Run and Hide

by Alan McDermott

  Eva ignored the younger man’s endless joking, as she’d tried to do for most of the journey. She’d used the drive to get to know them, and while Len Smart appeared mature and professional, Sonny had been infuriating in the extreme. His style was to reduce everything to jokes or innuendo. That said, her respect for Smart had only increased: if he could put up with Sonny for so long, his patience must be endless.

  “Keep your eyes peeled,” she said as she climbed out. “I’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

  When she rapped on the door, it took a minute for DeBron’s guard to answer it. He opened the door and rubbed his eyes, his attire adding to the impression that he’d just woken up.

  Eva went through the pat-down procedure and walked up the stairs as the security door buzzed open. DeBron was sitting behind his desk, sporting the same clothes he’d been wearing on her last visit. Even the smile was the same, in spite of the hour.

  “Sorry to wake you,” she said, “but I couldn’t wait. I need to get going as soon as possible.”

  DeBron rose and picked up a couple of black canvas bags that had been at his feet. He placed them on the desk.

  “That’s everything you asked for.”

  Even though their association had been long and cordial, Eva still needed to check the contents. She opened the first bag and pulled out four Sig Sauer SIG16 assault rifles and the same number of suppressed Glock 17s. They all looked to have been well maintained.

  “Ammo?”

  “Four hundred rounds of 9mm for the Glocks and a thousand 5.56 for the rifles.”

  Eva could see plenty of spare magazines for the weapons in the second bag, as well as a couple of cleaning kits and latex gloves so that the weapons and ammo could be handled without leaving fingerprints or traces of DNA. As usual, DeBron had thought of everything.

  “Is the vehicle ready?”

  “I told Tyrone to bring it around when you got here.”

  “Great. If you could get him to take the Ford back to the rental office, I’d appreciate it. My friends paid for it in their name, and I don’t want them being flagged.”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks again. I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

  “Always a pleasure. Give my condolences to the other guy.”

  Eva smiled and picked up the bags. She carried them downstairs and out the door, where a Dodge Grand Caravan had parked behind the Ford. She would have preferred something with a little more under the hood, but she’d make do.

  Tyrone tossed her the keys, and she ordered Len and Sonny to switch vehicles, telling the larger man to drive. She got in the front seat next to him.

  “Sonny, make yourself useful and fill those magazines. Wear the gloves.”

  As they pulled away, she looked in the mirror and saw Tyrone getting into the rental.

  “Take a left at the end of the street,” she said. “Once we’ve picked up Rees and Farooq, we’ll head for D.C. I suggest we stop at a motel overnight to catch up on sleep.”

  “Sleep sounds good,” Sonny said. “I’ve been awake for about thirty hours.”

  We all have, thought Eva.

  Smart had managed a couple of hours’ sleep in the back seat on the drive from Atlanta, but they could all do with a good rest before the mission proper.

  Eva directed Smart onto 7th Street Road, and soon she could see the hotel in the distance.

  “That’s the place,” she said. “Park outside the entrance. I’ll go up and get them.”

  Smart pulled up to the curb and left the engine running as she entered the lobby.

  Still dressed in her old lady garb, she once again felt out of place, this time in an establishment run purely for the sex trade, but at least any description the receptionist gave would be useless in a few hours’ time.

  The youngish man behind the desk didn’t glance up from his phone until she was standing right in front of him, and he looked beyond her to see if she’d brought along a companion. “Can I help?” he asked, his tone suggesting it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “I’m looking for my friends,” she told him. “One’s black, the other’s Arabic. They’ve been here a couple of days.”

  “Four eleven,” the man said, and returned his attention to his phone.

  Eva turned to walk to the stairway, but froze when the receptionist added, “Popular guys . . .” under his breath.

  “What’s that?”

  “Oh, just some guy was asking about them a couple of hours ago. Said he was a friend too.”

  Eva went immediately on edge. “Is he still here?” she asked, working to keep her voice even.

  The man shook his head, still concentrating on his phone. “Came and left, just like the rest of them.” He smirked at his own joke, but Eva didn’t notice.

  Somehow, West’s people had managed to find Colback and Farooq. The “how” would have to wait until they were clear of the area and could take stock.

  She walked to the stairs, her hand gripping the Glock in her purse. Tempted as she was to look up and scan for threats, she kept her eyes on the steps as she climbed to the second floor. The hallway was clear, so she continued her act and made it to the third. Again, no sign of danger, but she sensed that the enemy was close.

  On the fourth floor, she took the gun from her purse and kept it out of view. When she reached room 411, she put her ear to the door. Hearing nothing, she knocked twice, then stood off to the side.

  The door cracked open a couple of inches and Colback’s face appeared in the gap.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s me,” Eva whispered, and his eyes widened as he recognized the voice. He slipped the chain and let her into the room.

  Farooq was asleep on the bed, a shark documentary playing on the television, the volume low.

  “You look—”

  Eva held up a hand, and in a harsh whisper said, “Grab everything. We’re leaving. They found you.”

  Colback started to speak, but she cut him off again. “Move!”

  Farooq shot upright and stared at her, confusion on his face.

  “Eva?” he asked after a couple of seconds.

  “We have to go,” she told him. “You’ve got thirty seconds to get your shit together.”

  The men quickly began stuffing their belongings into their bags and throwing on jackets. Colback took the Glock from his waistband and checked the chamber.

  “There’s a Dodge Caravan outside. The guys in it are with me. I’ll leave first and check the area. If it’s clear, I’ll signal you. I want you both to run to the vehicle and get in. You hear me?”

  They both nodded and she led them out of the room and down the hallway to the stairs.

  They reached the lobby without incident, and Colback dropped his room key on the reception desk as Eva headed for the door.

  She was halfway to the entrance when two men strode in.

  Not Sonny. Not Smart.

  Trouble.

  They wore identical dark jeans and leather jackets, and they looked wired. One of them glanced past Eva and saw Colback and Farooq standing at the reception desk. He nudged his companion and spoke into his throat mic, at the same time reaching inside his jacket.

  Eva continued to approach them in her old woman’s gait, but the killers only had eyes for her friends at the desk.

  That made her job much easier.

  She put her hand in her bag, head down as if looking for her keys, all the while aiming to pass between them. As she drew level with the leather jackets, she brought her foot up and smashed it into the knee of the one on her left. Bone crunched and the man yelled in pain as he collapsed, but Eva was already moving onto the second target. She spun to her right and struck him at the base of the neck with the butt of her pistol.

  Temporarily incapacitating them wasn’t going to be enough. They would soon be back in the fight—at least one of them would—and Eva had a feeling there’d be plenty more outside to contend with. The one with the shattered knee grimaced a
s he reached for the pistol he’d dropped, and Eva put him out of his misery with a shot to the temple.

  She dispatched the other in an equally clinical manner, feeling only the slightest remorse at having to kill agents whose work was much like hers had been.

  She looked to Colback, who’d barely had time to draw his own weapon before it was all over.

  “Let’s go,” Eva said as she made for the exit.

  She poked her head around the door and saw four more men appear around the side of the building. They had weapons ready and were heading for her.

  “Four more coming this way,” she told Colback and Farooq. “Get in the van. I’ll cover you.”

  But Sonny Baines had his own plans, emerging from the Dodge with a rifle in hand. He crept along the side of the van until level with the front passenger seat. He paused and looked back and forth between the approaching quartet and Eva. When she nodded, he brought the rifle to his shoulder and laid down suppressing fire. One of the targets staggered and fell, and the others dived for cover.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  The moment Sonny shouted the order, Eva grabbed Farooq’s collar and dragged him to the van. He scrambled inside and Eva followed, Colback close behind.

  “Time to go!” she shouted to Sonny, who jumped back into the front seat, then rolled down the window as Smart hit the gas. Tires squealed as they sought purchase, and the van shot forward.

  The incoming fire was immediate and ferocious. The windscreen spiderwebbed as rounds struck the glass, and Eva gave thanks that they faced only pistols.

  Sonny leaned out of the window and fired three-round bursts, taking another two men down and forcing the last operative to scramble for cover around the side of the hotel.

  “Sonny!” Smart yelled. “Two o’clock!”

  Sonny looked ahead and saw two black SUVs race out of a parking lot and swing to a stop in the road, blocking it. Doors flew open and armed men piled out. Pinpricks of light preceded bullets slamming into the front of the Dodge.

  “Hold on!”

  Smart spun the wheel to the left to give Sonny a better angle, and his friend emptied his weapon at the blockade.

  “Switching,” Sonny said as he ejected the spent magazine and rammed home a fresh one.

  Smart bounced up a curb and raced down the side of a car dealership, the van’s tires fighting for traction in the loose dirt. The incoming fire had ceased for the moment, but seconds later headlights appeared in his rearview mirror. He kept his foot to the floor, the rear axle fishtailing at every opportunity.

  A fence appeared in front of them, but Smart didn’t lift his foot. After yelling for everyone to hold tight, he smashed through the woodwork. The nose dropped two feet as the ground disappeared beneath them and they hit the railway track hard. Everyone inside was thrown around like balls in a lotto machine, and Smart momentarily lost his grip on the wheel. He finally regained control as the bouncing stopped and they found themselves at the end of a residential street. Smart punched it once more, and seconds later they came to an intersection with a two-lane highway, one that paralleled 7th Street Road.

  “Any suggestions?” he called out.

  “Don’t stop for hitchhikers,” Sonny deadpanned. “Apart from that, just lose the bastards.”

  “We need to think about satellite coverage,” Farooq said. “If they’re watching us now, we haven’t got a chance.”

  “One thing at a time,” Eva said. “Len, get us clear of the area.”

  Smart turned right onto the two-lane. The road was clear, but not for long.

  A Jeep screeched to a halt at the next junction, then accelerated straight for the van. Smart was having enough trouble seeing through the shattered windshield, and the oncoming high beams made it doubly difficult. He was about to ask Sonny to clear a path, but his partner was already on it.

  As Sonny blasted away at the fast-approaching Jeep, Eva followed his lead and emptied her rifle out of the right-hand side of the van. The SUV jinked to evade the onslaught, but the fire was too accurate. One of Sonny’s rounds struck the driver and the Jeep lurched to the right, hitting the curb hard and bouncing twice before embedding itself in the corner of a tire shop. There was no blinding explosion, only a jet of steam from under the hood. Eva pumped a few more rounds into the stricken vehicle as they passed, then began looking for new targets.

  The road remained clear for the next minute, giving Eva time to tear Farooq a new one.

  “Boss.”

  Castleton nudged Eckman and pointed to the hotel. A Dodge van had pulled up. An elderly woman got out.

  Eckman snatched up his binoculars and focused on the entrance to the Beechwood. As the woman walked inside, he put the glasses down. “It’s not her, unless she put on a hundred pounds and aged forty years in the last few days.” He looked at his watch as the seconds ticked toward four in the morning.

  The arrival of the van made no difference to the mission. Hopefully it would be gone before the countdown expired, but if not, no big deal. The plan was to take Colback and Naser out the back exit, so any activity at the front of the hotel was irrelevant. Everyone was in place and they were just awaiting his word.

  The moment to issue the go order finally arrived. Eckman gave the command over the closed comms and watched as two of his men walked around the side of the building and headed for the main entrance. Out of sight, Eckman knew that six of his men would be making their way in through the back, with four more covering the outside in case the targets managed to slip past the vanguard.

  The two-man team at the front disappeared inside and, seconds later, Eckman’s comms squawked into life.

  “Eagle Three. Eyes on Colback and Naser.”

  Damn. That soon?

  Eckman hadn’t expected them to be in the reception area. They were supposed to be tucked up in their beds, oblivious to the snatch squad coming for them.

  The chances of this going down quietly were fast disappearing.

  “Take them, but try not to cause a scene,” Eckman ordered.

  He waited for an acknowledgment, but none came.

  “Eagle Three, did you copy last?”

  Nothing.

  “Rook One, Rook Two, targets sighted in the reception area. No response from Eagle Three. Check it out.”

  Eckman saw the four men creep around the side of the building and head toward the entrance to the Beechwood. He also saw someone emerge from the van with an assault rifle at his shoulder.

  “Rook One—”

  The gunman opened fire before he could get his warning away, and one man staggered and fell. The others dived for cover as three figures ran from the hotel entrance to the Dodge. Two of them were Colback and Naser, and Eckman was surprised to see an old woman with them.

  Too late, he realized that he’d been fooled by a simple disguise.

  “All units, they’re at the entrance! Driscoll’s with them! They’re getting into the van!”

  The target vehicle was already on the move. Eckman could only watch as two more of his men were hit, and that spurred him into action. He ordered Castleton into the driver’s seat of his Jeep as he continued to issue orders.

  “They’re moving! All units, mount up. They’re heading north on 7th Street Road.”

  Castleton gunned the engine and the Jeep roared onto the street to give chase. They were the only pursuers for the moment, as the rest of the men ran back to the parking lot to retrieve their vehicles.

  Eckman’s phone chirped and the caller ID told him it was West.

  “I need satellite,” Eckman said. “They’ve taken off and we’re pursuing, but she’s got a head start.”

  “The bird’s not available,” West told him. “It’s tasked with an antiterror operation in California. We’re tracking Naser’s phone though. Stay on the line and I’ll give you updates.”

  Eckman was glad West hadn’t asked how the operation had gone pear-shaped. That conversation could wait.

  Eckman saw the van go off-road and to
ld Castleton to follow. He hung on tight as the Jeep bounced up the curb and onto dirt. The Jeep had better traction and was gaining rapidly, but the cloud of dust being thrown up made it difficult to see. He almost soiled himself when the road suddenly disappeared, and Castleton brought the Jeep to a skidding halt inches from the drop onto the railway track. He could see the van pick up speed as it made it onto asphalt.

  “Back up!” Eckman ordered, and got onto the radio to let the others know where Driscoll and her team were heading.

  Eagle Four responded to say they were on an intercept course, while the teams he’d sent south to cut Driscoll off gave their ETAs.

  Castleton reversed at speed and bounced back onto 7th Street Road, then headed north to the next turn, but by then they’d lost contact with Eagle Four.

  Castleton stopped the Jeep at the next intersection, where the intercept team’s crumpled vehicle was clearly visible, embedded in the corner of a tire shop.

  “Where are they?” Eckman asked West.

  “Heading east. They turned right onto West Oak Street toward Limerick. Wait one . . . Shit! We lost the signal.”

  “It’s impossible,” Farooq insisted. “There’s no way they could have traced my phone or found my back doors.”

  “Someone did,” Eva said. “The guy who was asking about you at the hotel wasn’t trying to sell you insurance. Ditch the cell, right now.”

  Farooq sighed as he activated a program on his phone that wiped all data from the handset, then removed the battery and SIM card and tossed the components out of the window.

  “Satisfied?”

  “No.”

  Once more, they’d been caught on their back foot. She preferred to be hunter rather than prey and intended to reverse their roles as soon as possible.

  “Did you check the comms file every ten minutes like I told you?”

  “Yes. There was nothing,” Farooq said.

  “And I checked them while he was asleep,” Colback added. “It was just chatter. No mention of us.”

  “They must have found your worm,” Eva said. “They knew we were listening in and let us think we were in the clear. My guess is they’ll be communicating by phone or closed comms instead. Len, take a right and then the next left. We’ll spend some time in residential streets. If they’re watching from above, we’ll know soon enough. If they don’t hit us in the next couple of minutes, we’ll ditch the car and find new wheels.”