A Necessary Kill

by James P. Sumner

  I roll my eyes and look away for a moment. “Ah, Ruby?”

  Still leaning over, she looks back at me. “What?”

  “You, ah… you have one of those gowns on that doesn’t have a back. And…” I sigh, struggling with the subtlety. “…You don’t have any underwear on.”

  She frowns, glances back at herself momentarily, and then at me. She shrugs. “What’s your point?” She smiles and turns away, retrieves the water, stands up straight, and takes a sip.

  I massage my forehead with my hand.

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen the same woman naked this many times and had it be a problem for me.

  She walks tentatively over to me “So what’s the plan?”

  I frown. “Plan? What plan?”

  “To get me out of here?”

  “Oh… No, I didn’t make a plan.”

  “What do you mean? How can you come in here without an escape plan?”

  I shrug. “Look what happened last time I tried to get you out of somewhere. Figured there wasn’t much point planning anything.”

  “What the…? I can’t believe you’d be so—”

  My smile stops her, and she shakes her head. “Asshole! Don’t mess with me like that!”

  I scoff. “Oh, because you’ve never done that to me, have you?”

  “That’s different. I’m a woman.”

  “Whatever.”

  “So, what is your plan?”

  “We’re just gonna walk out the front door and drive off.”

  She looks at me blankly for a moment. “That’s your plan? Just… walk out of here?”

  I nod. “Yup.”

  “Jesus! I think I preferred it when I thought you didn’t have one…”

  I laugh. “Just follow my lead.” I tug on my lapels. “And respect the white coat, bitch.”

  She smiles.

  I walk over to the far side of the room where a wheelchair’s parked against the wall. I push it over to her and gesture with my head. “Get in.”

  She sits down, somewhat begrudgingly, and leans back, looking up at me. “Are you sure this will work? Your track record with ideas isn’t great.”

  “Are you kidding me? My shit always works… sometimes.”

  She looks forward. “We’re so dead,” she mutters.

  I push her to the door, step around and open it. I stick my head out and look at the cop on the left. “Hey, would you mind getting the door please? I’m taking Miss DeSouza for a couple of follow-up tests.”

  The cop turns around and, without a word, holds the door open for me.

  “Thanks.”

  I move back and push Ruby into the corridor. I set off toward the elevators, walking purposefully, like I figure a doctor would.

  I frown as I hear footsteps behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see both cops following us.

  Shit.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask them.

  The one who held the door shakes his head. “No, sir. But your patient is wanted for questioning, and until the Feds arrive, wherever she goes, we go.”

  Wonderful.

  I smile at them. “Of course, sorry.”

  We move into the waiting area, and I make a point of casually looking to my left as we pass the front desk in case the guy sitting there decides to point out the fact I’m not actually a doctor.

  We make it to the elevator and I lean over and press the call button. It arrives after a moment, stopping with a ding. The doors slide open, and I push Ruby inside, positioning her wheelchair so she’s next to me facing the doors. The two cops step in and stand in front of us.

  “Which floor?” one of them calls behind.

  I glance forward. There are only six buttons. “Top floor, please.”

  I can see Ruby staring quizzically at me in my peripheral vision. I turn and wink at her.

  The doors slide shut and we begin our ascent. We pass the third floor. I start planning my next few moves. I’ll need three, I think. Two targets, close quarters… yeah, three should do it.

  We pass the fourth. Then the fifth.

  And…

  I kick the cop in front of me in the back of his knee, hard.

  First move.

  As he buckles, I slam into him with my shoulder, sending him head first into the doors. He drops to the floor, out for the count.

  Second move.

  I hit the emergency stop button as I launch my elbow at the cop in front of Ruby, who hasn’t yet managed to react to what’s happening. It connects with the side of his throat and he falls backward, sliding to the floor, making a horrible wheezing sound, like a gurgle.

  Third move. Job done.

  “You good?” I ask Ruby, who’s sitting staring at me with the same bemused smile she gave me when I took out the guards at Stonebanks, back in Baltimore.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just—”

  She stops and frowns at the cop at her feet, still making the noise and clutching his throat. She slams her foot into his face, and he falls silent.

  “That was annoying…”

  I smile. “Right, we need to change.”

  She looks at me, frowning again. “Change? Into what?”

  I nod at the cops on the floor.

  She shakes her head. “Oh, no. No way. I’m not putting a uniform on. Not a fucking chance.”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  “But…” She sighs. “Well… no, but they’ll be too big for me. It’ll look ridiculous, and obvious.”

  Oh yeah…

  “Okay, well…” I reach down and take both of the cops’ guns from their holsters. “…put these under your gown at least.”

  I hand them to her and she smiles, glaring at me with an insane mischief in her eyes. “Oooo, kinky!”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Now? Really?”

  She shrugs. “What? A girl’s gotta have some fun…”

  I restart the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor. We reach the top, and thankfully the doors open and close without anyone trying to get in. As we begin our descent, I drag the cops to the back and push Ruby to the front.

  “We need to be quick, okay?” I say to her. “I’ve got an SUV parked out front.”

  She nods. “Got it.”

  The doors open and we walk out. I push her toward the entrance, walking fast and looking away again as we pass the front desk.

  We’re almost at the doors now. Just a few more steps and we’re in the—

  “Hey! Wait a minute!”

  —clear. Fuck!

  I look over my shoulder. The nice lady behind the desk is standing and pointing at me. “Get back here! You can’t just walk a patient out of here! Security!”

  And we’re out of here…

  I run toward the SUV pushing Ruby in front of me. “Back seat!”

  She steps out of the chair as I bring it to a stop. The guns fall onto the ground.

  She crouches for them. “Ah, shit, sorry!”

  “Forget them, just get in the goddamn car!”

  She stands and climbs onto the back seat. I slam the door shut behind her and scoop up both guns before pushing the wheelchair away with my foot and climbing in behind the wheel. I drop the guns on the seat next to me, fire up the engine, and drive off. The tires screech loudly and throw up smoke behind us.

  “You okay?” I shout back as I check the mirrors to make sure we’re not being followed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She sounds short of breath.

  I catch her eye in the rearview and raise an eyebrow, asking a silent question.

  She sighs and rolls her eyes. “My shoulder hurts like hell, alright?”

  “We’ll pick you up some painkillers on the way.”

  “Where are we going?”

  I open the glove box and fumble around until I find a cell phone. I toss it onto the back seat.

  “Get the number for Caesar’s, then call them and book us a suite.”

  “Erm… Adrian? Don’t you think we should maybe conside
r leaving town?”

  I navigate the traffic as best I can, forcing myself to slow down so we don’t look like we’re fleeing a crime scene. “No, we need Jonas if we’re going to stand any chance here. Running away is no longer an option.”

  I hear her sigh behind me. “Okay… I’ll make the call.”

  “We’ll take a detour on the way to get you some clothes and aspirin or something. And when you’re done, I’ll call Oscar and see if he can deliver another bag of supplies to the suite for us.”

  I take a right and stop at a set of lights. I can hear Ruby on the phone behind me. I check the time on the SUV’s dashboard.

  Once we meet up with Jonas, we’ll start planning how to take the fight to these bastards, instead of simply waiting for them to come to us and defending ourselves. But right now, tomorrow seems a long way off.

  19

  MEANWHILE…

  15:31 EDT

  President Cunningham was alone in the Oval Office. After his daily briefing with the senior staff earlier that morning, he pushed his other appointments back a day, knowing many of them would be largely irrelevant, given everything that would happen in just a few hours.

  He sat behind the Resolute desk, his navy blue suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. He stared blankly at the documents in front of him, seeing the words on the page but not registering their meaning.

  He was angry at himself for allowing traces of doubt into his mind. Not doubt in terms of what he was doing and why, but more about whether or not it would work. Everything had played out as expected so far, with the obvious exception of Adrian Hell. He was confident that particular situation would be handled soon, now that he had passed that responsibility on to Director Atkins.

  But while things had turned out as planned, the way they had was, at times, anything but smooth, and that worried him. Director Matthews, for example—all the things he had tasked that incompetent idiot with had been done, but it seemed to be more through luck than strategy. Adrian Hell… the mission in Prague with his D.E.A.D. unit… even the management of El-Zurak and his men—it could’ve been done far more efficiently, and now he was concerned he was losing control of things. He hated second guessing himself.

  But he also knew that once the next phase was underway, the rest of it would play out by itself. There was only one way it could possibly end. Knowing he was close to the stage where he no longer had to do anything provided him with some comfort. It made him think of a father teaching his son to ride his first bicycle. The training wheels were off, and he was holding the back of the seat with his hand while his son pedaled. Then, when the time was right, he would subtly let go and watch his child ride off into the world.

  He knew he would soon be able to relax and watch as everything slowly crumbled around him, ready to be rebuilt, stronger than ever before, with him heading up the transition into a new era of peace for mankind.

  A knock at the door interrupted his musings. He looked up as Gerald Heskith entered the room and walked hurriedly toward him from his own office.

  Cunningham frowned. He detected the stress from Heskith’s body language—the fast walk, the furrowed brow, the tensed jaw… “Gerry, what’s wrong?”

  “Mr. President, I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically flustered. “But we have a… situation that requires your immediate attention.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s Matthews, sir. He’s gone.”

  “Already? That’s great news, surely?”

  “No, Mr. President—you don’t understand. He’s alive. He’s just… disappeared. I spoke to Julius Jones over at Langley. He said Matthews left carrying a briefcase a few hours ago, saying he’d be back later today. Jones said the whole thing didn’t sit right with him, so he went to Matthews’ office to look around. The entire room had been cleared out. Every piece of paper in there—gone.”

  Cunningham stood quickly, sending his chair rolling away behind him. He pointed a finger at Heskith, his anger overshadowing any sense or reason. “You find him, Gerry—do you hear me? Find him!”

  Heskith nodded, holding his hands up defensively and taking a subconscious step away from the desk. “We’re doing everything we can, sir. I’ve spoken to our new… contractor—he’s tracking him down as we speak.”

  Cunningham sighed and paced back and forth behind his desk. “He had everything, Gerry. Do you understand? Everything. This Adrian Hell business is one thing—the information he has is cause for concern, I know, but we’d be able to explain it all away in time. But Matthews has everything. In lots of detail. If he gets a sudden bout of conscience, we’re finished.”

  “I understand, sir. Leave it with me. It’s best you don’t know any more about this.”

  Cunningham let out another long sigh before sitting back down. He could feel the tension building between his eyebrows just above the bridge of his nose. He used a finger to quickly massage away the beginnings of a headache. He looked up at Heskith. “Fix this.”

  The chief of staff nodded and left without a word. President Cunningham leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at his desk once more.

  17:45 EDT

  After a tense couple of hours, Cunningham had retired to the residence early. His anger and concerns had eventually given way to butterflies ahead of the history-making events that were only a few hours away.

  He sat facing the fireplace cradling a glass of brandy in his hand and staring thoughtfully at the flames. The smell from his glass was strong but not unpleasant. Brandy was one of the few luxuries he allowed himself. He gave up his life to politics knowing his destiny was always to be exactly where he was, doing exactly what he was doing. He had seen it so clearly from a young age. He had foregone a typical childhood, having very few friends and even fewer relationships. He had no interest in getting married or having children. He just had his mission. But brandy was the exception. He had started drinking it in his mid-twenties and fell in love with it from the first sip. He kept his glass on the mantel above the fireplace, so it remained subtly warm for when he poured himself a measure—a trick one of his old college professors taught him.

  He cradled his tumbler, occasionally sipping at the expensive amber fluid. Next to him, the day’s newspaper lay on the mahogany table in the glow of the lamp, waiting to be perused.

  But he couldn’t focus on reading. All he could think about was what the world would look like tomorrow, and whether or not there would be any more surprises that could threaten everything he had worked for before then.

  The business with Matthews had really angered him. And worried him. He knew Heskith would handle it, but that wasn’t the point. The risk of exposure was massive, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that his luck might run out before tomorrow.

  He took some deep breaths and another sip of his drink, trying to relax. He wasn’t there yet, but he was in the home stretch. He checked his watch and smiled.

  Just under four hours to go.

  20

  ADRIAN HELL

  22:02 EDT

  Caesar’s is incredible! I’ve never stayed anywhere as nice as this. The suite Ruby booked is a premium deluxe something-or-other in the Centurion Tower, with a view of the ocean from the room. There are two queen-size beds facing a large TV screen and a section of the suite that consists of armchairs and a low table, like a lounge. The bathroom, on the left as you enter the suite, is wall-to-wall marble. Cold, yet opulent.

  Ruby lay on one of the beds, resting. That bullet must have really shaken her—she’s not taken her clothes off once since we got here…

  I’ve been pacing up and down the room pretty much since we arrived earlier this afternoon. We’ve kept a low profile—we haven’t ventured out of the suite once, and we’ve ordered room service when we’ve needed food or drink.

  Tomorrow, with some luck, Jonas Briggs will arrive and we can finally start planning this thing. I feel like I’ve been trapped in some kind of purgatory—every time I look f
orward, something crops up behind me and keeps me rooted to the spot. I’ve been running for weeks now, and I’m fast-approaching the point where I’m ready to just stop, turn around, and shoot whoever’s chasing me.

  “Will you sit down? You’re giving me a headache.”

  I’m standing at the window, looking out at the balcony and the city beyond, all lit up and bustling with activity below. I glance over my shoulder at her and smile apologetically. “Sorry. I’m just anxious.”

  “Well, learn to relax a little, would you?” She reaches over for the remote and clicks the TV into life and settles for the first thing she finds, which looks like some kind of sitcom. She pats the bed next to her. “Come on, sit down. Enjoy.”

  I look at the space beside her and raise an eyebrow.

  She sighs. “I’m not going to eat you—man up, will you?”

  I roll my eyes, move around the bed, sit down, and rest against the plush headboard. I let out a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment.

  “Attaboy,” she says. I can hear the smile in her voice. “Now…”

  Her hand rests on my leg, high up my thigh. My eyes snap open, I spring to my feet, and stare at her. She starts laughing.

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

  I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. “Look, it’s been hard enough what with you flashing me every two seconds…”

  She raises an eyebrow. “Has it now? There’s hope for you yet, Adrian!”

  Her playful smile does little to help matters. “What? No, not like that… Just… okay, look—I’m on the edge, alright? I’m this close to losing my fucking mind! I have to kill the president, and the entire country is gunning for me. I’ve not taken one step toward getting this fixed, and people are depending on me. I’m sick and fucking tired of running. I just want everything simplified and broken down. I want to be pointed in the right direction and told where to shoot. That’s it! I don’t need any more drama or temptation or fucking anything getting in my way. Just…”