“You want a piece of candy?” The guard gestured toward a candy jar on the desktop. “Left over from Halloween.”
Cody shrugged and walked back. He plunged his hand into the jar pulling out a handful of colorfully wrapped candy. “Thanks.” He pocketed the candy, appearing puzzled over Leon’s frustrated glare. “What? We haven’t eaten in like…forever.” In front of the elevators, they waited, Cody nibbling on a small candy bar. The elevator door dinged open. Letting the departing passengers off first, they stepped inside.
Leon checked his syringe count. “I have…five left, all ready to go.” He patted the gun in his waistband, ensuring its security. “You have your gun?” Cody nodded, brandishing it in the air like a magic wand. He closed one eye. Then he whispered “bang” while yanking it back from a pantomimed recoil.
“Put that away. Keep it somewhere where you can get to it, but don’t use it unless you absolutely have to.”
“Yeah, fine, whatever.” Cody sighed, tucking it into his belt.
Leon shook his head, exasperated (a better feeling than sheer terror), and pressed the twentieth floor button.
“I thought we had to go up to the, what, thirtieth floor. Why the hell you gettin’ off at twenty?”
“We need to wait for the rest of the late workers to depart. The fewer people around, the better off we’ll be.”
“Gotcha.”
“Besides, I truly doubt we can just stroll up to the thirtieth floor and demand to see Wyngarden.”
“What makes you even think Wyngarden’s still here?”
“Until we were black marked, Wyngarden was always here, or at least available by phone. He’s a company man. Count on it. He’s here.”
The elevator bounced to a stop. Leon motioned Cody to back up to the elevator’s side. The doors pulled back. With his finger firmly pressed on the “open” button, Leon peered around the doors. Most of the lights in the offices were extinguished. A few stragglers appeared to be burning midnight oil, but the hallway remained vacant.
Leon signaled for Cody to follow him. They exited, Leon gesturing toward the restroom signs down the hallway.
“Not another toilet hideout,” whispered Cody.
Leon held a finger over his lips. A security camera whirred and twisted at the end of the hallway. He dodged his head as they entered the restroom. Even though they’d been caught on camera, he stayed calm. Between his fake glasses and Cody’s new look, surely they were unrecognizable. And maybe the security camera belonged to the building, unrelated to LMI.
He was wrong on both counts.
* * *
“Sir? I believe we may have a problem.” The underling poked his head into Wyngarden’s office, waiting for an invitation to enter.
Wyngarden leaned back, entwining his hands across his expansive belly. “What is it, Mr. Bridges?” He waved Bridges in.
Bridges sidled up next to Wyngarden’s desk, averting his gaze from the two men across from Wyngarden. Granted they were very hard to ignore. Both men sat with delicately crossed legs, chins resting in one upraised hand, index fingers alongside their cheek bones like matching book ends. Their similarities ended there. Marie wore a three-piece suit while Donnie’s tight-fitting t-shirt pulled up to display sculpted abdominal muscles. Obviously disinterested in what Bridges had to say, they stared out the window, bored. “Mr. Wyngarden, ah, about our potential visitors—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Bridges. You may speak freely in front of…” he gestured toward the two men, “our associates.”
“Sir, I believe we may’ve spotted Mr. Garber and Mr. Spangler entering the building a few minutes ago.”
Wyngarden’s jaw dropped.
Amused, Donnie uncrossed his legs and extended his hand toward Marie. Marie chuckled while reaching for his wallet. Plucking out a twenty-dollar bill, he handed it over to Donnie. “Well, Donnie, looks like you were right.” Donnie smiled, snapping the bill between his fingers.
Wyngarden glowered at Donnie and Marie. They took nothing seriously. He couldn’t understand why Rasmussen held them in such high regard. “Bridges, are you certain it’s them?”
“Sir, it’s hard to say, but—”
“Yes or no?”
“We believe so.”
“Where are they now?”
“They’re in the twentieth floor restroom, sir.”
Wyngarden flapped his mouth up and down like a land-locked fish. “Well, go get them! I want all entryways and exits locked down. A full elevator watch.” His voice lifted to a whine. “I’m surrounded by incompetents!” The two men snickered, enjoying Wyngarden’s panic attack.
“Yes sir!” Bridges walked from the room, damn near trotting as he reached the door.
“Well, we’ve got work to do,” said Donnie, rising from his chair.
“Where are you going?” shrieked Wyngarden.
Marie rose as well. “We have work to finish.”
“I need you to stay here. To protect me!”
Donnie sat down again, tenting his fingertips underneath his chin. “Mr. Wyngarden, I’m afraid you’re no longer our number one priority. We have a job to complete. We are not your personal bodyguards.” Marie nodded, cocking his head to the side as if to hear better.
“I demand you stay here. Mr. Rasmussen would want you to.”
Donnie hefted a thin, yellow eyebrow. “I’m not sure I agree with your assessment.”
Wyngarden pounded his desk, sending paper scattering to the floor. “If something were to happen to me, it would make headlines. LMI would come under scrutiny. I’m sure Mr. Rasmussen doesn’t want that to happen. And it’d all be on you.” With forced self-control, Wyngarden glared at the frightening men, hoping to reach their souls (wherever they had last left them).
“The man has a point, Donnie.”
“Yes, I do, gentlemen. I’ll double what Rasmussen’s paying you if you stay here until Garber and Spangler are caught!”
Donnie fell back into his chair, apparently weighing the offer. “The man is making an even better point, Marie.”
“Indeed he is.”
“Fine. Are you positive your ‘crackerjack’ security team can handle Garber and Spangler, Mr. Wyngarden? Without our involvement?”
“Yes.” Although Wyngarden couldn’t be certain of anything. Not any longer. Garber and Spangler already escaped these psychopaths twice. Yet Wyngarden felt more comfortable having them by his side, even if they did terrify him.
Marie poked Donnie’s knee with a fingertip. “Donnie, would you care to make another wager on the outcome?”
Donnie’s manic grin threatened to eat his square jaw. “Double or nothing?”
* * *
Something felt wrong. Hovering over a public toilet seat for the second time in a week, Leon listened. The building was too quiet, their entry much too easy. Not that Leon wanted to borrow trouble, a favorite saying of his mother’s. He just knew—absolutely knew—things had been too effortless. LMI had electronic and human spies planted everywhere. Every move Leon and Cody had made had been anticipated by LMI, always one step ahead of them. He’d been naïve believing they could just walk into LMI’s headquarters, sight unseen, and confront Wyngarden. The absolute quiet—the non-activity—sharpened warning wires that scraped at his nerves.
Time to move. “Cody, we’ve got to go,” he whispered.
Cody trounced down from his perch. His stall door swung open. He met Leon underneath the dull, yellow lighting, his skin the color of jaundice. “Whaddaya’ mean?”
“Something’s not right. They have to know we’re here. We need to change our plan.”
“To what? It’s not exactly like we have a plan.”
“I think we just need to go do it. Use surprise to our advantage. Speed and full-on strength.”
“Go kamikaze on their asses!”
“Yeah, something like that.” Leon uncapped several syringes and positioned them carefully into his suit pocket for easy access. Tip-toeing across the floor, the
y stopped in front of the door. “Ready?”
Cody raised his gun as affirmation. This time Leon let him keep it out.
Leon reached for the door handle then stopped. Too bright; they’d be an easy target. He flipped the lights off and waited for his eyes to acclimate to the darkness. Cody pressed his back against the wall next to the door
In one swift motion, Leon yanked the door open and kicked the door-stop down. Klok. He backed up behind the door, closing his eyes to amplify his hearing. From somewhere in the bowels of the building, the air-conditioning unit hummed. A sink plopped droplets of water onto the porcelain. His pulse rambled through his ears like a locomotive. A very slight, nearly imperceptible swish. Too restrained, too hushed. Human sounding. Clothing brushed up against a moving limb. Leon tilted his head, honing in on the sound. A whisper.
A shadow slithered across the carpet in front of the open door. A beam of light clicked on, sweeping the bathroom entryway. Leon pulled out a syringe. An arm reached in. A hand fumbled for the light-switch. The light flipped on. Two men in dark suits, guns held at arm’s length, stood next to each other in the doorway.
Blinking the harsh rush of light away, Leon lunged with the needle. The intruder fell forward, a mass of dead weight. A small burst of air rushed by Leon’s ear, followed by a loud crash behind him. The bullet punctured a stall door, an eggshell crack running down the white door’s length. Leon twisted aside, felt his neck pop. Fast as a rocket, Cody slammed his briefcase into the shooter’s face. The man staggered back and dropped to the floor. Cody whipped his pistol out, preparing to fire. Leon batted Cody’s arm down and fished out another syringe, finishing it his way. For all Leon knew the men were innocent security guards trying to make a living. On the other hand, they did just try to kill them.
Cody dropped his suitcase, deeming it no longer necessary. The nerve-wracking bang made Leon jump. LMI knew they’re on the premises. So much for the element of surprise.
Leon peeked around the corner, looking both directions. Although the hallway appeared empty, he heard raised voices elsewhere. Powered by adrenaline and fear, Leon raced down the corridor. Cody followed at his heels. The stairwell lay directly ahead.
Leon pushed the door open. It creaked, resonating throughout the stairwell with a hollow echo. They mounted the stairs, two at a time.
Cody passed Leon with a cocky grin, waiting for him on every landing. “Come on, old man.”
Breathless, Leon managed, “Don’t call me ‘old man.’”
The lights clacked off once they reached the twenty-fifth floor.
“Dammit!” Leon grasped for the railing, the phantom memory etched into his mind. They stood, petrified in darkness. Leon knew they could stumble up the black stairwell, an easy course to navigate. But what might lie in wait for them worried him.
A sharp click startled Leon. A small circle of light illuminated the stairwell. Cody held up a lighter. “Benefits of smoking, yo.”
Bam! A door crashed open above them, followed by shouts. A clambering of footfalls barreled down the stairwell. Cody extinguished the lighter. Leon and Cody backtracked a flight of stairs then knelt, stretching their arms through the railings.
Closer…closer.
“Now,” Leon said as he missed the man entirely. Cody managed to snare a foot and give it a jerk. A second man collided into the first. They plummeted down the stairwell. A dull crack sounded, a skull impacting concrete. Leon rushed toward the entangled men, his syringe ready. Only one man stirred, not for long. Cody snagged his gun, slipping it away.
Leon stood still, listening. Silence. They continued their ascent into darkness. Cody’s lighter began to falter, the flame growing weaker. At the twenty-eighth floor landing, Leon clapped a hand on Cody’s shoulder, begging for a breather.
“Come on, Leon, we got this by the balls! We got it.”
Leon nodded and pushed himself up the remaining flights of stairs. On the thirtieth floor landing, Leon stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “This is it, Cody. Whatever happens...thanks.”
“Whatever.”
Leon twisted the knob, met with resistance, and saw the security box with a small cup for finger identification. Of course. He should’ve foreseen this. “We’re going to have to drag one of the men up here.”
“What? Uh-uh, hellz with that! I got a better idea.” Cody turned, hopping halfway down the flight before Leon could respond.
When Leon reached the twenty-fourth landing, he saw Cody straddled over one of the unconscious security guards. Cody’s dying lighter lit upon something in his other hand. A hunting knife, sharp, long and deadly.
A sick feeling grew in Leon’s stomach. He knew what Cody planned, but sometimes, when your survival’s at stake, one has to accept ugly decisions. “Cody,” he whispered, “where’d you get the knife?”
“Don’t matter now. Which finger is it?”
“The thumb…or maybe the forefinger…I’m not sure.”
“I’ll take them all.” Cody sawed through the wrist. Leon turned away once blood started spreading across the cement. But not before he saw Cody’s ear-to-ear, jack-o-lantern grin illuminated by the orange flame.
Crk, zzt, squick, zzt, chkkk…
A wet, ripping sound. A squeak of metal grinding upon bone. Another liquid tearing noise accompanied Cody’s satisfied grunt. He held up the severed hand and said, “Give me five.”
Leon tried to still the wave of hot lava erupting inside his stomach but couldn’t. It splashed over his cupped hand. He bucked forward, preparing for round two, but the door opening above them stilled his nausea.
“Dammit! They’re everywhere. Come on.” Leon ran up the stairs, the open door on the twenty-sixth floor his destination. The men racing down sounded like a parade of panic, endless clatter and calamity. Leon felt their footfalls throbbing through his hand on the railing.
They burst through the door and into the hallway. Leon didn’t remember pulling the gun out; it just appeared, shaking in his hand. At the end of the corridor, the elevators beckoned, their last chance of reaching the offices of LMI. “Are you ready, Cody?”
“Let’s do it.”
Guns drawn, they hurtled down the hallway. Leon covered the right side, Cody the left. Cody reached the elevator door first, repeatedly punching the up button. The detached hand, tucked under his arm, saluted Leon with a dead wave.
Behind them, the stairwell door flung open. “Stop!” Three men rushed toward them, their guns leading. Whiffs zipped by Leon’s head. He hugged the wall, punching the elevator button, urging it to hurry. Glass shattered as a stray bullet destroyed a fire extinguisher case. After stuffing the hand into his suit pocket, Cody snagged the extinguisher. He returned fire, sending the guards cowering into doorways. The bell dinged at their backs. The doors slid open. Leon and Cody leaped into the elevator, diving to the sides. Carpeted footfalls grew louder while the doors remained open.
“Cody, use the damn hand!”
Noticing the finger module next to the control panel, Cody jolted his head back in a just-awakened manner. He placed the thumb inside, hitting the thirtieth-floor button. Nothing. Next he slipped the index finger inside. The men closed in. Leon heard a whisper, a footstep, the floor groaning. A shout. A green light on the control panel sprang to life. The elevator doors crawled shut. Bullets knocked against the steel doors, filling the cabin with sonic reverb. Leon clamped his hands over his ears, the gun metal cold against his temple. A well-aimed shot knifed between the doors, cracking the mirror behind them. The doors finally closed with a mechanized wheeze.
Leon and Cody stared at one another, wild-eyed and breathless. “They’re going to be…waiting for us.”
“Bring it, bee-yotch! Guess I won’t need this no more.” Cody tossed the hand to the floor. It dropped onto the carpet, fingers reaching up as if asking God, “why me?”
Leon looked away, forcing his attention elsewhere. It took him a moment to register the music. The song Happy Together hummed gently over the
elevator’s speaker. Leon forced a chuckle, more like a detached whimper.
“It doesn’t look good, Cody. We’re probably…going to go out like Butch and Sundance.”
Cody stared at him, dumbfounded. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“If we get out of this, I’ll show you the movie.”
When the elevator reached the twenty-ninth floor, Leon said, “Kneel down.”
“What? Why?”
“They’re going to be aiming high. If we’re kneeling—one knee on the ground—we can sprint out of here.”
“Got it.” Still carrying the fire extinguisher like a baby, Cody dropped to one knee, his pistol raised in his free hand.
Leon steadied his gun, tried to get comfortable with it in his grip. No other way around it. Time to defend himself. Accept the damn thing.
The elevator crept to a stop. Leon felt the bell ding in his teeth. Or thought he did. Long seconds passed. The doors released with a suction-filled crunch. They stooped, waiting, staring into the blackness.
A lightshow erupted. Silent gunfire lit up the office like a strobe light. Bullets penetrated the wall behind them with a string of cracks. The mirror came down, showering them with glass. The firefly-like gun blasts exposed a spacious office area, a chaotic battleground. Venetian blinds clattered to the office’s floor. Leon counted five men seeking cover behind cubicle walls.
Cody howled, shooting out haphazardly. “How many of these dicks are there?” One of the men toppled, pulling a cubicle wall on top of him.
“Go, Cody!” Cody ran out, spraying bullets in every direction. His knife dropped behind him, chunked into the carpet, the handle wobbling. Leon jumped out of the elevator in the opposite direction, staying low. He landed on his knees in front of a receptionist’s desk. When he peeked over the desktop, the desk’s wood splintered. Shrapnel blew by him. Papers flew up, floating down like massive snowflakes. Shimmying beneath the desk, he placed his cheek against the floor. Underneath a close-by cubicle wall, he saw shoe-tips pointing at him. Estimating the position of the man’s vital organs, he aimed upward. His finger squeezed the trigger. The bullet ripped through the flimsy structure. A groan followed. Leon scrambled from beneath the desk and crawled to the side. No time for remorse.
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