trouble. Front entrance. Take them out.”
He’d no sooner finished his order than he heard the sound of suppressed gunfire in the hall outside. Asad’s face filled with fear. “That’s impossible. They just walked in.” Panic flowed in his tone. “Get out there and help,” he ordered his men.
Adriana sprang to action.
She planted her feet on the floor and stood. Asad turned, but Adriana was faster. She swung the chair’s legs around, striking his face with one as she doubled over to get as much height from the blow as possible.
Asad’s henchman reached for the weapon on his hip. She rolled onto the bed, pressed her feet into it, and did a full backflip toward the gunman. Before he could draw the pistol, the base of the seat struck him in the head and plowed him into the floor. The chair’s bolts and glue gave way on impact and split apart like a cheap toy.
Asad rolled to his feet and reached for a pistol lying on the desk by the computer.
Adriana snapped her right foot and kicked his wrist out of the way. She shook a loose piece of wood away from her wrists and then freed her hands. Asad tried to grab the weapon again with the other hand, but she snatched his wrist, twisted it awkwardly, and pulled him away toward the window.
He yelped as she jerked him forward. He put out his free hand to stop his momentum, but it was too late. His head went through the glass. Huge chunks of the window broke free and fell to the sidewalk below, shattering into a million pieces.
Sirens screamed in the distance.
Blood trickled down Asad’s face. Adriana held him by the back of the neck, forcing his head down so he had no choice but face certain death below.
“Where are the missiles, Asad?” she asked in a gritty voice.
“I’ll never tell you, infidel. Besides, you’re too late. The countdown has already started. Soon, the world will understand the power of the Red Ring.”
More gunshots popped in the hallway beyond the door. Adriana knew Asad’s men couldn’t hold them off forever. He’d obviously stationed men at the door. How many, she wasn’t sure. She figured there’d been more downstairs. They were likely already dead.
A heavy thud at the door followed by a low grinding sound signaled one of the men had been hit and probably struck the door as he fell.
“They’re coming, Asad. Do you hear that? Your men are dying. Whoever these guys are, they will kill both of us. Tell me where the missiles are, and I’ll spare your life.”
“Spare my life?” he laughed. “I am prepared to die. Allah will reward me.”
She shook her head and forced his down a little more. “Last chance, Asad. Where are the missiles? How did you get them? I want a name. Who is your connection?”
He only offered another laugh.
More muffled pops came from the hallway.
Threatening this guy with death wasn’t the way to go. That much was obvious. He was fine with being a martyr.
He probably wasn’t fine with pain, however.
She yanked him back inside the hotel and kicked him in the gut. He doubled over and dropped to his knees. She kicked him in the side of the head and watched him topple to the carpet next to the bed. He was out cold.
Adriana hurried to the desk and grabbed the pistol. A quick check told her the magazine was full. She slid it back into the pistol grip and pulled back the slide to chamber a round. Then she slid to her left and looked at the computer screen. Only twenty-seven minutes left on the clock and counting.
She hit the escape button and found herself staring at a screen full of code.
Of all the foreign and dead languages Adriana could speak and read, programming code wasn’t one of them. However, she’d seen enough HTML to know that buried inside the lines of nonsensical gibberish were things an ordinary person could understand.
She put her finger on the mouse pad and started scrolling down through line after line of code until she came to a sequence of numbers.
They weren’t color codes.
She scrolled a little farther and found another set of numbers.
“Coordinates,” she muttered.
She pulled out the desk drawer and found a pen next to a notepad. It took less than twenty seconds to scribble down the coordinates. A rapid check through most of the code revealed no other numbers of that kind, which further confirmed her suspicions.
She minimized the screen running the launch sequence and pulled up the internet. Once in the web browser, she ran a search for both coordinates. The first pulled up a map with the soccer stadium dead center. The target didn’t help her. She already knew that much. She needed the location of the missile. If she could find that, maybe she could locate the rest.
Her fingers flew across the keyboard as another thud came from outside the door amid gunfire.
Another of Asad’s guards had been taken down. The henchmen on the floor next to her started to roll over. She kicked him in the side of the head with her boot and sent him back to dreamland.
She checked the screen for the results of her second search. It was an industrial district on the outskirts of town. From the looks of it, getting there would take almost twenty minutes.
Not good enough, especially with what was going on outside.
Asad started to rouse on the other side of the bed. That gave Adriana an idea. She snatched her car key and shoved her phone into a pocket. If he wasn’t going to volunteer to help, she’d make him useful one way or the other.
13
London
Adriana grabbed Asad by the back of his shirt and dragged him over to the door. He wasn’t a small man, and getting him to move took every ounce of strength she could muster.
He kicked and squirmed but was still too woozy to put up much of a fight. When she reached the entrance, she let go of his shirt, twisted the latch, and flung the door open.
Two men were lying on the ground. Another was on one knee, firing his weapon down the hallway. The second Adriana opened the door, he took his eyes off the target, looked at her with surprise, and then caught two bullets in the chest.
The guy fell on his back, coughed for several seconds, and then went still.
“What’s going on?” Asad asked, still out of it.
“You’re not going to answer my questions. So, I’m using you as best I can.”
He started to struggle, but Adriana hooked her arm under his armpit. With every bit of leverage she could summon, she raised him up and swooped her other arm around his throat. She squeezed hard, forcing him to use his feet and legs to stay up and breathe. Then she jerked him backward out into the corridor and aimed her weapon in the same direction the dead gunmen had been shooting.
Two attackers were advancing down the hall, mistakenly believing they’d eliminated the only threat.
Adriana opened fire, emptying half the contents of her magazine in seconds.
The gunmen tried to halt and retreat, but it was too late. They were completely exposed, and all they could do was try in vain to defend themselves by returning fire.
Adriana cut them down before they could get more than one shot away. Now the question was, where were the others?
She got her answer almost immediately.
They’d been waiting around the corner, probably as part of their backup plan or maybe to cover the rear while the other two advanced. Either way, the men rushed from their hiding place and opened fire.
Adriana held the heavy Asad in front of her. His eyes went wide as the rounds flew by, at first striking the walls and door frame. Then one caught him in the gut. Another struck his right leg. She felt him get heavier and the tension on his throat increased.
It was all she could do to keep him in front of her body. She worked the pistol under his other armpit and fired blindly at the gunmen. The shots weren’t even close to accurate, but they were good enough to make the shooters pull back for cover.
She’d been counting the rounds in her head and knew that there were only three left.
No way she could win that fight.
There was only one thing she could do. Run.
Adriana let go of Asad and fired one more shot at the end of the hall. Then she took off in the other direction. She heard more gunfire coming from behind the enemy’s position. About time the good guys sent reinforcements, she thought. That didn’t stop her. She had to find the missiles before it was too late.
Asad fell to his knees, grabbing his throat with one hand and his bleeding stomach with the other. He looked up in time to see the gunmen reappear. They fired their weapons repeatedly. The rounds tore through his body. He shuddered with every powerful blow until he fell backward over his lower legs in an incredibly awkward position.
When Shadows Call Page 9