Play Nice

by Gemma Halliday

  “There are at least two in front, one down in back.” His voice was deep, low, and direct, demanding attention. “I’ll provide cover. You grab the girl and go out the back.”

  Anna felt her breath hitch. He would provide cover?

  Who was this guy?

  Anna nodded in agreement. What choice did she have? Instantly she felt the pressure on her back let up as he slid away from her. Slowly. As if the lack of trust was mutual. He paused to pick up her gun from the floor, slipping it into the waistband of his own pants.

  Anna didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Shelli by the arm, hauling her out from under the desk. Her heart pounded, her legs antsy, ready to spring into action.

  “Go,” the man commanded. “Now!”

  He stood, shooting toward the front of the shelter. Anna didn’t waste time, shoving Shelli ahead of her and running through the backdoor, expecting the fiery pain of a gunshot wound to erupt along her back at any second.

  Deafening shots ripped through the room, plaster flying off the walls on either side of them as the gunmen returned fire. Their would-be savior continued shooting, sending round after round into the front window until she heard the sickening click of his gun signaling he was out of ammo.

  Then he was behind her, urging her forward, past the kennels of dogs barking, cats howling, all whipped into a frenzy over the commotion.

  “Go!” he shouted again, punctuated by a swift shove to the small of her back. She stumbled but kept moving forward, all the while listening to Shelli’s steady chorus of “Ohshitohshitohshit,” as she clutched the terrier to her chest like a security blanket.

  They hit the backdoor, and Anna plowed straight into Shelli’s back as she stopped short and let out a strangled cry.

  A man in black sweats and a wool cap lay on the pavement just outside the door. A red bullet hole dotted his forehead, eyes staring toward the sky, open and unseeing.

  Anna took one look and felt her insides go numb. A hollow yet jarringly familiar feeling. Years faded before her vision, and she was transported back in time. How many times had she seen this same scene?

  “Move. Now!” The man shoved her forward again.

  Adrenaline coursed through her limbs, the panic she’d felt moments earlier converted into trained reflexes. She grabbed Shelli, who was still making gurgling sounds in the back of her throat, and pushed her down the narrow back alley running the length of the building.

  Reluctantly, Shelli complied, the two of them covering the length of the block, stumbling over chunks of uneven asphalt, navigating around the teeming dumpsters. Anna felt the man close behind, heard his feet pounding as the gunfire across the street ceased. They knew she wasn’t in the building anymore. They’d be on the move, one step behind her.

  The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, moving toward them as the alleyway dead-ended against a metal fence at the back of an Indian restaurant. Smells of warm naan bread and curry hit her nostrils as the man shoved both women up against the fence, behind a blue dumpster. He moved in front of them, flattening himself along the grimy metal side as his eyes scanned for an exit.

  It was the first time Anna had gotten a chance to really look at him. A broad, sturdy build filled out his black cargo pants and matching T-shirt. His eyes were still as dark as they had been last night, though the stubble along his jaw had grown. The man from the Laundromat. Dade.

  She sucked in her cheeks, her stomach knotting, churning over the possibilities.

  Who was this guy?

  He turned to Shelli, his voice low and commanding. “See the backdoor of that restaurant?”

  She nodded, her teeth chattering as she clutched the shaking dog to her.

  “I want you to run to it as fast as you can, then wait inside for the police to come. Got it?”

  Shelli shot a wary look at Anna before nodding again, this time more slowly.

  Anna took a step forward.

  “No. Not you.” Dade turned to her, meeting her gaze. “Just her.”

  Shelli opened her mouth to protest, but didn’t get the chance as he shoved her forward hard enough to make her stumble. She recovered quickly, doing as she was told, racing for the backdoor.

  Anna prayed it wasn’t locked, prayed Shelli made it, prayed they wouldn’t come looking for the redhead as long as she separated from Anna.

  She could hear Shelli’s breath echoing off the sides of the alley as she hit the door, tugging at the metal handle. It opened easily, and Anna let out a long sigh as the redhead slipped inside.

  As soon as the door closed gunfire erupted down the block.

  Anna felt Dade’s body stiffen beside her, his hand clamping around her arm, shoving her back into the fence until the metal diamonds bit into her skin.

  “Go. Over the fence,” he whispered.

  She did, quickly hitching one foot over the other as she scaled the wall, dropping down the other side just a step before Dade launched himself over in one swift motion.

  Again, he wrapped his fingers around her upper arm, propelling her north, away from the shelter, down a side street lined with fast food and mom-and-pop bodegas. He slowed to a quick jog, staying close to the cars parked on the street for cover. Every muscle in Anna’s body strained for the shout of gunfire behind them.

  Halfway down the block, he stopped, pulled out a pair of keys and remotely unlocked a black SUV. He opened the driver’s side door, shoving her in ahead of him, over the console. He slid behind the wheel, pulled away from the curb, his tires screeching as he made an illegal U-turn, rushing against traffic in the opposite direction. Horns blared and middle fingers raised as they careened down the street.

  They made it only four car lengths before shots ripped into the right side of the car. Anna ducked, covering her head. Dade swerved left, cutting across two lanes to make a sharp turn the wrong way onto a one-way street, jumping over the curb, narrowly avoiding a VW head on. He made another left at the end of the block, then a sharp right, threatening to tip the SUV as it bounded onto Sunset.

  Another three blocks and two turns later, Anna finally remembered to breathe. The gunfire had ceased, the unseen assailants silent. Anna scanned the rearview mirror for any sign they were being followed.

  Behind them sat a pickup with a landscaping advertisement painted on the side. Beside him, a minivan. To their right, a yellow sports car driven by a guy chatting into a Bluetooth. No bullets, no nefarious-looking vehicles. Just the usual rush of San Francisco traffic.

  Anna turned her attention to Dade in the seat beside her. His jaw was clenched, his features seemingly set in stone. Eyes straight ahead, hands gripped tightly against the steering wheel, every muscle in his body flexed, poised for action. A far cry from the warm, easy persona he’d displayed last night.

  He knew how to handle a gun. Gave orders like he expected to be obeyed. He’d clearly been trained for action. Military? CIA? He didn’t have the least hint of an accent; she pegged him as American. But that was all she could know for sure.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his eyes never left the windshield.

  “I told you. Nick Dade.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  His jaw flinched, and he made a screaming right turn. Anna sucked in a breath, fearing the vehicle would rise on two tires.

  “You’re not some tourist visiting a friend.”

  “No.”

  “It wasn’t a chance encounter last night in the Laundromat.”

  “No.”

  “What were you doing at the shelter?”

  Silence. His jaw flinched again, his eyes never leaving the road ahead of him.

  “You killed that man behind the shelter, didn’t you?”

  Again he was slow to respond. When he did, it was just the slightest nod of his head.

  While she’d already known the answer, the fact that he didn’t even try to deny murdering a man left a f
amiliar chill in her bones.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

  He turned to look at her for the first time, his eyes so dark they were black pools, hooded, unreadable.

  A slow shake of his head was his only answer.

  Anna swallowed, white knuckling the armrest as he took another turn.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Your apartment.”

  Her head whipped around. “My apartment? Why?”

  “You’ve been made. They’re going to expect you to leave town. But if they’ve done their homework, they know you won’t leave without your dog.”

  Lenny!

  Anna’s heart leapt into her throat and tears immediately sprang behind her eyes. Shit! She’d forgotten all about him. He was just a dumb animal. The thought of anything happening to him …

  She sniffed loudly, pushing back the tears, grasping again for the numb feeling that had been her savior, her safety, for so long.

  She took a long breath. Then another.

  “They’ll be waiting for you at your place,” Dade continued. “That’s where we’ll catch up to them. I want to know who these fuckers are.”

  As much as her instincts told her to run, run like hell, she knew he was right. She wanted a face-to-face with them, too, though for entirely different reasons. She already knew who they were. She wanted to know how they’d found her. How they’d penetrated the illusion of safety she’d worked so hard to build around herself. She’d been careful. But somehow, somewhere, she’d slipped up. She needed to know where.

  Because if she got out of this alive, she vowed she’d never slip up again.

  “You’re out of bullets,” she said, amazed at the false calm in her voice.

  “Glove box.”

  She pulled the compartment open, lifting a box of ammunition onto her lap. She reached across the console, grabbing for the empty gun still shoved, along with hers, in his waistband.

  Immediately his hand covered her skin, fingers closing around her hand like a vice grip.

  She winced. “I’m loading your weapon for you.”

  He looked down at her hand, then up at her eyes. His still dead black.

  He paused a moment, then nodded, let go of her hand.

  Gingerly she took his weapon, loading the ammunition into the magazine, then set it down on the console between them. She would have given anything to be able to reload her own gun, but at the moment that wasn’t an option.

  One bullet.

  She glanced across the interior of the SUV at him again. If it came down to it, that would be all she needed.

  She leaned against the headrest, her mind turning over a million different thoughts, questions, scenarios. Dade had been watching her, that much was apparent. It was unnerving, jarring, knowing that someone had been peeking into her life uninvited. How much did he know about her? How long had he been watching? Was her apartment bugged? The shelter?

  And, maybe most importantly, why?

  She took a deep breath, forcing questions she couldn’t answer now out of her head as they approached her street. Questions could wait. What she needed now was focus. Keen focus on the threat at hand.

  They’ve found you.

  No matter how many deep breaths she took, that thought had her biting back desperation and panic, nausea growing in her belly, tears she wanted desperately to shed threatening the back of her eyes. Deep down, she’d always known this day would come. But somehow she’d tricked herself into hoping that knowledge was wrong. That she really could live a normal life, that Anna Smith was her future and that her past didn’t matter, didn’t exist, a distant memory she never needed to call up again. Now that little kernel of hope had been completely crushed. The normalcy she’d pretended to live for the last fifteen years shattered in an instant. It was clear now that her life in San Francisco had all been an illusion, a failed round in a game she couldn’t hope to win. Today had proven beyond a doubt that as hard as she tried, there was no denying who she really was.

  She’d never be able to outrun Anya.

  CHAPTER 4

  Dade turned the corner, and Anna leaned forward in anticipation as her apartment came into view. In the early morning sunlight the tall, yellow building trimmed in white wooden latticework looked bright and fresh, the last of the rain clinging to the paneling and Victorian moldings along the roofline. It had once supported a large, wraparound porch, long ago demolished to make way for a more modern lobby when it had been converted to apartments. Now the face sat back mere feet from the street, nondescript squares of lawn separating it from the sidewalk. Cars lined both sides of the street, making it impossible for Anna to check the interiors of each for signs of life as she would have liked.

  For signs of her attackers laying in wait.

  Her hands twitched in her lap, feeling oddly empty without a weapon.

  Dade double-parked the SUV beside a green Chevy dotted in rust spots and motioned Anna out of the car. She complied, head down, using the Chevy as cover. He crouched low, moving with catlike stealth as he came around the car, keeping his back close to the SUV. He held his gun in both hands, tight to his body, though she could see his index finger rested loosely on the trigger. His eyes scanned the street. He quickly assessed the terrain before giving the slightest nod of his head in her direction, motioning for her to follow.

  She did. One eye on the front door of her building, one on Dade’s back, silently calculating just how fast she’d have to be to outrun him.

  He moved quickly, fluidly, across the grass, up the front steps, pausing only briefly at the wood and glass door, before motioning her forward.

  “Key?” he asked.

  Anna shook her head. “It was in my purse.”

  Dade didn’t hesitate, ramming the butt of his gun down hard on the door handle, splintering the old wood surrounding it. He shoved a shoulder into the door, and it easily pushed open, allowing him inside.

  She followed. But she took just one step before he blocked her path with a sturdy arm, flattening her against the front wall as he scanned the interior. She held her breath, felt her fingertips tingling with that familiar surge of what was to come.

  Satisfied, he turned to her, nodded toward the stairway, moved forward, gun trained above his head as he ascended. She was a quick step behind him, wishing like hell she had a weapon. It was like walking into the lion’s cage armed only with a juicy flank steak. She could draw them to her, but once they got there she had no recourse but to trust Dade’s aim.

  Trust. The word instantly made her nervous.

  They reached the second floor landing, opening up to three apartments, all three doors shut. The smell of frying bacon wafted under the door of the first, the third vibrating with the loud bass rhythms of her downstairs neighbor’s stereo. Dade gave them only a quick glance before continuing on, climbing the next flight. As they neared the top, he put a hand out, urging Anna to wait as he took the last three stairs, stepping onto the tiny landing.

  It was empty. Silent. Anna was sure her ragged breath echoed like screams in the still air. But Dade didn’t seem to notice, his full attention riveted to Anna’s front door. He took slow steps forward, his sneakers squeaking against the hardwood. One hand reached out, pushing on the door.

  It easily swung inward.

  His eyes immediately cut to Anna in a silent question. She shook her head. There was no way she’d leave her place unlocked.

  They’d beaten her here.

  Dade took a step forward, over the threshold, then froze, his eyes cutting to the apartment to the left. He stiffened. Anna followed his gaze.

  A thin line of red liquid oozed out from under her neighbor’s front door.

  Anna’s stomach seized. Her right hand twitched again for the comforting grip of a nonexistent gun.

  Mrs. Olivia.

  With a backward glance at Anna’s door, Dade moved to the left, gun straight out in front of him, his body rigid. Anna left her crouchin
g position in the stairwell and followed a step behind, keeping one eye on her own door, expecting armed gunmen to jump out at any minute.

  “Stay close,” Dade whispered, untucking his shirt and using the hem to cover his prints as he slowly turned the doorknob to Mrs. Olivia’s apartment.

  She did, standing just at his back.

  The first thing she saw was a foot. It was encased in a pink house slipper, worn on the sole, twisted backwards at an unhealthy angle. Mrs. Olivia was wearing a matching pink housecoat, buttoned clear up to the top, the shade pale, like her halo of white curls, still perfectly coiffed in place as she lay sprawled on the floor just inside the door. Her eyes were open, wide behind her bifocals. A deep red stain spread across her chest, leaking onto the floor, creating a trail of sticky red as it congealed along the door frame.

  Numb. Just go numb.

  Dade did a silent sweep of the apartment, moving quickly through the tiny room. A television sat in the corner, muted as The Price Is Right flickered across the screen. A glass of milk, half finished, sat next to a faded armchair, the bed along the far wall unmade. The kitchen was a carbon copy of Anna’s, though the bathroom was situated to the left, opposite Anna’s apartment. Anna watched Dade enter, only to emerge a moment later lowering his weapon. The apartment was clear.

  He leaned down beside the body and placed two fingers at the side of Mrs. Olivia’s neck, even though it was obvious no blood pulsed there now. He looked up, shook his head silently from side to side.

  Anna nodded, took shallow breaths, tried not to remember the last time she’d spoken to Mrs. Olivia. She’d been complaining about the noise, saying that Lenny’s barking was so loud she couldn’t hear Jeopardy! Anna had promised she’d do her best to keep him quiet. She’d ended up feeding him close to an entire box of bacon treats just to keep him complacent enough to stave off an angry call to the landlord. She’d cursed Mrs. Olivia all night long as Lenny’s digestive system had protested, emitting enough noxious gases to warrant a Haz-mat. The woman had been nosey and annoying.