The Widow's Strike: A Pike Logan Thriller

by Brad Taylor

  The Sands was a technological marvel that encompassed a high-end mall, casino, and convention center. The hotel was three separate fifty-five-story towers capped with what looked like a cruise ship on top, called the SkyPark. The tower construction was what was causing our current dilemma.

  We were in tower one, and our target room was in tower three. Ordinarily, this would have been no issue whatsoever, but there was also some rock star celebrity delegation in tower three, and its elevators were now manned with uniformed security to keep out the paparazzi. You had to have a key that registered in that tower to go up, as the three towers weren’t connected horizontally. Only on the top and bottom.

  We’d learned quickly that, due to the size of the hotel, establishing a base of surveillance to catch the general leaving was impossible. There were simply too many exits. We needed early warning, a trigger that he was on the move and a direction. Which meant we needed access to his room.

  Initially, we were just going to forge a key-card for access to the elevator, using a special device that would spoof the door locks—which was how we would access his room—but the guards ran the key-card through a wireless reader. Connected to the reception desk, the reader showed who you were, when you checked in, your room number, and when you were scheduled to check out.

  The forged key only tricked the door. It couldn’t access the database. Basically, we’d have to spoof quite a few different systems to trick the guards, and we didn’t have time to test all of the intricacies. Too many single points of failure, which led us to our current predicament and Jennifer’s idea of climbing from the top of the building down.

  Decoy said, “Pike’s right. There’s no way you’re going to free-climb underneath forty meters of outcropping hanging two hundred meters above the ground. This isn’t Yellowstone, with a bunch of pitons already seated.”

  Jennifer said, “Wait, I’m not talking about going underneath the observation deck. Look at the blueprint. I can rappel right over the side near tower three and only have to go under about ten meters, on a curve. From there, I can get into the service stairwell through the window-cleaning balcony.”

  I said, “Still the same problem. What are you going to do, rappel down, and then start swinging until you collide underneath with the pylon on top of the tower? No way.”

  “Kurt said he gave us a complete package, didn’t he?”

  I didn’t like where this was going, knowing she was way ahead on something. “Yeah, so what?”

  “Well, it has climbing gear. Right?”

  I relaxed. “Yeah, but that still doesn’t alter the problem. I’m not dropping you over the side with a rope and harness. Swinging like Tarzan isn’t the answer.”

  “What about the Hollywood rig? And using the PVAC? I could drag myself down.”

  She said it like “Peevac,” an acronym for Personal Vacuum Assisted Climber, a device invented by a bunch of college students on an Air Force challenge. Basically, it was two vacuum-assisted hand attachments connected to a suction generator held on the back. Theirs sounded like a jet engine and had giant hoses going from the back to the hand devices, looking like something out of a bad science fiction movie. We’d laughed about it when one of our R & D guys said we should take a look. We quit laughing when we saw an engineering student go up a ninety-foot wall unassisted. A brick wall, with a rough surface.

  We’d taken the design and refined it. The hoses were a third of the size, and it only sounded like a large blender now. As good as it was, it wasn’t designed for something two hundred meters in the air.

  “Jennifer, you have to test the PVAC on the chosen surface before you use it. It’s not designed for unknown construction. We don’t even know if it’ll hold your weight here.”

  Blood was looking thoughtful. He tapped the map and said, “Yeah, but if she has the Hollywood rig, we’ll be holding the weight. She’ll just use the PVAC to pull herself under. It should work for that.”

  I glared at him, not wanting anyone to encourage the debate. He looked sheepish and said nothing more.

  Knuckles, turning from the map, said, “She can get over from the hot-tub area. It’s on the opposite side of the infinity pool and built for privacy. We could stage left and right, ensure it’s clear, then let her over. One controls the belay, everyone else provides early warning. Pike, this’ll work.”

  Jennifer gave him a look of gratitude while everyone else eyed me to see what I would say. I thought the idea was idiotic, but I was torn because the other members of the team were siding with Jennifer. Treating her like an equal, which was something I wanted. If I said no, they’d always wonder if I was protecting her because I didn’t trust her abilities. Meaning they shouldn’t either.

  She can climb like a monkey. And we don’t have any other way.

  “All right. We have about six hours until nightfall. Jennifer, hit the mall and get a couple of bathing suits for cover. I’ll be the belay at the hot tub. Retro, get the guys in DC to give us a readout on his door lock. Get all activity, tied with the time of entry. I want to know when they opened along with how long before they opened again. Marry that up with the maid service so we can exclude false entries. Blood and Decoy, head to the airport and download the kit. You know what we need. Knuckles, you and I will recce the deck to see if this circus stunt has a chance of working. You focus on cameras and foot-traffic avenues of approach. I’ll find the launch point.”

  Jennifer smiled and said, “This will be easy. Trust me.”

  I shook my head. “‘Trust me’ is usually what I say when I’m sure something’s going to shit.”

  28

  After an hour, Jennifer felt a little bit like a lobster in a pot. The key-card track to the general’s room had showed the door had been opened, but nothing since, which meant someone had opened the door and exited, or someone was still inside. They had to assume it was the latter, given the previous entries.

  She was beginning to second-guess her great idea of rappelling over the wall. Not only could they not guarantee the room was empty, but the rock star in tower three had chosen tonight to take over the observation deck. Not more than fifty meters away and one level lower, there was an enormous party going on. Five minutes couldn’t elapse without some drunk couple passing by to get another fill at the bar or gaze at the infinity pool.

  She hadn’t thought about it before, ignoring the glam of the Marina Bay Sands hotel, but the infinity pool had turned out to be a magnetic attraction. Just across from the hot tub, through the screen of lounges and foliage, it was an Olympic-sized pool that appeared to fade into the skyline of Singapore two hundred meters in the air. A unique marvel that caused all the invited party guests to come see and take pictures.

  It didn’t help that she was seated next to two obese gentlemen from Greece. One kept sliding closer to her in an attempt to make accidental contact with her thigh. The man would have disgusted her on an ordinary day, but tonight it was infinitely worse. She couldn’t allow any contact whatsoever, because he’d feel the harness attached around her waist.

  She waded into the center of the hot tub and turned around to face Pike, sliding her hands over his knees. Showing the slobs that she was taken.

  She felt Pike stiffen and inwardly smiled.

  She said, “You about ready to go back to the room?”

  Meaning, How long should we wait?

  He slid his hands over hers, raising them off of his knees.

  “I’m enjoying this. You mind staying for a little bit longer?”

  She pulled up to her waist, leaving the harness in the darkness, resting her elbows on his knees, relishing the discomfort she was giving him. She leaned in.

  “I’m enjoying this too. More than you are.”

  She watched his face contort, trying to read his emotions and seeing only confusion. She broke into a grin, the exhilaration of what she was about to do flowing through her. Along with enjoyment of her ability to twist him up.

  It wasn’t fair, but she did enj
oy it. Enjoyed the safety of his company. She could act like a woman without any fear of repercussions. And not just from something as minute as rejection. He was her small corral of protection. The one man she could flirt with who would demand nothing in return. The one man she knew would never hurt her. Ever. Her own little fishbowl, partitioning her from the dangers of the real world like a goldfish was from the ocean. Dangers that had found her more than once and left her broken.

  She said, “I heard Decoy go into the wall. You didn’t have to do that.”

  He glanced away, embarrassed. “Well, he didn’t have to say that. Sorry you heard.”

  She’d come back from getting him a set of board shorts and a one-piece for herself and had moved toward the bathroom to see how it fit with the harness. When she’d drawn abreast of the door, she’d heard Decoy in the other room of the suite say to someone she couldn’t see, “I don’t really give a shit if we get in at all. I just want to see that body in a bikini.”

  She’d bristled, about to burst in and give him a piece of her mind when she’d heard a thump against the wall, then Pike saying, “She’s about to risk her life, you fuck. I’ve lived with the jokes before, but I won’t hear them again.”

  Her hand over the doorknob, she’d waited. She heard some strangled breathing, then a voice she recognized as Blood’s say, “Pike. Enough. You’re going to choke him out.” Having seen Pike work, she knew the scene without needing to enter.

  She’d moved back to the bathroom of the suite, but not before hearing Pike say, “No more jokes. Ever.”

  Afterward Decoy was exceedingly courteous. Along with everyone else on the team. She valued it, even though she knew what Decoy had said was exactly that: a joke. He didn’t mean any harm and thought it was funny. It just wasn’t funny to her.

  She patted Pike’s knee and backed up. “Don’t be sorry. I know where I stand, and I appreciate it.”

  The words made him more uncomfortable, if that was possible. “Look, I didn’t do that because I think you need help. . . . I . . . he just pissed me off. . . . You do just fine by yourself.”

  She smiled again, liking the fact that he was embarrassed about stepping in. Liking that he thought she would be angry at him for defending her.

  She came forward again and squeezed his hands. “You have your moments, but that wasn’t one of them.”

  He gave her an awkward smile, clearly afraid to open his mouth.

  The obese Greeks stood up, crawling out of the hot tub like a couple of crabs and leaving them alone.

  He waited until they were out of earshot, then said, “You ready to do this? It’s a long way down.”

  She said, “Yeah. Way to change the subject. He’s still in his room, so no chance of leaving any time soon.”

  His face clouded over. “Come on. You’re about to launch out two hundred meters in the air. Sorry about the mission focus.”

  She smiled again. “Your buttons are so easy to push. I was teasing. Yeah, I’m ready. This’ll be easy, although I’m glad you’re on belay. I didn’t want to say it in the room, but I wouldn’t do this otherwise.”

  He said, “I know. Trust me, I know. Might be your mistake. Knuckles has a lot more experience in the Hollywood rig than I do. The Taskforce started using it after I left the first time.”

  “How hard could it be? I mean, it’s just a cable and a descender. If it can hold Arnold Schwarzenegger for a stunt, it’ll hold me. All you have to do is give me slack.”

  He turned and flicked the descender they’d emplaced earlier, the running end of the thin steel cable coiled next to the bushes around the hot tub. It was barely noticeable in the darkness. A small piece of gear that could have been mistaken for window-cleaning equipment.

  “This shit is made to be hidden from showing up on-screen. It’s not made for operations. Something that allows an actor to hang from a ledge without danger. Not something that allows an operator to perform. I don’t like it.”

  She said, “I trust it. That cable can hold a car. The only thing that will make it fail is if you let it run free. And I know you won’t do that. Not if you want to sit in a hot tub with me when I’m not wearing a harness.”

  She saw the emotions flit across his face and realized too late the double entendre that had unintentionally escaped. His mouth opened and closed, saying nothing. Before the silence could grow uncomfortable, they were saved by their earpieces chirping.

  “Exit from the room. I say again, exit from the room.”

  She felt the adrenaline rise and said the word he always did, trying for his usual confidence.

  “Showtime.”

  29

  Jennifer glanced left and right while Pike prepared the descender.

  He said, “Security, give me a readout. We clear?”

  “West clear.”

  “North clear.”

  “East red, I say again, east red.”

  Which meant the side with the observation deck and the party. The south side of the SkyPark, where Jennifer was going to descend, faced the South China Sea, so there was little chance anyone would witness her actions from the ground.

  Recognizing the voice, Pike said, “Whatcha got, Knuckles?”

  “Nothing big. Man and woman doing some heavy petting in the shadows. I can’t tell if they’re just looking for privacy or going to continue up to the infinity pool.”

  “We got a couple of seconds?”

  “Yeah. Looks that way. Just don’t let them see you controlling the descent if they decide to move.”

  Jennifer was clipping the shoulder harnesses in place and seating the central plate when Pike said, “You willing to pull a Dar? I don’t think I’ll have the time to walk you all the way down.”

  Jennifer knew Pike was referring to Dar Robinson, the stuntman who’d perfected what they called the “Hollywood rig,” using it for high-level falls in order to allow a top camera to film the shot without worrying about an airbag being in the scene from the ground. The difference was he would free-fall for upwards of a thousand feet before being slowed, whereas she had planned on a gentle slide down the side of the building. “Pulling a Dar” meant she’d simply jump, falling unassisted to the top edge of the tower, then get braked to a halt. Hopefully.

  Pike said, “Or we can wait until Knuckles says it’s clear. I’m just afraid of losing our window. The general might return soon. With a Dar we cut our time in half.”

  She snapped the harness closed and cinched the barrel nut on the carabiner holding the chest plate. It can’t be more than forty feet. Not that far.

  She said, “Yeah. I can do that. Just don’t let me go beyond the curve. There’s no way I can climb up this cable.”

  “I won’t. I set it for thirty feet. It’ll be like a bungee jump.”

  He helped her out of the hot tub, laughing at the Vibram FiveFingers shoes on her feet.

  “What? You want me to do this barefooted?”

  He clipped in the cable, ensuring it was seated to the plate at her front. “No, no. If you’re going to pull a circus stunt, might as well look like a clown.”

  She punched him in the arm for the comment. He ignored her, now all business. He tested the lead of the cable a third time, then proceeded to go over her harness from head to waist, just like a jumpmaster prior to a parachute operation. Satisfied, he glanced over the side and keyed his Bluetooth. “We’re ready to execute. Status?”

  “West still good.”

  “North the same.”

  “Still got the cupid couple in the east, but you’re good. They definitely aren’t going to focus on anything but body parts.”

  Jennifer climbed over the railing and stared down into the black night, the ships in the harbor blinking like stars far away. Pike held up the PVAC straps, and she slid her arms through, cinching yet another harness around her shoulders and groin. Last, after seating her hands into the suction devices and checking to ensure the hoses wouldn’t snag, she strapped on a large butt pack, swiveling it to her front.


  She turned and faced Pike, trying to project confidence but feeling a nagging fear eroding into her like a river into sand. Pike checked the descender one more time, ensuring the cable would feed without snagging and the length was set correctly, then stood up.

  He held out his fist for a bump, surprising her. He’d never done that before. She wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or an indicator of how little faith he had in this mission. She rapped his knuckles and he said, “I spent so much time on the method of infil I forgot to ask, you have any questions about the Third Eye?”

  “Nope. That’s the easiest part of this thing.”

  He leaned over once more, then said, “Well, you’re wasting time then.”

  She nodded, closed her eyes, and rocked forward, then backward, holding the railing and chanting in her mind.

  One . . . two . . . three!

  She pushed off and immediately felt the sickening drop in her stomach. She accelerated, first feeling still air, then a hurricane force ripping at her ponytail, reminding her of high dives in her youth, the fluttering of the cable sounding like a whip in front of her face. She waited for an eternity, past one high dive in her mind, then two, then three, and knew with sickening certainty the system had failed.

  An involuntary scream tried to escape as her eyes snapped open. She allowed a low-pitched growl and snapped her hands on the cable in a desperate attempt to alter her fate. Then she felt a jerk in her groin, and she slowed quickly to zero.

  She got her bearings and realized she was staring into the South China Sea; her back was to the wall, and she was swinging toward it.

  She rotated around but only got two-thirds of the way before colliding into the wall with her shoulder. She bounced and settled. She did nothing for a second or two, simply hanging and taking deep breaths.

  She heard, “Jennifer, you okay? Cable’s stopped.”