by James Hunt
“So,” Cutters said, his arrogance so thick it might as well have been another suit of armor, and it made Jim want to grip the man by the throat in that very moment. “You think some of my security team might be working for the Greeks?”
“I don’t know,” Jim said. “But you can never be too careful.”
“No,” Cutters said, reaching into his jacket and removing a pistol which he aimed at Jim. “You really can’t.”
“I thought we were going to talk,” Jim said.
“So talk,” Cutters said. “Before the rest of my dinner gets cold.”
Jim slowly walked to the table and sat in the chair closest to Cutters. He could see the knife Cutters used for the prime rib in the corner of his vision. But he didn’t make a move for it immediately.
“There are two individuals I need access to,” Jim said, recalling the actual information he had about the Greeks. “All I have are aliases, but I’m assuming that’s something you can get for me.”
“And how would I do that?” Cutters asked. “You just said that the Greeks are impeccable at disguising themselves.”
“The FBI has all the information on them, but they won’t share any of it with me,” Jim answered.
All the while Jim was talking, he made sure to keep that knife in his peripheral vision. It was difficult to concentrate on Cutters with the knife so close, but he was holding it together so far.
“You must have some contacts within that organization,” Jim said. “I’d bet my life on it.”
Cutters smiled and adjusted his grip on the pistol. “You did bet your life on it, Detective.” He tilted his head to the side. “You really do have trouble letting things go, don’t you?”
Cutters finally set the pistol down onto the table but kept it nearby and easily accessible. Jim was even more aware now of the knife on the table. The movement would need to be quick, making sure to reach for the knife and Cutters at the same time, all the while making sure Cutters didn’t activate the device on his wrist. If Jim could get the knife to Cutters’ throat, that should be enough to keep the man quiet and still.
“I can get you the names,” Cutters said. “I’ll have them to you after the drop tonight.”
Jim realized that this was the end of their conversation and if he was going to make a move, then now was the time. Before he second-guessed himself, Jim lunged for the knife and simultaneously grabbed hold of Cutters’ wrist, pinning his hand down so he couldn’t reach for the distress signal on his watch. And then Jim placed the knife against Cutters’ throat. The complicated movement happened in less than a second, and the quickness surprised both men.
“What are you doing?” Cutters growled.
“I know you’re holding people here,” Jim said. “Tell me where you’re keeping them.”
Cutters studied Jim with a clinical eye. The kind of expression that an intelligent child might give a teacher that was dumber than he was.
Jim applied pressure against Cutters’ throat, and Cutters stiffened. He spoke more aggressively. “Where are you keeping them?”
“You do realize where you are, don’t you?” Cutters asked. “Even if I tell you where they are, there’s no way that you’re getting out of here alive. You don’t know how many men I have stationed around the house. You don’t understand the precautions I’ve taken in order to make sure something like this would never happen. What could you possibly do to escape this place?”
Jim realized that the odds were stacked against them, but if there were even the slightest chance that he could make things right, then he was going to take it.
“You let me worry about that,” Jim said. “Now, where are they?”
23
The moment the doors closed behind Kerry and she was stuck with the security guard, she knew they were in the thick of it now. But she knew the plan remained the same. She still had to call the authorities, and Jim still had to find the people Cutters imprisoned here. They had to trust each other to get the job done.
Kerry studied the behemoth of a man standing in front of her. He was well over six feet and weighed close to three hundred pounds. While Kerry spent plenty of time at the gym staying in good shape, when it came to a straight-up fight, she wouldn’t stand a chance. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t subdue the security guard. She might not have been armed or had any type of handcuffs, but she knew the guard had both. She just had to be quick enough to grab it.
“So, how long have you been working for Cutters?” Kerry asked.
It wasn’t the most creative question, but she knew she needed to distract the security guard somehow. The best way she knew how to do that was to get him talking. But like the guards outside of Buckingham Palace, this man seemed to have taken a vow of silence.
“Is there a bathroom around here?” Kerry asked.
Still, the man said nothing, keeping his attention on some empty space between Kerry and the closed door to the dining room. She noticed that he wore an earpiece and knew that it was probably connected to the other security guards here. Even though she might only be alone with one, it wouldn’t take much time for everybody in the house to know what was going on.
Kerry suddenly wished that she had been the one to stay in the dining room with Cutters. That seemed like a far easier task than what she currently faced. She gave the big man a once over, looking for any chinks in his armor, but the only thing she could come up with was perhaps he was a bit slow. With all of that weight, which wasn’t all muscle though it was difficult to tell because of the suit, it was more than likely he wouldn’t be as fast as Kerry. But she had seen enough big men to know that looks could be deceiving.
“Come on, man,” Kerry said. She danced around as if she really had to use the bathroom, and she was barely holding it in. “If you don’t show me where it is, I’ll go right here.”
Kerry could tell that the security guard was irritated, but even though he retained his silence, he grunted something that Kerry assumed was a “follow me,” and he led her away from the kitchen into a hallway nearby. He stood next to a closed door and gestured toward it with his head.
“Thank you,” Kerry said.
Once Kerry was in the bathroom, she immediately looked for any type of weapon to use against the big man. Really anything would do. A nail file, tweezers, heavy bar of soap, anything.
But as Kerry carefully sorted through the drawers and cabinets, she found nothing useful. She went through the motions of flushing the toilet and turning on the sink, but she was running out of time. If she lingered too long, then the security guard would become suspicious.
But Kerry also knew that she couldn’t leave the bathroom without having some type of weapon. And just as the security guard knocked on the door and instructed her to hurry it up, Kerry found an old plastic razor at the back of a drawer.
It was rusty and slightly dull, but a quick strike to the face might be enough of a distraction for Kerry to gain the upper hand, if only for a moment. It would be all about her speed and capitalizing on the element of surprise.
Kerry positioned the blade beneath her hand, concealing it as best she could. She unlocked the door and then closed her eyes and took a breath. She knew that whatever happened next would have a domino effect on whether or not they would succeed or fail. If she couldn’t get a call out to the lieutenant, then all this would’ve been for nothing.
Kerry opened the door and saw the security guard staring down at her. He looked annoyed, but from what she could tell, he didn’t suspect anything sinister. The man waited until Kerry was in front of him before he moved and as he followed her down the hallway.
Kerry adjusted the plastic, disposable razor in her hand and then spun around, reaching up toward the man’s face and slashed against his cheek with the rusted razor as hard as she could.
The rest happened quickly. Kerry used the few seconds of stunned reaction from the security guard to reach into his jacket and remove the pistol from his holster. Once she had control of the weapon,
she pistol-whipped the security guard on the other side of his face, and he stumbled backward.
Kerry knew the commotion would draw some attention, so she needed to restrain the man as quickly as possible. Gun in hand, she aimed at the big man, who was still disoriented from the two quick blows to his face.
He kept one hand covered over the cut on his cheek from the rusted blade, blood dripping down onto his black suit. But as the shock wore off, even with the gun to his face, Kerry could see that he was still considering charging. And due to his size and the fact that he was most likely wearing some type of Kevlar, Kerry wasn’t sure if a bullet would stop him even if she squeezed the trigger. But either way, she knew the moment she fired, the entire house would be in lockdown. And she wasn’t sure if Jim was ready for something like that yet.
“Just stay calm,” Kerry said. But she knew it was like trying to reason with a bull who saw red.
When the man made his first aggressive move forward, Kerry didn’t hesitate when she pulled the trigger. She aimed for the man’s left arm and connected with her target. The man flung backward but quickly regained his footing. He put pressure on the wound and leaned up against the wall.
Now that Kerry had fired the weapon, the entire house would be up in arms, and she couldn’t sit around and wait for what was going to happen. She needed to move, and she needed to do it now.
Kerry sprinted away from the security guard, weaving all around the house, and she heard the security guard give the update on her location. The last thing she heard before she was out of earshot was she was heading toward the front entrance.
Unsure of her exact location, Kerry immediately veered to the right to throw the security team off the trail. All the while, she kept her eyes peeled for any type of landline. She tried looking for one when they first entered, but she hadn’t seen it. And if Cutters didn’t own a landline, which many people didn’t, they were dead in the water.
The sounds of the security guards were growing more coordinated, and Kerry could hear them getting closer. She moved tactfully through the home, making sure she cleared her corners at every turn, but since she had never been in the house before, it was impossible to know what came next.
Kerry skidded to a stop when she saw one of the security guards in the intersection of two hallways. The moment he saw her, he raised his weapon to fire, but Kerry ducked into one of the nearest rooms, slamming the door shut as the gunshots thundered in the hallway.
Kerry struggled to keep her hands still as she fumbled for the lock on the door and managed to secure it just in time for the big security guard on the other side to slam his shoulder into it. The door buckled from the man’s collision, but it held.
Kerry examined her surroundings and saw that she was in the office. And she nearly dropped the pistol when she looked over and saw the large oak desk with a few office supplies sitting on it, a computer monitor, a laptop, keyboard, and mouse. And right on the corner of the desk was a phone.
A gunshot fired into the door, and Kerry snapped into action. She pulled one of the couches in the room to barricade the door and then piled whatever else she could find inside: a filing cabinet, a bookshelf, a chair, anything to slow the pace of the security guards on the other side.
Kerry quickly reached for the phone. She had already dialed 9-1-1, but there was no ringing. It wasn’t until she hung up and tried again that she realized there was no dial tone, and then the room went dark.
The power and phone lines had been disabled.
24
Jim was still in the dining room with Cutters when he heard the gunshots, and then two security guards burst through the doors.
Jim maneuvered Cutters in front of him, using the man like a human shield. He kept the blade snug against Cutter’s neck and aimed the pistol he stole from Cutters at the two security guards.
“Let him go!” the security guard shouted.
Jim slowly retreated to the other end of the room and didn’t stop until he bumped into the wall and then moved to his left until he felt the closed door.
The security guards continued their march forward, pistols aimed and their fingers on the trigger. Even though Cutters was a small man, Jim managed to keep most of his body covered. Even a master marksman would have a hard time shooting Jim.
“It’s no use, Jim,” Cutters said. “There’s no way out of this except with you and your partner dead. You’re only prolonging the inevitable.”
Jim pushed his elbow down over the door handle and felt the door open behind him. He quickly glanced behind to make sure the path was clear and then faced the security guard once more. “You keep telling yourself that.”
The power cut out, and the room darkened. It provided enough of a distraction for Jim to dart down the hallway. He kicked the door shut behind him, wanting to make it as difficult for the security guards as possible, and then pulled Cutters down the windowless hallway.
Jim bumped into tables and walls in the darkness, but he recovered quickly enough to fire warning shots at the guards who busted down the door after him. The long, narrow hallway provided limited cover, so the guards remained in the dining room.
Having bought himself some time, Jim quickly scanned his surroundings for an exit. He had to retreat a few more steps before he found a door that was unlocked, and he yanked Cutters inside along with him.
Jim shut the door and then locked it. He threw Cutters to the floor and then saw he had entered a library. He quickly pulled the sitting chairs and table to barricade the door and then toppled one of the bookcases as well.
Cutters slowly got up from the floor and gently touched the exposed flesh of his neck where Jim had placed the knife. “You must have a death wish.”
Jim wasn’t sure how Kerry was faring with her part of the mission, but he knew he had to trust that she would get it done. Because even after Jim found the hostages, it was going to take a miracle for him to make it out of this with his life.
“What was the plan?” Cutters asked. “Did you even have one?”
Jim aimed the pistol at Cutters, and he flinched. “If you think I’m going to die, what’s the harm in telling me where you keep everyone?”
Cutters remained silent.
Jim stepped close enough to press the pistol against Cutters’ forehead. “Where are they?”
Cutters winced. “This isn’t the only level of the house.”
Jim frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Cutters glanced at the floor, and suddenly Jim understood. They were underground.
“Where can I access it?” Jim asked.
Cutters slowly stood and walked over to one of the bookcases. “I’ve spent millions of dollars on this home. Making it exactly how I wanted. There is an escape route in each room that only I know how to activate.” He paused when he neared one of the books and removed it from the shelf.
Jim half expected the library shelves to swing open and reveal a secret door, but instead, when Cutters opened the book, he removed a small pistol, and he fired at Jim.
The bullet missed wide, hitting the door instead of Jim. Jim rushed forward to disarm Cutters, but the motion was futile since the pistol only had one shot. Jim knocked the gun out of Cutters’ hand, and when the man started to laugh, Jim punched him in the face.
It wasn’t a hard hit, but Cutters was so small and Jim was so much bigger that it still knocked the man on his ass.
Blood poured out of Cutters’ nose, and he stared up a Jim, looking like a madman. “There is no way out of this. I told you that the moment you put the knife to my throat. I figured you were up to something. I just didn’t know what it was.”
The security team outside of the door was growing more violent in their efforts to remove the blockade Jim had set up. He was running out of time.
“This doesn’t mean anything to you,” Jim said. “If you are so confident that I’m going to lose, then tell me how I get below ground.” He pressed the pistol against Cutters’ forehead once more.
r /> “You keep putting that pistol against my head like you’re going to squeeze the trigger,” Cutters said. “There are certain rules you live by. I know that about you, Jim. You’re not a killer, not when there’s another option.”
“Yeah, well, I’m running low on options here,” Jim said, and he placed his finger on the trigger. “Last chance.”
It could’ve been the fact that Cutters believed Jim would actually pull the trigger or Cutters’ own arrogance that he could still get out of this unscathed, but in the end, Jim got what he wanted.
“Bookshelf in the corner,” Cutters said. “Bottom shelf, last book on the left.”
The door to the library buckled, and the security team on the other side had managed to open up some space. They shouted inside, “Sir? Are you okay?”
“He’s heading for the underground!” Cutters shouted back. “Get him now!”
Jim rushed to the book and yanked it off the shelf, and this time the bookcase did open up and revealed an elevator. He stepped inside and hit the only button down, the door shut, and he began his descent just as the security burst into the library.
The fluorescent light from the elevator gave off an eerie glow, and Jim couldn’t help but associate that strange illumination as an outward expression of how he felt in that moment. It was an out-of-body experience. But he needed to keep his composure for a little while longer. Even if that meant doing things he had sworn he never would.
It was a short ride down the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jim had his pistol at the ready, along with the blade still in his hand. The emergency lights were still on even downstairs, and Jim saw a hallway that looked more like something out of a hospital floor than some underground basement.
Doors lined either side of the hallway, all of them shut. Jim counted at least a dozen, but he couldn’t imagine all of them were filled. Though he had been wrong about a lot of things today.