Benson suspected the CIA wasn’t innocent. “Did we brief the Director of the FBI on the DIANA crisis, sir?”
Benson noticed a slight twitch of the Director’s left eye. “I didn’t. I assumed someone on the Security Council would.” The Director exhaled, “I may have dropped the ball on this one.”
Benson replied, “That’s the least of our problems, sir.”
*****
Sophia’s jet landed and she was rushed into a waiting FBI van. She changed into the uniform and accessories she had requested as a special FBI task agent drove her to a delivery vehicle parked one block from Mason’s building. Sophia printed a return address on an envelope marked ‘High Security’ for Mason Global Investments. She printed Dr. Gustoff Kyser’s information on the return slip, inserted a folded piece of paper inside, and sealed the envelope. J.T. had instructed her on how to access Mason’s secret office and how to activate Mason’s phone. Her orders were to secure Mason and his office, and contact the taskforce to enter.
Sophia drove the delivery van to double park in front of Mason’s building. She took a deep breath and walked through the tall glass doors of the lobby. A large pillar, lettered in gold, served as a directory and identified the building’s occupants. Global Investments was on the fourteenth floor, just as J.T. had said. Sophia tensed as she passed through a series of four weapon detectors. Her uniform was a prototype of lightweight lead fibers and was supposed to make her weapons undetectable. However, it wouldn’t be the first time equipment failed. She passed.
Six feet into the marble rotunda, she eyed the bank of elevators. Once inside, she pushed the button for the fourteenth floor. A buzzer sounded and three men in suits walked to the elevator and escorted her back into the lobby. They were big men, clearly security staff. Sophia mentally named them: Chiseled Chin, Stoney Face and Beady Eyes.
Chiseled Chin said, “You’ll have to return tomorrow. The fourteenth floor isn’t available today.”
Sophia glanced at the letter in her hand. “This delivery is a ‘High Security’ message for a Mr. Mason. If I can’t deliver it today, it will be returned to sender.”
Stoney Face shrugged. “Then return it to sender.”
Sophia turned to leave.
Beady Eyes said, “Wait. I’ll take it to Mason.”
Sophia shook her head. “I have to delivery this in person. Can’t you call Mr. Mason? This is marked as an important document and it is a timed delivery.”
Chiseled Chin turned his back on them and began whispering into his phone. He turned back around. “Who is the document from?”
Sophia read from the return address, “Dr. Gustoff Kyser, Geneva, Switzerland.”
He repeated the return name into his phone and then ended the call. “Come with us.”
Sophia watched as three more men in suits took positions in the lobby in anticipation of her escorts leaving. The bulges in their suit jackets left no doubt that they were also armed. This was a heavily guarded building if there were six security men visible before she even left the lobby.
She passed. Chiseled Chin stood in front of her and the other two flanked her in the elevator. She secretly began to unsnap the various ‘pockets’ of her uniform with the hand movements of a skilled magician. She scratched her wig and pulled an open knife into her cuff. J.T. had said that Mason had a private elevator and this one had no numbers for the floors. This elevator had no numbers. She hoped he had been truthful about the other information he had provided as well.
Flashes of light behind the air ventilator signaled each floor as they passed. Sophia counted thirteen flashes before the elevator stopped. They were on the fourteenth floor. The elevator door began to open and she noticed both men flanking her had repositioned their hands near their jacket vests. They were wearing shoulder harnesses. Chiseled Chin stepped out into the large foyer area, looked both ways, and signaled them out of the elevator.
Sophia estimated the marble hall they were in at about 15 feet wide and 40 feet long. Glass walls revealed the bustle of busy people working in tight cubicles. Many wore headsets and spoke with stressed expressions. Some stood, waved papers, and appeared to be yelling orders across the large room. The gold lettering on the glass proclaimed ‘Global Investments: New Order’. A door opened briefly in the center of the hall and the eruption of noise blasted into the serenity of the hall.
A young man crossed the hall and entered the offices on the other side. A similar blast of noise assaulted the air until that door closed behind him. Good, the offices were well soundproofed. She glanced at her escorts as they neared the large mahogany door at the end of the hall. This could get noisy.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nick’s phone rang; the Caller ID said it was his dad. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?” Nick and Dalton’s jet was just landing.
Martin Stryker braced himself. “I have some news, Nick. Your mom has come home. She wants to see you in person to let you know, but I thought it would help you to have some warning. I’ve already talked with her.”
Martin’s news took Nick’s breath away. He had waited 25 years to hear this. “Dad, what…what is she like?”
Nick heard a warmth in his Dad’s voice he that hadn’t heard for years. Martin answered, “She’s still herself, Nick. Her wonderful, beautiful self. My feet haven’t touched the ground for four hours.”
Nick swallowed, “Is she with you now?”
Martin answered, “No. She said she had one last thing to do for the FBI. I’m hoping we can get together tomorrow for the Fourth of July. Would you and Lacey be able to come to the cabin?”
Nick’s mind raced. Tomorrow he would see his mom! Then he remembered the egg shaped mass that Elliott and Chris were desperately trying to destroy. Would there be a tomorrow?
“I’ll be there. Dad, thanks for calling.”
Nick felt a new urgency about their mission. As he walked down the steps from the jet and rushed to the waiting van he prayed that Chris and Elliott would discover some miracle.
Nick and Dalton were briefed on the drive from the airport to the building on West 57th Street. The sidewalks were packed with pedestrians and they watched as more than one group of people entered Mason’s building. Dalton grabbed two extra clips for his gun and slipped them into his pockets. Nick checked his pistol and studied the box of ‘toys’ the CIA had brought for them. Nick selected a few grenades for his jacket pockets and slipped two knives into his boots.
Dalton glanced over and raised one eyebrow. “I heard you’ve still got a thing for grenades. Remember, this is downtown New York City. They’re a little skittish about loud noises.”
Nick asked one of the agents in the van, “So, there’s already an FBI guy in the building? How much lead time has he had?”
The agent answered, “About 15 minutes. We don’t have a way to communicate with him. He doesn’t know that we need the computers and Mason secured, not destroyed.” The agent spoke to Dalton, “Go in and head for the fourteenth floor. Assume that Mason has men everywhere; we estimate there are about 20 of his men in the building. It might not get interesting until you get near his office. You’re authorized to use deadly force if needed. Signal if you want cleanup to follow you through.”
Dalton said, “There are thirteen floors of legitimate businesses between us and Mason. Civilians might get in the way.”
The agent answered, “We don’t have time to clear the building and we don’t want to warn Mason that we’re hear. This is a priority one mission. Try not to kill any innocents.”
Nick slid the van door open. “You comin’, cowboy?”
Dalton grinned, “We can’t let the FBI get all the glory, can we?”
Nick and Dalton walked the half block to the front doors of Mason’s building. A group of three businessmen walked in just a few steps ahead of them. Nick noticed the weapon detectors and decided they may as well hurdle the half walls supporting them, since they weren’t going to pass anyway.
Dalton whispered, “Got three
stationed at 7, 12, and 2.”
Nick answered, “I’ll take 12 and 2. You take 7 and the guy at the lobby phone. He’s packin’.”
Dalton was surprised that he had missed the grip of the man’s pistol exposed above his belt. Nick was still sharp. Nick and Dalton jumped the half walls at the same time and the three security men rushed toward them, grabbing for their weapons.
Nick kicked the first man in the head sending him hard onto the marble floor. Blood splattered from the man’s nose and covered the floor area around his head. Nick grabbed the pistol from the second man, slammed it against his temple, and sent him staggering backwards. The man folded to the floor and remained motionless. The first man tried to stand and Nick landed a kick to the man’s knee. He screamed in agony as he fell back to the floor and Nick kicked him again on the side of his head. He was out. Nick took his pistol and glanced over to where Dalton was finishing up on the lobby phone man. The man slid down the wall and fell into Mr. 7 O’clock on the floor.
Some woman started screaming. Nick and Dalton entered an elevator and pushed the button for the fourteenth floor.
Dalton pulled out his cell phone and hit a button. “Cleanup in aisle one.”
Nick pulled out his pistol and put one of his knives through a loop on his belt. “If I were them, I’d stop this elevator.”
Just then the elevator stopped.
Dalton reached up and pushed the escape panel into the black elevator shaft cavity. As he hefted his body to the roof of the elevator he said, “You had to say it, didn’t you, asshole.”
*****
Sophia waited on the hall side of Mason’s office door with her two flanking escorts. Chiseled Chin had walked into the office and closed the big mahogany door behind him. Sophia dropped the message envelope and moved to pick it up.
Beady Eyes said, “I’ll get it.”
Sophia slid her hands into her trouser pockets retrieving a small tranquilizer injection gun. She shot each guard in the thigh with the high velocity pellets. The men appeared momentarily stunned and began to slowly sway. Sophia waited at the door as both men crumbled to the floor. They would be out for hours.
Chiseled Chin opened the door. Sophia shot him with the pellet in the thigh and pushed her way into the large office. She closed the door behind her as Chiseled Chin fell to the floor. The room was l-shaped. Sophia saw the credenza next to the bookcase. That was Mason’s secret office. She looked to her right and saw Mason sitting at his massive mahogany desk in front of floor to ceiling windows.
“Roll your chair to the left, away from the desk, Mr. Mason.” Sophia’s pistol was pointed at Mason’s chest.
Mason slowly rolled his chair away from his desk. Sophia stepped around the desk and saw the button Mason had probably just pushed for security. She took two sets of handcuffs from her jacket. “Please, sit on the floor with your knees to your chin.”
Mason moved slowly to the floor.
Sophia handed him a set of cuffs. “Cuff one wrist to one ankle please. I’m aware we have limited time, sir. Trust that I will shoot you if you try my patience.”
Sophia kept her pistol leveled at Mason’s head. “Hold out your other wrist, please.”
Mason held out his arm and Sophia cuffed that wrist to the chain of the first cuff. Then she sat on Mason’s chair and stared at him.
Mason asked, “Who are you?”
Sophia answered, “Where’s your phone?”
Mason’s jaw set.
“Very well.” Sophia screwed a silencer on her pistol. “I’ll allow you one opportunity to rethink your answer. Where’s your phone?”
Mason snarled, “In my jacket pocket.”
Sophia felt Mason’s hot breath on her wrist as she reached past his face to his jacket pocket and retrieved the phone. There was a slight change of room pressure coming from the direction of the door. Sophia took cover behind Mason’s desk, shot Mason with a tranquilizer pellet and waited. She heard the rustle of clothing and felt the floor vibrations of several people rush into the room.
Sophia stood and swept her automatic pistol, twice, across the three men that had entered. They dropped to the floor and Sophia once again walked over and shut the large door. She had learned years ago the value of the pressure and noise change that came from a door opening. It was as good as an alarm system.
She walked over to the credenza and felt along the edge for the button. She found it and listened as the hydraulic lock mechanism clicked and a section of wall effortlessly slid behind the bookcase. More of Mason’s men would be coming soon.
*****
Nick and Dalton crawled up the sides of the elevator shaft by grabbing cables and pipes, occasionally using the utility ladder for a foothold. They knew that Mason’s men were racing toward them. Dalton looked above him and saw that Nick was already at the top of the shaft and dismantling the hydraulic mechanism for the doors.
Dalton arrived next to him and asked, “What are you, part monkey?”
Nick signaled quiet. He could hear people running in the hall outside of the elevator shaft. Then silence.
Nick whispered, “We’re on the thirteenth floor. There must be a staircase close by to take us up.”
Angry voices filled the elevator shaft from below and gunfire from automatic weapons began spitting bullets up the shaft. Chips of concrete sprayed them as Nick cut through the last hydraulic line. He considered dropping a grenade into the open vent of the elevator below to stop the shooters. The risk of collateral damage through the walls made him change his mind. They were nearly out of the shaft anyway.
They pried open the elevator door and stepped into the expansive hall. A brightly lit exit sign with an arrow pointed left at the end of the hall. Voices could be heard from some distance away and Nick and Dalton sprinted to follow the exit sign. They opened the stairwell doors, made their way to the top landing and looked around the corner to the wide hall of the fourteenth floor. At the end of the hall was a large mahogany door with two bodies sprawled on the floor. There was no sign of the men they had heard running ahead of them.
Nick and Dalton walked casually past the glass windows of the offices toward the big mahogany door. Suddenly a glass door opened to the hall and a woman glanced first at Nick and Dalton and then at men on the floor. She screamed.
Nick waved his gun at her and said, “Get back in the office. We’re cops.”
The woman hastily retreated back into the office and Nick and Dalton whipped around to face the roar of noise coming up from behind them. The thunderous sound of heavy boots on marble steps echoed from the exit stairway at the end of the hall. Three men turned the corner, guns leveled.
Dalton shouted, “CIA. Drop your weapons!”
The men stopped and took aim.
Nick shot the one with the AK47. Dalton shot the man in the middle. The last man used his injured buddy as a shield. His automatic weapon shattered the glass of the entire wall as he fell.
Dalton dropped to the floor. “Damn it, I’m hit.”
Two more men rounded the corner. Nick positioned himself in front of Dalton and emptied his clip on the men. The walls echoed the sounds of more men approaching. Nick took Dalton’s gun as Dalton reloaded Nick’s. Four more men rounded the corner.
Dalton said, “Get out of my way!”
Nick leaned to the side enough for Dalton to see. The advancing men stepped over the bodies and stood in the growing blood pool. They swept their automatic weapons from side to side across the hall. Nick and Dalton had no cover. Nick felt at least two bullets hit his vest before the last man fell. Over the screaming from the offices they could hear gunfire on the floor below them. The cleanup crew must have encountered some of Mason’s men too.
Nick stood and helped Dalton to stand. They quickly studied each other for injuries.
Nick asked, “Where are you hit?”
Dalton answered, “Thigh. Feels like a through and through. Couple of flesh wounds. I think that’s it.”
Nick tore th
e front of his shirt and tied it around Dalton’s leg. “Let’s go see Mason. Can you walk?”
Dalton shifted his weight to his injured leg. “Yeah. You’re bleeding.”
Nick said, “Flesh wounds.”
Nick opened Mason’s door and walked in. Four men were sprawled on the floor. Dalton flanked Nick, both of them sweeping their pistols from side to side. They turned the corner in the massive office. An unconscious man sat on the floor handcuffed and a woman stood next to a desk, her gun pointed at them.
“Nick? Don’t shoot!”
Nick stared in disbelief. “Mom?”
Dalton whipped his head to look at Nick. “Mom?”
Sophia lowered her pistol to her side and gasped at Nick’s injuries. “Nick, you’re hurt.”
A rush of memories flooded his mind at the sound of her voice. “I’m okay. I…I can’t believe it’s you.”
Sophia walked toward him and timidly asked, “May I hug you, please?”
Nick opened his arms and Sophia buried her head in his shoulder. Nick’s throat tightened and he swallowed. He was suddenly a ten-year-old boy again. There were no words to describe what it felt like to have his mom’s arms wrapped around him again. Holding him tightly. To smell her hair. To feel her warm cheek against his. He heard her whisper, “I love you.”
Their moment was abruptly interrupted when the door of the office flew open. Sophia twisted Nick to the side, raised her pistol and began shooting. A bullet hit her and she dropped to the floor. Dalton fired as Mason’s men kept coming through the door. Nick shot the last man to enter the room just as Dalton’s gun clicked; he was out of ammo.
Further down the hall Nick could see a group of men running toward them. One of them shouted, “CIA.”
Nick dropped to the floor next to his mom and brushed her hair from her face. The blood on his hands staining her forehead. She was beautiful. His heart was pounding; it couldn’t end like this. “Mom?”
Zero Margin: Nick Stryker, Book Three The Shallow End Gals (Nick Stryker Series 3) Page 18