Change of Fortune

by Jana DeLeon

  I ran through the plan again in my mind, then got off the chair and squatted behind the wall, practicing my aim at the door. Then I got back in the chair and practiced a dive behind the wall and the subsequent positioning for fire. I paced the room a couple of times, checking the hidden weapons and repositioning a couple of them slightly for better access, then flopped down in the chair again.

  I looked at my watch. That had taken all of eight minutes and felt as though I’d expended at least thirty. I was just about to pace the room again when comm broke in.

  “Ahmad has entered the property through the hedges on the west property line. Deploy aqua team now. Ground force, remain in position until his men appear, then proceed with orders.”

  I knew the orders were to shoot on sight, but you never said that out loud over the comm.

  “Deploying now,” Harrison said.

  I rose from the chair and walked behind the block wall. If Ahmad was moving at a normal pace, Harrison’s team should exit the tunnel about the time he entered the basement. Ahmad would come for me, Harrison’s team would move in behind, and in a couple hours, I’d be having a drink with my friends to celebrate. That’s exactly how I chose to envision it.

  Clenching my pistol, I looked up at the ceiling, silently praying.

  If you’re listening, I’d appreciate any help you can throw my way. There’re a lot of people counting on me to walk out of here, and well, I’m sorta counting on it myself. Thanks in advance.

  I drew in a big breath and slowly blew it out, then sank down, one knee up, one down. I inched into the perfect firing position and placed my hands on the blocks, steadying my aim at the door. A head shot was risky in the dim light, even for someone with my ability, but I had no way of knowing if he was strapped with a bomb and couldn’t risk a center mass shot. The pistol was CIA issue and had been modified for rapid fire, so I’d have time to get off more than one round. If he attempted to retreat, I would put them in his back if I had to in order to keep him from getting away. I’d just have to risk any explosives at that point.

  The seconds ticked away, and I felt the sweat collecting on my brow. I brushed it away with my forearm and focused on the door. On my breathing.

  And I slipped back into the world I’d left behind.

  All of my senses were heightened as if they’d been amplified by magic, but I knew it was a combination of natural ability and lots of experience. Every sound was as if through stereo. Every glance revealed each minor detail of the surface it covered. My skin tingled with anticipation even as my breathing and heart rate slowed to prepare for the shot.

  I was in the zone, and it felt so comfortable. As if I’d come home again.

  My overly sensitive hearing picked up the squeak of hinges.

  “Ahmad has entered the warehouse,” comm said. “He’s alone and headed for the basement stairs. Harrison should breach…”

  The transmission cut out, but I figured the team must be close. The timing was perfect. By the time Ahmad got to my room, Harrison and his team should be out of the tunnel and ready to move in behind him. If for any reason I missed my opportunity, or was never presented one, they would be there to ensure success. This was it. My last few seconds of being held prisoner in a fake identity. The last time I’d have to claim a silly name and a past as a beauty queen.

  Ahmad was trying to remain quiet and he was good at it, but my hearing was better. The faint shuffle of his feet on the concrete was all I needed to know he was almost there. Any second now, that door would open, and I’d get the chance I’d been praying for. I had a twinge of concern that I hadn’t heard Harrison check in, but it was possible his comm system had been damaged during the swim. He said he would be there, and they’d had time to breach. I could only hope they were getting in position to head Ahmad off.

  I heard the faint scratch of tools being placed inside the lock, then the click when it released. The door moved a tiny bit and my finger tightened on the trigger. I was laser focused as I watched the door. Not blinking. Not breathing. I waited for the moment to strike. I knew he was standing there, listening, but I gave him nothing to hear. A couple seconds later, the door started to open, and I saw a shadow appear on the wall behind the cracked door. He couldn’t see me behind my wall. Not yet. I stayed crouched low. I needed him to move farther inside.

  Comm started issuing orders, but I only heard pieces. “Ahmad’s men in vehicles…inside building…ground troops…”

  Then rapid fire broke out inside the warehouse.

  Shit!

  Ahmad’s men must have entered the warehouse after him and had drawn Harrison’s unit out from the basement, forcing them to engage. Which sent the team upstairs into the lobby instead of down the hallway to me. Comm was sending ground in to help with the battle inside the warehouse, but that help was some distance away and likely, Ahmad had more men on the outside for ground to deal with.

  My pulse ticked up a bit, and I concentrated on my breathing, forcing myself to remain in the zone. I watched as the shadow froze and I shifted a bit, trying to find a way to get off a kill shot. But before I could sight in, he slipped from the doorway and was gone. I jumped up and hurried after him, determined to end this now. I paused next to the door to listen but couldn’t make out anything but the exchange of fire coming from above. I peered around into the dim hallway and saw Ahmad slip around the corner.

  The only two ways out of the basement were through the gunfire in the entry and the tunnel. Ahmad wouldn’t walk into the middle of gunfire, but he’d risk the tunnel, even without gear or knowing how long it was. He was just that side of crazy.

  I ran down the hallway, not bothering to mask my footsteps. I had to get to him before he got in that tunnel. When I got to the room, I shoved the door, but it held fast. I knew there wasn’t a lock, so I assumed he’d pushed something in front of it. I took a couple steps back and launched at the door, using my shoulder as a battering ram. The door gave and I stumbled into the room just as Ahmad dropped into the tunnel.

  Damn!

  I ran to the edge of the opening and looked down but I couldn’t make out anything in the murky water. I’d left my radio back in the room and had no way of communicating with the team to intercept Ahmad when he exited the tunnel. And the odds of my making it through the gunfire in the entry and across the lawn, which probably contained more of Ahmad’s men, were slim to none. At least, not in the time it would take him to get through the tunnel and be gone. I hesitated for a split second, then shoved my pistol in my waistband, took a deep breath, and flipped over the side, headfirst into the tunnel.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I opened my eyes as soon as I entered the water, but it was too dark to see anything. When my hands touched the bottom, I twisted around to change direction and set off down the tunnel. I knew I had the lung capacity to make the swim, but it was pushing it, and I had to remain steady and control my excitement in order to conserve my air. Too much energy spent too soon and I wouldn’t have enough air to make it to the surface.

  Ahmad had taken a big risk going out this route. He had an indoor pool in his home, and I knew swimming was part of his regular routine, but I didn’t know if he’d trained for long-distance underwater swimming. What I did know was that he was the slickest, luckiest target I’d ever pursued. He had more lives than a cat, and if anyone could slip away from this unscathed, it was Ahmad.

  Unless I was there to stop him.

  I had been counting the seconds since I’d dropped into the water and knew I was over halfway through the tunnel. My lungs were starting to ache, and I knew the excitement of the situation was working against me. I concentrated on the rhythm of my hands and feet, forcing myself not to think about the increasing pain in my chest.

  When I was seconds from the end of the tunnel, my lungs started to burn and I let out some air, careful not to release it all at once. As soon as my lungs were empty, my body would start heaving, trying to force me to take in more air. My hands felt what was lef
t of the grate at the end of the tunnel, and I prayed Ahmad had run out of air before surfacing. But I wasn’t counting on it.

  I swam out of the tunnel and into the canal, letting out more air as I went, and pulled my pistol from my waist. I had to be ready to fire as soon as I surfaced. I could see a glimmer of light above me and I swam for it, my lungs starting to heave. With one final kick, I broke the surface, gasping for air. But as I drew in a breath, I scanned the water and bank, looking for Ahmad.

  And then he grabbed me from behind.

  His arm snaked around my neck, choking me as I lifted my arm to fire, but he knocked the pistol from my hand. A wave of dizziness passed over me, and I knew that if I didn’t get his arm off soon, I’d pass out. With every ounce of strength I could muster, I swung back with my left elbow and struck him in the jaw. His hold loosened on me just enough for me to get my teeth on his arm and bite down with all my might.

  I must have channeled Godzilla because he screamed and let go of me. I whirled around as he started to swim away and grabbed his hair, yanking his head back with my left hand. With my right, I pulled a knife from my belt and before he could make a move, I drew it across his throat.

  The entire thing seemed to happen in slow motion. I felt the knife slice into his skin and twisted him sideways. I needed to see him die. Blood seeped out of the thin line, making it appear as if it were growing wider and wider. His hands flew up to his neck and his eyes grew large. He stared directly at me—his hate was so clear, so vivid. He gurgled as his lips moved. Still trying to curse me, even as he drew his last breath.

  A million thoughts raced through my mind. Things I should say. Things he deserved to take to the grave with him. But ultimately, I said nothing. He didn’t deserve anything else from me. I’d already delivered the worst thing possible. Ahmad had died at the hands of a woman. And women weren’t supposed to matter at all, much less get the better of a man.

  His head bobbled from side to side and as the final breath of air left his body, it dropped forward into the water. His body went limp and started to sink. I grabbed his shirt and began to swim for the bank, dragging him along with me. No way was I letting him float away into oblivion. Thanks to Gertie, I’d seen too many movies that ended that way only for the bad guy to pop up alive and well in a sequel. I wanted Ahmad on an autopsy table, organs removed.

  I heard the footsteps when I reached for the canal wall. I looked up to see the end of an AK-47 in my face and one of Ahmad’s men staring at me in disbelief. I had another weapon on me, but there was no way I could get it from my ankle strap and fire before he did. Even if I’d been holding it, I couldn’t have gotten off a shot.

  “I can’t believe it,” he said. “You. It’s not possible.”

  “Oh, it’s possible all right,” I said, trying to distract him as I reached for the pistol on my ankle. I probably couldn’t get off a shot, but I wasn’t about to go out easy.

  When the shot sounded, I flinched, waiting for the pain to hit the instant before the lights went out. Instead, I saw an exit hole appear in the man’s forehead. His eyes widened and he fell forward into the canal. A couple seconds later, Carter rushed up to the edge of the bank wall and looked down at me.

  “Are you all right?” he said. “Is that Ahmad?”

  “Yes and yes,” I said as I reached out for the iron rungs cemented into the canal wall.

  “Is he dead?”

  “Hell yes!” I lifted Ahmad’s shirt and hung it on a broken rung, letting him dangle for a moment while I rested my arms.

  “What are you doing with him?”

  “I was thinking about stuffing him and putting him over the sofa. What do you think I’m doing? I want proof on a cold table in a morgue. Can you give me a hand? He’s getting heavy and I’m a little tired.”

  Before he could kneel down, a shot fired and I saw him flinch as it hit his arm. He dropped to the ground as a second shot rang out. From my position in the water, I couldn’t see the shooter. but I knew the shot had come from somewhere behind him. What I didn’t know was if the second shot had hit him or how badly he was hurt.

  I scrambled up the ladder and peered over the edge. Carter was reaching for his rifle, which he must have dropped when he fell. I saw movement in the shrubs behind him and grabbed the weapon in my ankle strap. At the same time, the man in the shrubs leveled his gun at Carter. The shot rang out and I screamed, then the man in the shrubs fell to the ground and I realized the shot had come from behind me.

  I whipped around and saw Mannie in the water on the other side of the canal, a rifle in his hand. He winked and slipped below the surface, disappearing completely. I hefted myself over the side of the wall as Carter grabbed his rifle and scanned the bushes.

  “Did you shoot him?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know where the shot came from. Must have been one of the team.”

  I heard running and whipped the pistol from my ankle, but when I looked toward the sound, I saw Harrison crossing the lawn. I slumped in relief and checked Carter up and down.

  “Were you hit anywhere but the arm?” I asked.

  “No. I was lucky. That second shot hit the ground not an inch from my head.”

  Harrison slid to a stop in the dirt as Carter rose, then leaned over to give me a hand up. He did a double take when he peered into the canal and saw Ahmad hanging on the broken rung.

  “You did it,” he said. “You crazy, insane woman. You followed him through that tunnel and killed him.” He grabbed me in a hug and lifted me off the ground, twirling me around. The agents who’d come up behind him started laughing and cheering and everyone shared high fives.

  When he finally set me down, his grin was so big it was probably hurting his face. “I can’t believe it. They’re going to be talking about this one at the agency for the next fifty years.”

  He looked at Carter and clasped his good shoulder. “Thank you for being part of the team.”

  “Were there any casualties?” I asked.

  “Only the bad guys,” Harrison said. “Two of Ahmad’s men were already going down the hallway when we exited the tunnel. They engaged, and we retreated to the lobby where two more were waiting. I lost comm in the water and didn’t know where Ahmad was. A couple of my men took a round, but nothing life-threatening. Paramedics are on the way. Let’s get your man some medical attention. I’ll get that body up. I’ve never been this happy to carry a corpse.”

  Harrison headed down the canal wall, and Carter and I stood staring at each other for a couple seconds. I think we were both in shock, or at least a form of mild disbelief. It was over. My long nightmare had come to a bloody but successful end. He took one step toward me and I ran into his arms, tears already flowing.

  “Let’s go home,” he said.

  Home.

  That word meant something completely different now than it had before.

  It meant everything.

  As a paramedic attended to Carter’s arm, a car pulled up and Ida Belle and Gertie jumped out. They ran over, both tackling me in a hug, while laughing and crying at the same time. When we finally broke lose, they made a fuss over Carter, who, despite being shot, was in as good a mood as they were.

  “It’s only a scratch,” he said. “Doesn’t even need stitches.”

  “It was so scary,” Gertie said. “Hearing part of what was going on, but having to guess at the rest.”

  Ida Belle nodded. “And then when the shooting broke out…well, it was rough.”

  “Ida Belle grabbed my rabbit’s foot and started praying.”

  “I wanted to double down on it,” Ida Belle said.

  “And then when Harrison came on and said everyone was alive, we started cheering,” Gertie said.

  “And when he said Ahmad was dead, we cheered ourselves hoarse,” Ida Belle said. “The comm guy was jumping up and down, whooping like a crazy person. I don’t think I’ve ever cried tears of joy, but I did today, and I’m thrilled to say that.”

  �
��The Ahmad end of things was a surprise for the rest of the team,” I said. “But ultimately, a great one given the way things turned out.”

  “Are they mad at Harrison?” Gertie asked.

  “No. They’re professionals. Harrison did what was necessary for a successful mission, and this one was huge. They’re all happy they played a role in it. It’s a big feather in their caps at the agency. Ahmad is a huge score.”

  “Harrison said you did the honors,” Ida Belle said. “That you jumped in the tunnel after him and fought him in the canal.”

  I nodded.

  “It sounds insane,” Gertie said, “but we get why you did it. And since it all turned out all right, we’re really happy you did.” Gertie teared up again. “Oh Fortune, this is it. The first moments of the rest of your new life.”

  She flung her arms around me and I hugged her tightly, smiling at Ida Belle and Carter over her shoulder. I thought that I’d be nervous about moving forward. About having a life without the CIA directing my every move. But now that it stretched in front of me, all I saw was a big, open canvas, with my new family standing right in the middle.

  Chapter Twenty

  It took several hours to wrap things up with the New Orleans police, who’d received a ton of calls about gunfire and shown up to the culmination of a massacre. Harrison shuffled Carter, Ida Belle, Gertie, and me out of the way and took point, claiming we were locals accidentally caught in the fray. The police chief talked to Director Morrow and eventually, everything calmed down and the questioning stopped. The paramedics hauled the bodies off with instructions that they were all to be flown to DC for processing.

  Once we were hustled off scene, we went back to the hotel. Carter and I had a hot shower—separately—and a change of clothes, then we all headed out for a much-needed meal. No one had eaten much that day, and now we were all starving. The dinner was full of excited talk as I recounted exactly what had happened, leaving out the part about Mannie delivering the final shot. It was better that everyone assumed it came from one of Harrison’s team, although I knew the forensic team back in DC would run ballistics and figure out that couldn’t be the case. It didn’t matter, though. They had no idea where to start looking for the other shooter, and I wasn’t about to help. My guess was they’d give it a cursory questioning, type up a report, and shelve it under “sometimes cool things happen.”