Second Solace

by Robert Clark

  ‘I'm not going to hurt you,’ I insisted. ‘Wait until I've passed, and get out of here. Get home, and lock the doors, okay?’

  Still no response, not that I'd expected one. I crossed the atrium and looked for the door to the stairs. A slim, shaking hand appeared over the counter and pointed to a door hidden in a recess to my right.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, heading for the door. A small metallic sign bolted to it read Emergency Only. Probably no greater time than this. I pushed it open and headed up.

  I took the stairs as fast as I could. Each passing floor had a number embedded into a sheet of metal beside the door. As I passed the first floor, I glanced up to see how far I had to go. The answer did little to lift my spirits. Not that I'd expected to see the top floor even remotely close. I'd seen the outside. I knew what I was getting into. This was a marathon, not a sprint.

  I kept going. Up and up. Higher and higher. The floor numbers moved up into the double digits. I looked up again. Still not even half way. Kept going. Up and up. Higher and higher. My heart beat harder and harder. I could taste blood in my mouth. My legs cried out for rest. I gave them only a minute. Didn't have time to spare. Up and up. The nausea grew stronger. I could taste bile on the back of my tongue. I had to stop again.

  Vomit came up with alarming ease. My innards convulsed. Pain consuming everything. I dropped to my knees and groaned. Couldn't take much more. I looked up. Still not close. I had to keep going. Somehow.

  I had to slow a little. Took the stairs one at a time, with little pauses on each landing. I glanced at the floor number. Twenty-seven. How many floors could there feasibly be? The Empire State Building was one hundred and three. The Chrysler was seventy-seven. If The Westmorland Plaza was even remotely close to that, I was nowhere.

  But that had to work in my favour as well, unless Gail had shot the place up before the EMP went off. If there were sixty floors - and I was hoping it was no more than that - they had to do this with weapons slung over their shoulders. Surely they were exhausted as well.

  While vomiting what little I had inside was far from ideal, I felt a little more vitality. The Wolf stayed at bay. What was his plan? If he took over again, I didn't think I had it in me to ascend the building a second time. Once was murder enough. Up, up, up. Higher, higher, higher. Mountain top no closer.

  I could hear someone above me. The slap of boots on concrete stairs echoed down to me. Probably meant I was just as loud. I wished I had a weapon. Anything. Noble had the blade and the pistol. She had the training. Maybe it was her up ahead?

  ‘Noble,’ I called out. My voice was hoarse.

  The noise died.

  ‘Stone? Is that you?’

  It was definitely Noble.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Where the hell did you go? One minute you were behind me, then... get up here.’

  I took the stairs two at a time, ignoring the near nuclear heat in my leg muscles. I turned the corner and there she was. Bedraggled and exhausted.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked again.

  ‘I fell behind,’ I lied. ‘I lost sight of you and thought you went one way, but it wasn't you. What floor are we on?’

  She checked.

  ‘Forty-ninth,’ she said. ‘I think there's sixty-six in total.’

  ‘You're shitting me?’

  ‘I wish. Come on.’

  She took off like a woman possessed, or at least, a woman who hadn't just ran up forty-nine floors. I groaned and followed at my own pace. Much, much slower than Noble. Seventeen floors to go.

  Each step felt like someone had swapped out my bones with razor-sharp, super-heated blades. At each landing, I had to stop and fight back the bile that forced its way into my throat. I couldn't take much more. Not after everything. My head was woozy. My mind was a mess. Each step drained away energy I didn't have left to spare. Death felt preferable to this. Another step, and another, and another. Up and up. Higher and higher. Ten floors left.

  Then it happened. I closed my eyes for a fraction of a second and felt it, felt him. Like a rug pulled out from under me, I drifted.

  Something solid hit me in the back of the head. Broke the illusion. I fell into the wall and looked around.

  It was Noble. She held the butt of her pistol up like a tomahawk. Eyes flaring.

  ‘What're you playing at?’ she snapped.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Don't give me that shit. Why were you going down?’

  I looked around, saw the floor number at the foot of the next staircase. Fifty-third floor.

  ‘It took me three floors to realise you'd pussied out,’ she shouted. ‘I just ran down six floors to catch you. What the shit is this?’

  ‘I... I...’ I stammered. What could I say? Sorry, it's the other half of my mind trying to fight with me.

  ‘Help me or take a bullet, Stone,’ she snapped. She turned around and headed up, ‘I won't ask nicely again.’

  ‘Leave me alone,’ I snarled to the Wolf.

  ‘You said it yourself. You'd rather die than continue. Why do either?’

  ‘You are not in control. I am.’

  ‘You've got a funny way of showing it, James.’

  I pushed past him and kept going. Noble was higher, but not so much so that she couldn't turn around and kick my arse if the Wolf took over again. I could feel him there, like a spiderweb entangling me. I fought past him. Kept going. Up and up. Higher and higher.

  Ten floors became five. Five floors became Three. Become two. Became one.

  There.

  The door to the penthouse suite was right in front of us. The metal plaque read Sixty-Six. PH. Noble stood there, waiting for me. Making sure I hadn't fled again. When she saw I hadn't, she held out the knife.

  ‘Not as good as a gun, but I'm keeping this one for myself,’ she said.

  ‘And who could blame you? Arming a wanted felon with a weapon.’

  ‘Everything's got to be a game with you, hasn't it?’ she snapped.

  ‘Only the things that are socially uncomfortable.’

  ‘Listen, I'm only saying this once. You play me, or don't follow the rules, or step a single goddamn toe out of line, I'll put one of these rounds into your gut. I'll let you bleed out nice and slow for being such an unbearable asshole. You got that?’

  ‘Loud and clear, Captain.’

  She scowled at me. Put her hand on the door handle. Turned it gently and pushed.

  Instead of a corridor with dozens of hotel room doors leading off from it, the penthouse had a cosy box room, with the elevator doors to my left, and the wide open double doors leading to the main event to my right. Four bodies lay face down on the plush beige carpet, their blood tainting the expensive material a dreadful brown. All were men. Two wore smart black tailored suits. Parker’s private entourage. The others were Second Solace soldiers. All four were still. Taking care not to cross in front of the open doors, Noble checked the bodies. They were unarmed, or more likely had become so posthumously.

  Noble shifted closer to the doors, her back pinned to the wall. She gripped the pistol with both hands. Even though she’d just run up nearly seventy storeys, her breathing was calm and controlled. Mine was dog shit. I was surprised the whole of Gail’s team hadn’t heard me panting like a fool. Maybe they had.

  Noble peered through the door, taking care not to expose more of herself than necessary. She did it with all the finesse of a professional Federal Agent. She managed not to get her head blown off, which was a start. She moved the gun back into her right hand and lifted up two fingers.

  Two hostiles.

  I nodded. The knife in my hand felt heavy. The handle was damp with my sweat. I inched closer to Noble and ducked down. Carefully, I climbed over the nearest corpse and peered through the door myself. If someone had spotted Noble the first time, they wouldn’t expect another head to pop up several feet lower than head height.

  There they were. Two heavily armed men standing just inside the front door. Getting around them woul
d be a problem. Neither man looked like they were aware two enemies were just a couple of feet behind them. I inched out a little further. Risked full on decapitation for the cause. The room was maybe twice the size as the one we were in, and acted like more of an interior corridor with two doors on either side, and one big one at the far end. Another twin door kicked open wide, beyond which I could see massive floor to ceiling windows overlooking a dark and disparaging Manhattan.

  Tweedledum and Tweedledee were the only two people I could see.

  We could do this.

  I got back up and whispered my Intel into Noble's ear. She nodded. Turned her head to whisper to me.

  ‘You get the left, I'll handle the right.’

  Which was saying something, because the guy on the right was much, much bigger than the guy on the left. She had no faith in me. Couldn't blame her. Her breath was warm on my ear. Focus up, James.

  We moved silently. Like two goddamn ninjas. I held the blade. Noble went in barehanded. The pistol would only attract more attention. Lit by only the light of the moon cascading through the large windows, we tread silent steps across a plush, fluffy carpet, ready to kill.

  When I was a foot away, I brought the knife up, threw my right hand across the guy's mouth, and drove the blade into his neck. He did not go gently into this good night. He twisted with incredible speed, spitting saliva and blood into the palm of my hand as he tried to protest. Little you can do to counter a knife to the throat though, and he went down fairly quick.

  I looked at Noble. She hadn't finished. not yet. Her arms were clamped tight around her man's neck, crushing with such force that he couldn't make a sound. I dropped the corpse and plunged the knife into the man's stomach. There wasn't much fight in him after that. We left them by Parker's downed guards, picked up their weapons, and prepared.

  I checked the weapon. An AR-15, the same gun Lee had used to explain suppressors. Firing this would be enough to give my ears a good kicking. But enemy bullets could do a lot worse, so I didn't complain. I checked the magazine. Six bullets shy of a full house. Good. Plenty of wiggle room there. Noble finished checking her weapon too.

  ‘Saving Parker is our number one priority,’ she whispered, ‘you got that?’

  ‘So long as Cece and Gail take one for the team, I’m game.’

  ‘No,’ she hissed, ‘Parker's life is more important. You put your ego aside and do this right, or not at all. I've got no problem cuffing you here and waiting till it's all over.’

  ‘How you going to cuff me without cuffs?’

  ‘Alright, I'll put a round in each kneecap. Does that suit sir?’

  ‘Fair play. What's the plan?’

  From deeper inside the penthouse, I heard the pop of a pistol. Both Noble and I jumped, spinning around with our newly acquired weapons raised. The bullet wasn't for us. And it was followed by voices.

  ‘For the last time. Tell us where he is.’ The voice was one I recognised. That of my old gal, Cece.

  A muffled voice spoke, low and masculine, but the words were too quiet to hear.

  ‘You liar!’ screamed Cece. ‘He’s here, I know he is. Tell me where he’s hiding or I’ll cut you slowly.’

  ‘Go to hell!’ shouted the other person. He had to be one of Parker’s entourage, but if he was here, where was Parker?

  I heard the thump of something hard hitting something fleshy, which was followed by a pained groan. Noble and I moved towards the open double doors. Moonlight cast into a spacious open plan living room. A sleek L-shaped leather sofa stood between us and a group of five people. Four standing around the fifth, who was kneeling before them like a sacrificial offering. Parker’s guard. He wasn’t looking great. The silver light of the moon turned the blood that lathered his face a disturbing black colour.

  Towering over him was the tall, spindling figure of Cece. Beside her stood my old friend, Shotgun Joe, his shotgun turned around to use the butt as a bludgeon. I couldn’t see Gail anywhere. Perhaps she was out hunting for Parker. Hopefully she’d fallen down the stairs and snapped her neck. The other two men had their backs to me. Both had assault rifles.

  Two versus four. Not exactly ideal, but we had the element of surprise.

  ‘I will not ask you again,’ snarled Cece. ‘If you do not tell me where Parker is, I will pull out your intestines and make you watch as I set them on fire.’

  ‘We don’t negotiate with terrorists,’ gargled the wounded man, although his tone wasn’t as steadfast as his choice of words.

  Noble moved into the room, low and quiet to not attract attention. With only the injured guard facing us, we were okay for now, but even if he spotted us and turned his head, it could be all Cece needed to figure out she wasn’t alone.

  While the room wasn’t exactly what you’d call small, it was sparsely populated. Besides the leather sofa, all the cover we had available came from a thin marble-topped counter running along the wall opposite the windows. Behind it, I could see a fridge filled with bottles of champagne and other drinks.

  Following Noble, I eased into the room and clung to the shadows, edging towards the bar. As I reached it, Shotgun Joe brought his weapon down on the guard’s head, and I heard an unpleasant crack as it made contact. The guard made a noise like a wounded animal on the brink of death. If we were going to help him, we didn’t have long.

  Noble patted me on the arm. I looked at her.

  ‘You go left. I’ll go right,’ she mouthed, emphasising the action with her hands.

  I nodded.

  She lifted up three fingers on her left hand while she gripped the AR-15 in her right. She bounced a fraction on her knees, readying for the attack. My heart beat faster and faster. My throat felt tight. I held the stolen weapon tight. Pressed the butt into my shoulder. Steadied myself.

  She counted down. Three. Two.

  One.

  I launched up behind the bar, weapon coming up with Cece in my mind’s eye. She was dying here. Today. By my hand. The second I was up and out of cover, I squeezed the trigger.

  Bullets exploded out of two weapons in unison. From my position, Cece was blocked by at least two other people. Shotgun Joe and one of the men I didn’t recognise. I saw the latter turn just in time to get cut down by my fury while the other took a round to the head from Noble. Shotgun Joe and Cece were saved by their sacrifices and dived away before I had a chance to fell either.

  Cece was lightning fast. No sooner had her fallen comrades taken one for the team did she have her weapon up and pointed at me. I ducked just before her rounds smashed into the painted wall behind me, and flecks of plaster rained down upon me.

  Noble had ducked too, unable to take down either of the two remaining combatants. Instead of launching upwards again, she went right, ducking out around the edge of the counter to return fire.

  I did the same on the other side, but as I peaked out of cover, bullets smashed into the wall inches from my head. I couldn’t see Cece, but I knew it was her.

  ‘Missed me, Cece?’ I called out. ‘Bet you didn’t think you’d see see me again, did you?’

  I heard an agitated snarl explode out of her as more bullets went flying. Get her angry. Get her making mistakes.

  ‘You know, I left you guys an email to say I was coming to kick your arse,’ I continued. ‘Didn't you get the memo? I meant to cc you in.’

  More bullets. More anger. Bullets smashed through the counter, any one of which could have caught me in the head.

  ‘You won’t win here, you might as well secede,’ I shouted. ‘Get it? Secede? I thought that one was pretty good.’

  I heard movement. No time to wait and see. If she was on the move, she was dead. I jumped out of cover, weapon raised.

  Shotgun Joe kicked me in the side. I dropped the rifle and hit the wall as a flash of something shotgun-shaped filled my vision. I pushed away just in time and rolled onto my back. The boom of the weapon felt like a stun grenade going off in my face. The noise was completely disorientating. I felt dozens of sm
all things hit my arms and neck and face, but nothing cut through. Somehow, I’d survived. But it wouldn’t be for long. Through the distortion, I saw Shotgun Joe appear again.

  Noble got him just in time. A well-aimed burst of gunfire sliced through his arms, and with a scream almost as loud and piercing as the shotgun blast, he dropped his weapon right onto me and fell back.

  I snatched up the weapon. Spun it around to face the wounded mess.

  And I shot the Joe right out of Shotgun Joe with his own namesake.

  Two halves of man thudded against the carpet. I called out to Cece.

  ‘Two on one now, Cece. That’s some pretty shit luck if you ask me.’

  ‘It’ll only take one bullet to end your pathetic existence, snake,’ she shouted back.

  ‘Did I ever mention I hate snakes?’

  She retaliated with more gunfire, but this time I was ready. With the shotgun up and ready, I swivelled around and pointed it at the spot I guessed she was hiding behind. I squeezed the trigger.

  The kickback of a shotgun when you’re already beat and on the brink of collapse is like stepping out in front of a speeding truck. The weapon thumped into my torso, and jettisoned out of my grasp, landing with a clatter against what remained of the bar. Unarmed and incapacitated, I lay there like an upturned turtle, completely exposed.

  But what the shotgun had done to me was only a fraction of its overall destruction. Behind the ugly leather sofa, I saw someone stumble. A flash of dark hair rose and fell as a single embittered groan escaped her lips.

  Cece tried to stand, but her wounds were too severe. She held her rifle limp in one hand, while the other padded against the multitude of fresh wounds on her chest, each oozing a considerable amount of blood. As I got to my feet, already I could see just how pale she had gone. All the fight was gone from her, except for her eyes. They met mine with a ferocity not yet seen in the contemptuous woman.

  ‘I did warn you I’d win,’ I said, ‘I told you, you’d see…see.’

  Her eyes narrowed.

  ‘Snake,’ she snarled, before her body gave out.

  Forty-One