Covert Christmas Twin

by Heather Woodhaven

  He shoved Kendra to the left, hoping she wouldn’t go down with him.

  “Joe!”

  He fell backward and thankfully only his heel had gone halfway through the floorboard. Kendra looked at him with wide eyes from her position on her hands and knees. Joe’s discarded phone’s light pointed at a ceiling panel, this one disturbingly concave.

  “Termites?” she whispered.

  “Best not to think about right now.” He grunted and scooted backward, taking one breath to close his eyes and lift up a silent prayer. Please guide our hands and feet safely out of here. He opened his eyes and nodded at Kendra. “Hallway. Now. You first.”

  She crawled, slowly, testing each movement tentatively before moving forward. He continued a similar journey with an odd crab-walk of sorts, moving backward, and came across her gun and his phone along the way.

  She crossed the threshold of the room. Still on her hands and knees, she made it to the hallway. “It feels firmer,” she whispered. “You’re almost there.”

  He made it over the threshold and felt the change instantly, as well. A deep weariness in his bones begged him to lay prostrate on the floor, but if he stopped now he felt certain he wouldn’t move the rest of the night. Or maybe ever, if the Pirate’s cohorts reached him first.

  Kendra stood and brushed little bits of debris from her pants.

  His throat ached, exhausted from the constant tightness of the day. What he wouldn’t give for an ice-cold bottle of water. He wanted to inhale deeply, but after what he’d witnessed, he pulled the collar of his shirt up over his mouth to act as a filter before he did. Kendra followed suit. “Maybe we should go back down.”

  “Anywhere but here.” Joe stood and handed over her gun as his chin gestured to go back to the stairway. “At least the stairway seems to have stone or concrete framing, but the walls don’t look great so I don’t know.”

  They stepped in the stairway and she faced him. “Before we go anywhere, what were you trying to get at earlier?”

  He hesitated. He didn’t have time to reflect on his theories before making a logical analysis. He wanted a thoughtful dialogue without leading her to the same conclusion in order to see what theories she came up with. After all, she had much more experience in these types of scenarios.

  “Joe?”

  It was clear she had no patience for such a dialogue. “I have this assumption in my head that shooters who use suppressors are typically—”

  “Sharpshooters?”

  He shrugged. “They at least know their weapons and can shoot well.”

  “You’re aren’t saying they missed on purpose, are you?”

  “I find it curious. At least in my case, they chased me but only actually shot at me twice—once at the tree leaves and once in the gravel. Both places won’t leave a mark or an obvious bullet hole.”

  She frowned. “Mine was a little closer than that but only two shots, as well.”

  “You said yourself that it all seemed choreographed. As if they already had this backup plan in the event you showed up.”

  “You think we were expected?”

  “I think you might’ve been. I think you were right that the planned explosion in the lab wasn’t meant to kill you. However, that was likely set up before anyone suspected you weren’t Audrey Clark.”

  “After my cover was blown, they had time to figure out how to kill me. Then why did they miss if we’re following that line of thinking?”

  “We’re dealing with the most cautious criminal Beverly has ever encountered. It’s like he’s playing four games of chess at once.” Except the Pirate wasn’t working alone. He had a roster of traitor agents or criminals at his beck and call. Not exactly a fair match of wits and certainly not playing by the rules.

  She blinked. “If he approaches it like chess he’s thinking about all the possible moves we might be making.”

  He exhaled. “Multiple steps ahead of us, even, and he’s planning his defense.”

  “The communication segment we took down had an intricate amount of layers and lieutenants before Lee and Audrey reached the CEO of the thing. If we’re really dealing with the person that created and organized the network, then we have every reason to believe he’s got his bases covered.” Her shoulders dropped. “But it also means we’re up against a genius, someone much smarter than us.”

  “Hey, speak for yourself.” He was kidding, trying to alleviate the hopelessness he currently felt, but Kendra didn’t crack a smile, either. “What we know for sure is only two people entered the lab and the person left keeping watch was—aside from the tactical flashlight—an unarmed woman.” He held up his hands. “I’m not trying to make any statement on gender, but I do wonder if the Pirate had been expecting both of us to be there, if he wouldn’t have planned the lab break-in a little differently.”

  She pursed her lips. “I don’t know for sure if the man in the office had a gun. I don’t think he did.”

  “So in the event you were a planned complication, it’s only logical to reason they had a plan to take you out.”

  “Except you seemed to think they didn’t want to shoot me.”

  “According to Beverly, the Pirate would want you taken care of in a way that could never remotely lead anywhere near him. If we met him this morning, he’d have good reason to worry. When I waved my gun like a madman back there, no one took a shot. It was as if they were more scared that I might shoot at them, which might create some evidence that could lead to them.”

  Her chin jerked to the left. “This building...”

  He nodded encouragingly. Now she was tracking with his thought process.

  She met his gaze, eyes wide. “It’s a pile of rubble ready to come crashing down, isn’t it? You think they herded me—us—here?”

  “I think it’s a possibility. Let’s check the rest of the building, quickly. If this was there backup plan for if you showed up, there might be something here that’s worse than taking our risks with the gunmen out there.”

  She nodded and blinked rapidly. “Let’s stay in the hallways, though. I don’t want a repeat of what just happened.”

  He almost reached out to grab her hand. He didn’t want a repeat, either, but he wasn’t sure he could forget what it felt like to hold her in his arms. He meant what he’d said about never letting her go, but something in his heart had changed, as if he wasn’t sure the sentiment ended at her safety. More than likely the exhaustion was playing on his vulnerable state.

  They rushed through the hallways as a team, shining lights into alternate rooms, searching for any hidden dangers and possible windows. The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors were clear of both. Without windows, the fortress of brick started to feel more like a prison. “That leaves the first floor,” he said. “We never really examined it.”

  She nodded and gulped. They exited the stairway with guns ready, in case any gunmen decided to join them. The rooms leading up to the lobby, where both the front and back doors were located, held nothing. The hallway past it was all that was left to be explored.

  At the last room something reflected off his phone beam. He peeked inside. There was a collection of odd items lining the inside wall: seemingly empty two-liter bottles that held brown stains, bottles of pills, coffee filters with shiny white-looking crystals on them, a few bent-up frying pans and a propane tank. He took a step back as Kendra looked over her shoulder.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said.

  “Is it a bomb?”

  She shook her head. “No. It looks to me like just enough paraphernalia to frame a federal agent on leave for trying to start a meth lab.”

  Framed? That didn’t exactly seem like the Pirate’s usual methods. It would risk Kendra finding an ally in another agent and tracking down the Pirate’s identity. No, he usually left the evidence to be found after they were dead. Something clicked
in his brain and he ran for the lobby. He heard her footsteps behind him. “The front door. When I locked it there was something taped next to it I didn’t take time to read.”

  He slid to a stop at the metal door and pointed his flashlight at the paper taped to the brick wall. His mouth went dry as he read the words. “It’s a signed permit for demolition to happen in just a few hours. There’s probably a copy posted on the outside of the building, too.”

  A strangled cry of frustration escaped Kendra’s lips. “That’s why the sloppy attempt at a frame. Under a pile of rubble, no one would question it. They’d see chemicals and two dead rogue agents and write it off as natural consequences for our drug-making ways.” She shook her head. “Joe, we need to take our chances and find a way out of here.” She held up her gun. “I think it’s the only way. Are you ready?”

  Joe closed his eyes for a second. Was it the only way? Before he could find a moment’s peace, she flipped the bolt and pushed.

  Her head snapped forward and back with the effort. “It won’t budge!” She turned and ran for the back door.

  “Kendra, wait up. Let’s plan.”

  Except she’d already flipped the bolt open to the back door with the same result. She spun around. “Something is keeping these doors shut from the outside.”

  Of course. They’d probably been boarded shut for public safety and only removed for a short period to lure them inside. The gunmen likely placed the locks back on while they were upstairs searching. “I think it’s time to call someone. Maybe your old partner? If you trust Lee, maybe he could call someone he trusts that’s close enough to help. It’s risky, but I can’t think of any other option at the moment.”

  “It’s exactly what Beverly told us not to do.”

  “I think she also didn’t want us to die.”

  Kendra placed her hands on her hips and paced back and forth. “Okay. Fine. Yes, let’s do it.”

  Joe lifted his phone screen and clicked the phone option, but he noticed the line through the tower symbol. Dread seeped into his bones. “Kendra, is your phone working?”

  Her eyebrows jumped. “Are you kidding me?” She pulled out her phone and fisted it. “No signal. We really are trapped, aren’t we?”

  * * *

  Kendra wanted out. It seemed like the walls were closing in the longer they were there. The dust was thick enough to write a message, but leaving behind a list of suspects with their dying breath wouldn’t do any good if the building was scheduled to crash down around them.

  She needed to take a deep breath without feeling like she’d choke. She wanted to see more than what the light from a pitiful phone beam could provide. “The roof.”

  He pointed the beam down the hall. “Good idea.”

  Fresh air and the possibility of a phone signal pushed her into a run for the stairway. Besides, it could provide the vantage point they so desperately needed. Her pace slowed the higher they climbed. When the stairs ended at the top, she turned the doorknob. Locked. The discouragement was almost enough to make her cry, the most unprofessional outpouring of emotion she could exhibit. She needed to get a grip. She blew out a breath.

  “I’m not trained in this, but may I try?” Joe said. She frowned and stepped aside. He took out one of the few remaining prepaid credit cards and slid it through the space of the door and swiped downward.

  Nothing happened.

  He pressed his left shoulder into the door, turned the knob with his left hand and tried again with his right. A small click.

  “You just earned a lock-picking certificate in my book.”

  He smiled as he stepped back and opened the door. Clean air—well, as clean as Pasadena could get—drifted down a small, open stairway that led to a flat roof. Kendra sucked in a deep breath in relief and ran toward the stars above. She glanced at her phone before she stepped on the sticky tar. “I still don’t have a signal. How can that be?”

  Joe looked solemn, despite the success of reaching the roof. “If I were the Pirate planning our demise, I’d utilize a signal jammer so others didn’t ruin my plans.” He lifted his phone. “No signal here, either. I don’t think this is a coincidence. We’re not getting a call out.”

  Of course there would be a signal jammer. The Pirate had been one step ahead of her the entire time, just like the Masked Network had been for the past few years before Audrey and Lee finally had success. She hunched her shoulders and stayed low as she made her way to the edge. She heard the telltale whoosh of a suppressed bullet hitting a century-old palm tree on the west side of the building. She dropped down. “They’re letting us know they’re still watching us.”

  Joe nodded. He peeked over the opposite side of the building, then quickly sank down to sit. “I don’t think they saw me, but there’s someone stationed at the back exit of the alley. They’ve covered all possible escape routes.” He turned off his phone. “You should turn off your phone and save the battery. We can try again when morning gets closer.”

  She powered down the phone and put it in her pocket. “Morning?” She crossed over and sank down beside him, leaning her head against the half-brick wall. “Are you that ready to give up?”

  “Kendra, I’m not used to this. I’ve gone forty-eight hours without sleep and I literally cannot function one second longer. I’m not ready to give up, but I think if I had just fifteen minutes to close my eyes, I’d be a lot more use.”

  “You also had quite a bump to the head,” she admitted. “Fine. Take a little shut-eye, but I’m not letting you sleep the night away.” She shivered, whether from the cold or the frustration she wasn’t sure. Joe noticed. He reached his arm around her shoulder, but she could tell he was fighting the chill, as well.

  “I’m sorry I don’t have a coat to offer you,” he said. “But I’d rather be up here in the fresh air than risk breathing in asbestos or who knows what else down there. I think we should try to get as comfortable and warm as we can, given the situation. Besides, I find when you slow down, sometimes the answer comes to you.”

  She agreed, since she didn’t have a better idea. Kendra leaned into him, eager for warmth...and comfort, but she wasn’t ready to admit the latter. He wrapped both his arms around her and leaned the back of his head against the brick wall.

  Her eyes adjusted to the light that the stars and sliver of moon provided. Sure would’ve been nice if there’d been a rope or something useful left on the roof. Not so much as a TV antenna or satellite had been left behind. “If they took everything to sell, why did they leave those sheet metal doors?”

  “They can retrieve those after demolition,” he said sleepily, his eyes still closed. “It’s for safety to keep people out—ironically.”

  She stared at his peaceful face as frustration built. “I’m not sure I can rest for a second without knowing what our plan is going to be.”

  He breathed in deeply. “I know. I’m praying.”

  Praying for a plan or praying that she could rest without knowing what the plan was? She didn’t ask, but she really wanted it to be the first option. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. When life got hard, people often would say they were praying about something, but Joe was one of the few people she believed when he said it. Whereas when she was growing up, she’d see her mom and friends gather at different church events and many of the ladies would inevitably ask for prayer about something. Her mom would nod and never mention it again.

  As an adult now, she knew logically that she couldn’t see the state of her mother’s heart, but she also couldn’t ever remember her mother ever praying with her, either. And on the odd occasion one of Kendra’s church acquaintances in school had ever asked for prayer, Kendra would agree but rarely remembered to do so except the odd quick lifted-up thought at the time of the request. Did that even count? Maybe. But the result was that she didn’t ever share her own prayer requests with anyone because she doubted they’d actually
do it. And if they weren’t going to do it, then wasn’t she just whining about her troubles? Or was that just an excuse her pesky pride relied on?

  Ever since she’d found out about Audrey, she’d become more closed off from others than ever. It probably was odd that she hadn’t told her parents yet that she’d found a twin, wasn’t it? They didn’t even know she’d been shot or had surgery or taken a leave of absence. She’d chalked it up to the covert operative lifestyle, but it rang hollow now. “Is pride a result of jealousy or constant competition?” The question tumbled out of her mouth, but she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer. “Is it hereditary?”

  Joe breathed in slowly. He opened his eyes and turned to her. “I suppose it could be all those things to some extent.”

  The warmth his arms brought seemed to open the reins around her heart. “I’ve always been in competition with someone,” she admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m hardwired for it. My parents—my adoptive parents—never gave me any reason to worry about their love. I mean, I was their only daughter. They made a point of always telling me that they chose me.” Her eyes stung but she blinked back the pain, embracing it even. “I liked hearing it, but apparently it didn’t matter. I still had to prove to everyone—to myself maybe—that I deserved a place in the family. My dad was a policeman. My mom was a former policewoman. One by one, my brothers joined the force, and each time, my parents told me that it was their choice and they held no expectations. So what did I do? I became a federal agent. You know why?” She looked over to find Joe’s eyes wide, searching her face.

  “Why?”

  A hollow laugh escaped. “Because I wanted to serve in law enforcement, too, but I wanted to one-up my brothers. I thought it was the equivalent of policing on a more elite, national level.” The sting in her eyes increased. “So ridiculous, right?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It makes sense to me.” He shifted and rested his chin lightly on top of her head.

  It struck her how well she fit in his arms, almost as if she was meant to rest there. Her heart quickened at the thought and she shoved it as far away as possible. “I think I’ve probably inherited a lot from my parents, whether I like it or not. Look at Audrey. She went into academia and became a professor, just like Beverly. I became a covert agent just like my—my father.”