Spy Fall

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Spy Fall Page 12

by Audrey Randall


  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Brandon

  Brandon kept thinking of Delilah in the van in front of the house. His heart beat faster as he thought of her in danger. He knew that she was with Rebecca and a team was placed strategically around the house, but he couldn’t help having a feeling in his gut that something was off.

  “You in the zone, Brandon? I need you to be in the zone,” Donaldson commanded him as they attached his streaming camera to the front of his shirt.

  “No, I’m good. Just thinking about my girl,” he replied as he grabbed his baseball cap off the car dashboard.

  Donaldson clicked his tongue. “Man, you never should let your girl be where you are trying to conduct a mission. You need your head in the game!”

  “I know. I know.” Brandon breathed out as he grabbed the dark, bomber jacket at his feet.

  “What are you planning to do with her? You are never stateside.”

  “Yeah. I know. We’ll work it out somehow. I can’t be apart from her again. Now that it’s on this level, there’s no way that I will be able to let her go.”

  Donaldson nodded his head, “Never thought I’d see the day when the great Brandon Ryker would fall.”

  Brandon let out a huff, “That’s because I fell years ago when I first saw her, I just didn’t let myself believe that it could happen. What you are seeing is years in the making coming true.”

  “Hell man,” Donaldson breathed out, “I hope it all works out for you.”

  “Me too,” Brandon murmured as he put in his earpiece. “Can you hear me? Over.”

  Rebecca and Delilah’s voices popped up, “I…”

  “We…”

  “One at a time, ladies,” Brandon laughed.

  “We can hear you. Be careful, babe,” Delilah’s voice gave him shivers. Never had she used an endearment so lovingly before.

  “I will, Delish. I look forward to tonight,” he laughed harder when both Donaldson and Rebecca gave disgusted groans. “Okay. Show time.”

  With that, Brandon hopped out of the nondescript black van and pulled out three pizza boxes. They had ordered the pizzas and another agent had picked them up. Their smell made the Brandon’s mouth water. He found it funny that he was using actual pizzas, but he planned to attack the person who opened the front door when they turned to put them down.

  He also planned to attack using his hands, so he didn’t need to worry about hiding a gun. Most agents would call him a fool for not having his weapon ready, but he preferred to use his martial arts skills. It was quieter for one, and he thought that it respected his enemy more. Brandon always felt that maybe he watched too many Bruce Lee movies or something as a lonely kid, but he felt that his opponent should have the honor of seeing their death coming and having a chance to fight back. He knew that it was crazy to even allow them a chance, but he was also cocky enough to know that his skills never really let it get taken that far. Even with weapons drawn on him, he knew how to handle it.

  “Use a gun, you nut!” he heard Donaldson stage whisper as he closed the van door.

  Nodding his head he moved his way down the block toward the house. It was a beautiful, clear night in the city. From this vantage point coming down the hill, he could see the Bay Bridge all lit up with Treasure Island in the distance. The twinkling lights of the city never failed to make him feel pride. It was beautiful and it was his duty to protect it. There was no way that he would allow these gangsters to set up shop in his backyard.

  Glancing over at the van as he made his way down, he imagined Delilah sitting in there, watching his every move. It comforted him to have her close, but he also hoped that he wouldn’t feel the need to show off for her and get himself in trouble. She would be his downfall, if he wasn’t careful.

  The house was really nice. Brandon couldn’t get over the style in which these bad guys lived. Knocking on the door, he waited. His heart beat fast as he heard the thumps of someone heavy making their way to the door. He figured that they had to be at least two-hundred twenty pounds based on how they sounded.

  The old door opened with a squeak and the man who filled the doorway was just as Brandon guessed. Big, burly, barely having a neck. He looked like a goon from his shiny suit to his slicked hair.

  “Your pizza’s, sir,” Brandon said as he moved them toward the man.

  “Yah,” he answered with his thick accent. He grabbed the pizzas in his meaty hands and then turned to place them on the table next to the door.

  Brandon seized that moment to attack. Being tall had its advantages. Reaching over, he pressed on a pressure point on the man’s neck and paralyzed him. Brandon smiled imagining Delilah thinking that it looked like some Star Trek Vulcan mind trick as she watched on the security feed. The man’s legs gave way and Brandon took the opportunity to break his neck. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t risk the man coming back and attacking him later. Kneeling next to the man, Brandon placed a hand on his forehead, wishing him well.

  “Was that the door? Are the pizzas here?” A male voice called out in Inhovakian from the kitchen area.

  Brandon grabbed the pizzas and made his way to the kitchen. By his estimation, there were four bad guys left.

  “Two in the kitchen. One near the sink and the other sitting at the island,” Delilah’s voice came over the headpiece. Brandon nodded slightly, knowing that she could see him in the cameras.

  Walking carefully to the kitchen, Brandon peeked around the corner to get a true gage of the room. Seeing the two thugs exactly where Delilah reported them to be, he took a deep breath before engaging.

  Stepping into the room, he had the advantage with the two men surprised by his presence. Using one of the pizzas boxes like a Frisbee, he threw it at the man sitting in the chair. The man looks stunned as the box hit him straight in the head. Brandon had to stifle a laugh. It was sort of amusing as the man made an oomph and fell out of the chair.

  The man at the sink, turned and grabbed a knife from the block.

  “Can’t we just talk this out?” Brandon asked him in Inhovakian with a smile.

  The man looked a bit surprised by Brandon’s response. He moved toward Brandon brandishing the knife. “Okay! I get your point.” Brandon told him as he dropped the other pizzas.

  The man charged at him and Brandon, grabbed his stabbing arm, twisting it with a sickening snap. Brandon put his hand over the man’s mouth as he then snapped his neck.

  The man in the chair shook his head to clear it and started to get up.

  Brandon raised a brow at him, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

  The guy looked to be young. Brandon really didn’t want to hurt him. He obviously was new. He shook his head saying no.

  “Fine. I won’t hurt you, but tell me what is going on here,” Brandon demanded. If he could get some inside intelligence, that would be helpful.

  “Brandon, what are you doing?” He heard Delilah say over his headpiece.

  “There’s a hostage here. Down the hall and to the left,” the man said, still sitting on the floor.

  Brandon made his way over to him and reached out to grab him, paralyzing him before he hit him alongside the head. The man should be out for a few hours.

  “I know it’s a risk not to kill him, but I think he may be useful later,” Brandon spoke to the ladies.

  “Don’t do something stupid, Brandon. I want you back in one piece,” Delilah pleaded.

  “I promise, Delish. I’ll give you my whole piece and more,” Brandon teased.

  Grabbing the knife, he headed out the kitchen and made his way down the hall.

  “What is on the left again? If I remember it’s a small closet,” Brandon spoke into the headpiece.

  “Yes. It is,” Rebecca answered. “A heat signature is registered in there.”

  Brandon tried the door and found it locked. Pulling out his kit, he first used his snake camera to wind under the doorway to see what might be there.

  “It looks like someone is in
side. I can’t tell. It’s dark,” he reported back to the women.

  Grabbing his lock breaking tools, he pried open the lock and almost didn’t believe his eyes.

  Sitting in front of him was a woman who had obviously been used as a punching bag. The most surprising thing was that she looked exactly like Rebecca.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Delilah

  Watching the images come through the camera attached to Brandon’s chest made Delilah’s heart skip a beat. “What the…?”

  She turned around to look at Rebecca who sat behind her with a gun pointed at her.

  “Rebecca? What the heck?”

  “Rebecca?” Rebecca spat out. Her voice had changed to have an Eastern European accent. “I am not Rebecca, as you are probably figuring out.”

  “Okay,” Delilah dragged out as she held up her hands. “So what is going on?”

  “You haven’t figured it out yet? Idiots!” Rebecca said something in her language. “My name is Loxana. I am Rebecca’s twin and now I am the woman who will take you and the rest of your associates down.”

  Delilah had never felt more fear. She worried she would wet her pants at any moment. But, having watched many Bond movies, she knew that she might have a chance to keep this crazy lady talking. She carefully flipped the switch so that Olivia could hear what was going on.

  “Don’t you flip that switch, bitch!” Loxana reached over and flipped it off.

  “Fine. Okay, whatever you want,” Delilah moved away from the panel. “What do you want from me?”

  “You? You are nothing. After we take out you and your boyfriend, I will continue to be ‘Rebecca’ and help the cause.”

  “What cause? I mean how did you infiltrate the Secret Service?” Delilah couldn’t wrap her head around it, she just hoped that this woman was overly proud of what she had done and would want to divulge what was going on.

  “Easy. My sister, Rebecca and I were separated at birth in Inhovakia. While she was adopted out to a nice English family, I was left in the orphanage. Thank God, when I was a teen I met Nicholi who took me in.”

  “Nicholi? The bratva boss?” Delilah asked as she tried to look around for something to use as a weapon.

  “Don’t even try it, bitch. There’s nothing for you to use.”

  “Why do you keep calling me bitch? What did I ever do to you?” Delilah tried to keep the conversation going.

  “That’s what you are. Privileged bitch. You know nothing of what life is like in other parts of the world. To starve. To fight for every scrap of affection. Nicholi will help Boholav make Inhovakia better.”

  “So, you are planning to take Rebecca’s place forever?” Delilah noticed that there was an umbrella behind the driver’s seat.

  “Why not? She lived years in luxury in England and now the states. It’s my turn now.”

  “How did you get past all the clearances and stuff? I mean I assume things are tight at the Secret Service.”

  Loxana looked pleased with herself. Delilah could tell that she was enjoying sharing how she had fooled everyone. “Easy. I fit the profile and I just say my card doesn’t work. Now, it’s time for you to die, my dear. I wish I could say that it was a pleasure knowing you.”

  “One more question!” Delilah struck out as she turned herself a bit to ready herself to grab the umbrella. “Why didn’t you just kill Rebecca? It would have made things cleaner.”

  “We may need her, my dear Delilah. However, we don’t need you.”

  “Whoa! What’s that?” Delilah pointed to a screen over Loxana’s shoulder.

  Loxana, without thinking, turned to look. Delilah turned around, grabbed the umbrella and smacked Loxana on the head. Loxana turned and let out a roar.

  “Die another day,” Delilah mumbled to herself as she prepared for Loxana’s attack. Pulling her arm back to try to keep it from Loxana, she tripped on the chair behind her and fell backward. Delilah got lucky and didn’t hit her head, but did fall on her bum. Loxana loomed over her and held her gun pointed at her.

  Delilah swung her arm wildly with the umbrella and made contact with the gun. Loxana screamed as Delilah drew back and then poked the sharp end of the umbrella into Loxana’s stomach. Jumping to her feet, even faster than she thought she could, Delilah grabbed the gun and pointed it at Loxana.

  “Sit. Don’t make me go all Assassin’s Creed on your ass,” she commanded as she pointed with the gun toward the chair.

  Loxana sat slowly, pushing her hair out of her face as she held onto her stomach, where a red mark was beginning to spread across her shirt.

  Once she sat, Delilah never took her eyes off her as she pulled out her phone and called Olivia.

  “Olivia. We have an issue. Get someone here now,” she demanded.

  “They should be…” just as Oliva began speaking, the back doors to the car opened and Donaldson stepped in.

  “Donaldson’s here. Something is going wrong inside. I don’t know what because I have been busy with Rebecca who is not really Rebecca,” she spoke into her phone as Donaldson tied Loxana up.

  “What do you mean?” Oliva squawked.

  “I’ll share more later, but we need to get back to inside to Brandon. I think that someone should go in. I have a feeling that this is heading south.”

  “I’ll head in,” Donaldson offered.

  “Donaldson will go in,” she reported back to Olivia.

  “Great. I’ll send someone by to grab whatever her name is.”

  With that, Delilah hung up. “GO!” she said to Donaldson who seemed to be watching her nervously.

  Without any more prompting, he opened the back of the van and made his way across the street.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Brandon

  “Rebecca? What is going on,” Brandon carefully made his way to her. The room was small and dark, setting his nerves on edge.

  Her eyes looked wide and fearful as he came close to her. He carefully untied the cloth around her mouth and then began working on her hands.

  “Brandon, it’s so good to see you. My twin sister, Loxana, has taken my place. Be careful, Nicholi is here,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

  “Do you know where?” He started untying her legs and noticed that she had no shoes.

  “Somewhere. Careful,” she warned.

  “I’ll be careful. You stay here and I’ll be back for you,” he breathed as he moved back to the doorway.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Brandon closed the door behind him.

  “I’m back, Brandon. You should know that Rebecca is not who she appears to be. Be careful in there. The Rebecca we know is really her twin sister.”

  “I know. Looking for Nicholi now.”

  “Donaldson is coming in to help,” she told him just as the front door opened and Donaldson appeared. The man had impeccable timing.

  Brandon motioned for him to follow him upstairs. Drawing his gun, he held it at the ready as they began making their way up the stairs.

  Once at the top of the landing, Brandon noticed that the master bedroom double doors were open. Silently, with Donaldson behind him, they made their way down the hall. Once they made it to the bedroom doors, Donaldson moved to one side while he stood at the other.

  “Master bedroom,” he barely breathed as he spoke into his mic.

  “Two heat signatures,” Olivia answered.

  Brandon made the hand motions to let Donaldson know that two people were in the room. Nodding his understanding, Brandon and Donaldson burst into the room, guns drawn.

  Standing in the middle of the room, was Nicholi and one of his thugs with guns drawn. Nicholi was crouched under near the desk as the goon let off a shot near the bed. Donaldson fired his weapon and shot the thug, killing him instantly.

  Brandon kept his weapon drawn. “Come out, Nicholi. There’s no way to get out of this. The building is surrounded.”

  “I have it surrounded as well,” Nicholi called out.

  “Sure
you do,” Brandon sarcastically drew out, “Come out you, bastard.”

  “Would you believe that I have one hundred men around the building?” Nicholi called out.

  Brandon knew what he was doing. Nicholi was trying to distract him from what was really going on. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all day. Get over here, you weenie.”

  “How dare you call me that!” Nicholi jumped up and ran at him.

  Brandon took the shot and got him in the arm. Dropping to the ground, Nicholi screamed like a baby.

  “Is this guy for real?” Donaldson asked in amazement.

  “Inhovakia is a small country. There’s not many people to choose from to lead the bratva,” Brandon teasingly defended Nicholi as they watched him writhe on the ground.

  Donaldson nodded his head. “Okay. You got me there.”

  “Olivia and Delilah, call in the troops. We have Nicholi,” Brandon called into his mic.

  “Copy,” Olivia answered.

  Within a moment, the front door opened and steps were heard coming up the stairs. Men with guns filled the room and two moved forward to take the screaming Nicholi from the floor.

  “Take him away, boys!” Brandon heard Delilah say from behind him. When he turned, he saw her standing near the doorway smiling at him. She gave him a little mischievous smile. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

  “Get over here!” Brandon dragged her into his arms and kissed her as the men around them cleared up the scene. Once he was finished, he grabbed her hand, “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Take me away, secret agent man!” Delilah laughed as he dragged her down the stairs.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Delilah

  A few hours later at home…

  Delilah stared at the clock blinking 4:31 AM in red next to her bed. The whole thing seemed like some sort of bizarre dream. The only thing that let her know that it actually happened was Brandon’s warm body behind her, his hard stomach and arm anchoring her to him. As she felt his breath flutter her hair, she tried to take in the last few days. Kidnapping, helping the CIA and Secret Service, catching a mobster, possibly helping take down a government, and almost most surprising - the affections of her longtime best friend.

 

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