End Game (Jack Noble #12)

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End Game (Jack Noble #12) Page 25

by L. T. Ryan


  “Guess she was right,” he said softly, pointing toward the only door with soft light flowing from underneath. “Four-four-zero-five.”

  “What do you suppose is in there?”

  “Gotta be something valuable after claiming all these lives.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll even recognize it if we find it.”

  He shrugged. “I’m gonna call Lexi up.”

  I split my attention between the door and watching Bear as he motioned for Lexi to join us.

  She scanned the hallway in both directions, her eyes settled on the man on the floor. “Who’s the dead guy?”

  “Friend of Bear’s,” I said.

  Bear chuckled. “Looks like you figured out the cipher. Good job. We’re taking bets on what’s inside now.”

  “I wish I knew.” She wiped her forehead and exhaled deeply. “Thanos was supposed to tell me everything that morning at his house.”

  “We need to get in there,” I said. “I’d rather surprise whoever’s in that room than have them aware we’re coming.”

  Bear took point on the door. I stood to his left, pressed against the wall. Lexi was on the right, pistol aimed at the hunk of wood separating us from inside. Bear backed up, bounced on the balls of his feet a couple times, then in a fluid motion lunged forward, driving his size sixteens through the door near the handle. The door cracked in half, busted off the hinges. The deadbolt snapped.

  Lexi moved into position, covering Bear. I moved in front of her and went in low. She placed her hand on my right shoulder as she squeezed past the doorway and positioned herself against the wall. I scanned the apartment. The same emergency lights lit the space. To the right was an eating area. To the left a sitting area with a blank television. The kitchen was empty. A hallway stretched into the darkness directly in front of us. Voices called out from the back room.

  I took a few steps inside, aimed the rifle down the hallway with a flashlight clamped between my left palm and the barrel, bright enough to temporarily blind anyone who stepped in its path.

  Bear moved past me, posted up at the refrigerator, a few feet from the hallway opening.

  The door at the end of the corridor flung open. A barrel poked through, then turned toward me. I stepped out the way. The round ripped through the wall. By the time I moved back into position, the shooter had retreated. The open doorway behind me felt unsafe. There could be others in the same building, making their way up. Also, the shot would not go unnoticed. Someone would place a call to the authorities. A gunshot would have to take priority over most calls during a blackout.

  I slowly moved toward the hallway, nodded at Bear as I walked past. He glanced toward Lexi and held up a finger. I knew he had my back. The shooter had emerged from the open door at the end on the left. If only he’d pop out now. I’d tag him before he knew I was there. I stopped short of the door, waited against the opposite wall with the rifle aimed a foot above the latch.

  Two male voices spoke hurriedly in hushed tones. Closing my eyes, I tried to picture where they were in the room. Chances are someplace with cover, so first thing to look for would be an overturned dresser or other piece of furniture. Considering the part of town we were in, I didn’t think anything they’d be hiding behind would have much stopping power.

  Bear stood close behind me now. His deep inhalations were slightly raspy. The cold did that to him. A clock ticked down in my mind and with every passing second we drew closer to an inescapable situation. The men in the room weren’t coming out.

  Which meant we had to go in.

  60

  Bear did the honors, slamming his foot into the door. It whipped open. The men cursed us as they dove out of sight.

  I leveled the rifle and stepped through the opening. The flashlight lit up all corners of the room. As I suspected, a dresser had been knocked over, but it appeared heavier than I had thought. I placed three rounds two feet off the ground, and a foot and a half apart from each other. They tore through the furniture. The second shot earned a pained scream. Seconds later the guy popped up clutching his stomach. I adjusted my sights, fired, blew a hole in his forehead.

  “Get back!”

  Bear’s words came just in time. I saw the barrel extend over the dresser and switched off the flashlight. Muzzle flash lit up the room like a strobe light as I dropped to a knee, then flopped flat on my stomach up against the dresser. The guy sprayed the room and hallway with automatic fire, punching through plaster. It rained down, crashing on the floor. Within seconds the assault ended.

  I rolled away from the dresser and got to a knee. Bear popped back in the room, hovered behind me, unloaded on the guy. Every shot hit him damn near dead center. His body jerked, head snapped, weapon swung from the strap around his neck. He collapsed to the ground.

  My ears rang. The air stunk of gunpowder. I swept the flashlight across the smoky room.

  Lexi called out from the hallway. “Everyone OK?”

  “We’re good,” Bear said. “These other two guys, not so much. Keep us covered while we search the room.”

  Bear picked up the dresser and pulled each drawer out. They were filled with shirts and pants and socks and underwear, but nothing more. He went around behind it, stepping over the dead men on the floor, and smashed the back panel until he could wedge his fingers behind it.

  “Anything?” I asked after he had it removed.

  He shook his head, pulled out a flashlight, turned his attention to the men. I dismantled a nightstand while Bear searched the guys.

  “No phones,” he said. “Not even a wallet or money clip.”

  “Think they knew we were coming?”

  “Guess it’s possible.” He aimed a beam of light in my direction. “Anything in there?”

  “Nada.”

  “Let’s check there.” He zigzagged the light over a louvered closet or bathroom door.

  “I’ll do the honors.” I pulled myself off the ground using the rifle as a crutch, took a step forward.

  The doors flung open and a small framed man holding a revolver as long as his forearm opened fire. I dropped to the side, bringing the rifle up as I went down, and pulled the trigger without taking aim.

  The man fired every round his gun held, and continued pulling the trigger for several seconds after he ran out of ammunition. His mouth hung open, eyes bugged out, staring straight out as though he were looking at a ghost. He held his firearm close to his chest. The barrel drooped toward the floor, then the gun slid out of his hand. Blood spread from a hole in his chest, spilled from his mouth.

  I glanced back at Bear. He stood in a defensive stance, pistol aimed at the guy.

  “Good work,” I said.

  Nodding, he lowered his piece. “Thanks, man.”

  I shuffled toward the closet. The guy’s mouth worked open and closed like a fish out of water. He tried to talk, but only managed a couple gurgling sounds. I felt nothing watching him collapse and die. After all, he tried to kill us. But we would have preferred to take one of them alive. These bastards didn’t give us much of an opportunity for that, though.

  “What’s that?” Bear aimed a thin beam to the side of the guy. “A briefcase?”

  I grabbed the metal case. The guy’s arm lifted with it, attached with handcuffs. Under the handle was a ten-digit combination lock built into the case.

  “What are the chances that’s related to Thanos?” Bear said.

  I searched the guy’s pockets but couldn’t find a key for the handcuffs. “I’d say pretty damn good. No way to unlock the cuffs, though.”

  Bear held up a finger, left the room. He and Lexi exchanged a few words, but I could only make out the sound of their voices. A few seconds later, he returned with a cleaver.

  “You up for this?” he said.

  “All you, man.” I got to my feet and took a few steps back, searching the room for a hiding place where someone might’ve stashed the key. It wouldn’t be in the room, or the apartment. Someone on the outside had the key to the hand
cuffs, and the combination to the briefcase. I had a couple suspects in mind. Thanos was an obvious choice, but I didn’t believe it was him. I think he knew of this place, but that’s all. What about the people trying to kill him? Again, that was possible. Yashkin’s fingerprints were all over this, but if I had to guess, I think he wanted to know the location rather than protect it. He wanted the briefcase.

  Of course, I could have it all wrong.

  It took six good whacks with the cleaver to sever the man’s arm at the wrist. Bear discarded the hand like a bad cut of meat.

  “Gonna clean this off,” he said, holding the briefcase up and stepping into the hallway.

  I took one last glance at the carnage and then exited the room. Bear opened a door in the middle of the hall, shone his light inside, then stepped into the darkness. The water cut on, splashed over his hands and the briefcase.

  Lexi stood by the front doorway. She looked exhausted, but smiled when she spotted me.

  “How’re you holding up?” she asked.

  The ringing in my ears from all the gunfire made it so I barely heard her. And there was something else distracting me.

  Shadows blocked the dull red glow in the hallway.

  61

  “Lexi!”

  The figure stepped into the doorway before she could react. A pistol appeared momentarily, slid behind Lexi. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the expression on my face. She turned to face the shadowy assailant.

  I’d left the rifle in the bedroom. I pulled the HK, but there was no shot available. She was in the way. The attacker opened fire on Lexi as she lashed out at him. Her body jerked back, then she caved in as another shot sent her to the floor.

  The guy was in my sights. I pulled the HK’s trigger. Nothing happened. I squeezed again. The slide was jammed. Before I could attempt to fix it, the man turned his firearm on me. I dropped where I stood and rolled toward the wall. Several shots were fired within a few seconds. The sounds bounced off the walls and ceiling of the narrow corridor behind me, sounded like shots were being fired from both ends. I racked the slide multiple times and cleared the jam, then chambered a fresh round. Everything went silent except for the ringing in my ears. That only grew louder.

  I rolled over my right leg, onto my stomach, aimed at the doorway. Empty. Where had he gone?

  Bear hopped over me, said, “Are you all right?” He had his sidearm pointed at the front of the apartment as he reached down to help me up.

  I grabbed his hand and got to one knee. “Yeah, I think so.” Looking around the room, I spotted two bodies on the floor. “You got him?”

  “Think we both did.” He turned away, pulling me up as he started toward Lexi’s body.

  We both knelt down next to her.

  “Help me turn her,” I said, already hooking her arm and pulling her torso off the ground. It was the wrong thing to do, but I could tell by the exit wounds that she didn’t have much time left. Maybe if we were inside Grady, one of the top trauma hospitals in the US, at the moment she was shot, she’d have a chance. But here in Moscow? Forget it. Even if they could help, they’d only patch her up enough for the KGB to go to work on her.

  Lexi stared up at us, but it looked as though she saw past us. Her fingers extended, moving back and forth slightly. I pressed my palm into hers. She gripped my hand tightly for a moment. Then her grip went slack. She worked her mouth, trying to talk. I leaned in so our faces were almost touching.

  She let go of me. Her hand fell to her chest, where she fished a chain from under her tight shirt. There was a locket on the end in the shape of a heart. “My-my-my…” She closed her eyes hard, grimaced in an effort to beckon death to wait a few more seconds. After swallowing hard, she continued. “Give this to my father.” Her eyes locked on mine and I saw the moment life left her body.

  “Fuck!” I screamed, yanking the locket from the chain. Rage built like lava, climbing my throat, filling my body with fire. I wanted to kill someone, yet I had no idea who was responsible.

  Bear walked over to the window, parted the blinds with his thumb and forefinger. “We gotta get going, Jack. I hear sirens, and I’d say ninety-nine percent chance they’re coming for us.”

  I got to my feet, leaned over, pulled Lexi up. “Help me, man. We can’t leave her here. Can’t let her be found like this.”

  Bear pushed me out of the way and heaved Lexi over his shoulder. Her hair spilled down past his waist. “Take the briefcase.” He extended his arm toward me. I grabbed it from him, and he pulled his pistol from his waistband and started toward the hallway.

  I reached out, said, “Wait a sec.” I reached in her pocket and retrieved the satellite phone. She’d programmed the driver’s number in it before he had dropped us off. Heading down the stairs behind Bear, I called Artur and told him to meet us at the end of the alley.

  Bear stepped into the hallway. I stopped and stood over the man who’d killed Lexi. A ski mask covered his face. Bending over, I tugged it off his head.

  “Christ.”

  Bear stopped in the middle of the hallway, looked back at me. “What?”

  “It’s Matt.” I recalled his real name. “Or Vasiley Rudin, I should say. Yashkin’s guy, the same one that killed Thanos and Christiana. How the hell did he track us here?”

  “Let’s figure it out when we’re away from here.” Bear hustled down the hall. “Come on, Jack. Let’s go.”

  I snapped a photo of Rudin, then left the apartment. We hurried down the stairs and through the main level hallway to the rear of the building. A woman holding a baby leaned out of her open doorway. Her eyes got wide when she saw us and she slammed her door shut. The baby’s cries pierced the silence.

  Bear stopped at the exit. “That piece of shit cleared and good to go now?”

  I held the pistol up, aimed at the ceiling. “Yeah, I’ll take the lead.”

  As he backed up to the wall, Lexi’s body started to roll off his shoulder. He dipped down, then up, repositioning her. For a moment, she looked alive, as though she hadn’t been shot just a few minutes earlier.

  “Come on, man,” Bear said. “Let’s do this.”

  I leaned into the door, cracked it open. Frigid air sliced through the opening. Felt like my sweat froze into a thin sheet of ice. I shook off the cold and opened the door far enough to get a good look at the alley. A long stretch of white folded out past the last building.

  “Let’s move.” I led the way with little regard for my exposed firearm. Any of the bums that moved as we approached found themselves staring down the barrel. If one dared come a step closer to us, I’d have no problem ending their life.

  We were halfway down the alley when the sedan pulled up. Artur stepped out, looking over his shoulder at the way he had come. He placed one hand on his forehead, blocking the falling snow. A few seconds later, he motioned with his other hand for us to hurry, then he turned and opened the rear door.

  Bear double-timed it, moving past me. He stepped out from the cover of the buildings and managed to fit both himself and Lexi’s corpse into the back of the car.

  Artur met me at the edge of the alley. I nearly collapsed as I stepped into the open area. He threaded an arm under mine and helped me into the passenger seat, then ran to the other side of the car and got in. A half-block down the road he said, “What happened in there?”

  I leveled the pistol at his chest. “You tell me.”

  He glanced between the pistol and the snow-covered road, keeping the sedan within the tracks left behind by other cars. The orange lights lining the road turned on. Windows along the apartment-lined street flickered with light.

  “What are you doing?” he yelled.

  “You tell me what happened back there, Artur, because as far as I know, only a few people are aware we’re in Russia, and you’re the only one on the ground with that information.” I lifted the pistol so it was aimed at his head. “Who the hell did you tell?”

  62

  Artur kept the wheel steady and remained
focused on the road. Apparently seeing the pistol aimed at him once was enough. I got the feeling that he wasn’t like me or Bear. That his job consisted mostly of what he was doing right now, ferrying around the people in the middle of the action, rather than being a part of it. He choked on his replies to my questions, furthering my belief.

  I changed tracks with him. “You mentioned something about a friend, a woman. Who were you talking about?”

  He licked his lips, glanced sideways at me. His eyes widened as he stared down the barrel. Poor guy couldn’t take his sights off it now. I flicked the tip toward the road in an attempt to redirect his gaze. It worked. He started to speak.

  “My wife,” he said slowly, taking a deep inhalation between words. “Her name is Christiana Zehnya. I thought she was to return with you, but…” He looked toward me, this time ignoring the firearm making eye contact.

  What was true and what wasn’t? Why had she fed me a story about a family who thought she was away on business?

  “Christiana was your wife?” I said.

  His head tilted to the left. “Not officially.” He slowed at the intersection and turned left, pushing us further away from the scene of the gunfight. “We’ve been together four years now, but she has a family. There’s no love there, not between her and her husband. She loves her little girls, that’s it. We thought that after this op, we’d be able to take them and flee.”

  The sting of her partial truths only lasted a few seconds. She had to protect those she loved, including Artur. I’d done the same, and had no doubt I would again.

  “Sorry to break it to you, Artie, but she’s dead.” I lowered the pistol away from him.

  Other than his eyes misting over, Artur showed no signs of distress over the news.

  “I know this is tough, but I need to ask you a few more questions.”

 

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