There goes my talk, June thought, flopping onto the bed. She cuddled a pillow to her chest. It was the one Jack had used during the night, and still had his scent on it. Somehow, it made her miss him even more. Jack was gone, and she wasn’t sure of where or when she would see him again.
This weekend officially sucks.
June thought she heard something from out in the hallway and pushed up onto one elbow in the dark room. Is that the housekeeper? The ventilation system kicked on, a soft whoosh of air flowing through the vents. But there was something else, something in the hallway.
A credible threat? she thought, slipping on a bathrobe. What the hell is a credible threat? A housekeeper making her rounds too early in the afternoon?
She considered the housekeeper for a moment, how she had seen the young woman only once since checking in, but she had clearly been around to clean the rooms and make beds since then. Even the pillows had been changed. But what did she, or even Leopold or Jerome, really know about her?
She blew out a breath, staring at the ceiling. “Shit, June, you’re starting to sound as paranoid as the rest of them,” she said, muttering to herself.
June heard the noise again. It wasn’t coming from inside the room. There was definitely something going on out in the hallway. Maybe a door being opened and closed.
Her mind raced. If the hotel is in lockdown right now, why would the housekeeper be cleaning rooms? Wouldn’t she know about it?
June went to the suite door and peeked out the peephole. No one there. She went back to the bedroom and grabbed some clothes to put on. She looked at the tight dress she had planned on wearing for dinner later that evening. She picked it off the hangar, held it up to the light. Shook her head.
Yeah, that would be smart. Terrorists might attack the building, a bomb might go off, who knows what might happen, and I want to play dress-up. That’s levelheaded thinking.
Hanging the dress back up, June grabbed the closest pieces of clothes and put them on, a pair of sweatpants and a blue halter-neck top, before heading back to the door, her curiosity getting the best of her. She tossed back the security hasp, flipped the dead bolt, and slowly opened the door. Peeking her head out the door, she looked down the hallway in one direction. Empty. She looked in the other direction.
June froze.
A man dressed in a tight black outfit was huddled at the far end of the corridor, inspecting one of the doors. He used a key card to let himself in, taking care to shut the door silently behind him. June pulled her head back into the room and slid the deadbolt back into place.
On her tiptoes, she ran back to the bedroom. She searched through what Jack had left behind, finding the emergency panic phone Leopold had given them the day before. She dialed the number.
A male voice answered. She recognized it right away.
“Leopold, there’s…”
“No names!”
June gritted her teeth. “Shit. This is Chicken Little. Or whoever. But there’s someone on the floor with me.”
Leopold paused. “The housekeeper?”
June struggled to hear him. There was a clattering, rumbling noise in the background.
“No,” she said. “A man dressed up in a black outfit. I just saw him go into one of the rooms.”
“What’d he look like?”
“Middle aged. Male. Wearing a tight black outfit, something like scuba divers wear. I only got a peek.”
“Was he armed?”
“Maybe. Like I said, I only got a peek.”
More noise on the line. “Stay put,” Leopold said. “Lock yourself in the room. Find a place to hide.”
“Where are you?”
“Checking out a lead. We’re down in the basements. Just stay where you are. A Secret Service agent should be with you any second.”
“There’s no way I can get out of here?”
“Not as long as you’re in lockdown.” Leopold hung up.
June swore and tossed the phone down. Composing herself, she checked and double-checked the door locks before retreating to the bathroom. She could feel adrenaline flowing through her system, making her muscles ache for something to do. She took the edge off with a few push-ups. Then a few more.
Years of Krav Maga training had conditioned her body to withstand punishment, but dealing with the physical stuff was the easy part. Mentally, June knew she would drive herself crazy if she stayed put for much longer. There was someone outside, someone who probably meant her harm, and she was supposed to wait in her room to be rescued like some damsel in distress?
She glanced toward the door, feeling her pulse quicken. Not gonna happen.
Chapter 48
LEOPOLD SLIPPED THE cell phone back into his pocket and turned his attention back to the ventilation system. The main unit housing had been removed, exposing the internal circuits. Harper stood behind him with three other agents nearby. The bulky diesel generators were running at load, forcing everybody to shout.
“We have another situation,” Leopold said, turning to Harper. “It looks like Doctor Kato might have company upstairs.”
“Smith hasn’t checked in,” Harper said. “He should be with her by now.”
Leopold swore. “Is Melendez secure?”
She nodded.
“Then get Jerome up there. My radio won’t work through all this concrete. You’ll need to send someone to find him.”
Harper waved one of the agents over. “Lock down the elevators. I don’t want anyone without official clearance getting upstairs. Then go track down Mr. Blake’s associate and go check this out. Find Smith.”
The agent nodded and left the basement.
“I need light over here,” Leopold said.
Another agent approached with a flashlight.
“Anything?” Harper asked.
“This compartment isn’t sealed. I need you to get it open.”
The agent nodded. “Here.” He handed over a screwdriver, fitted with a special head.
Leopold set to work. “You have any idea how sarin gas works?”
The agent shook his head.
“Sarin gas, when it comes into contact with the body, prevents certain neurotransmitters from working. The end result is, a person’s lungs stop working. In high concentrations it’s lethal within a couple of minutes. There’s no way to stop it once it gets into the atmosphere.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience, Blake,” Harper said. “Should I be worried?”
“You should be very worried,” Leopold said. “But not about me.” He removed the steel panel. He froze. “You should be worried about this.”
Harper leaned in. “What the hell?”
“You need to evacuate this hotel now,” said Leopold, getting to his feet. “It looks like your Korean friend was telling the truth.”
Chapter 49
JUNE OPENED THE door carefully, just a crack. She peered through the gap. The hallway was empty. Whoever she had seen prowling the corridor must be still inside one of the rooms. Taking a deep breath, she sprinted for the elevator. Rounding the corner, she nearly tripped over a pile of sand in the middle of the carpet. With no time to process what the hell might be spilled all over the floor, she shoved her key card into the security slot and hit the call button.
Nothing happened. The elevator was locked down.
She ran to the stairwell door and tried to figure out how to get the security bars off. It was a simple enough mechanism, just some pins that needed to be removed before the cross-shaped arrangement collapsed. She set it aside, and gave the door a push.
It didn’t budge. She rammed her hip into it to little effect. She looked up and down the door, swearing under her breath.
I really am locked in this damn place.
June heard the sound of a lock disengaging. The intruder must have finished searching one of the empty rooms, making his way to the next. June ran back to her room as fast as she could and ducked through the door just as a dark figure emerged from one
of the neighboring suites.
She leaned up against the wall, gasping for air. Heart rate through the roof, she tried to calm herself down. She took several slow, deep breaths, and looked around for a weapon to use. She heard a key card shoved into the lock at her door. The handle moved.
He’s here.
It was too late to hide, and the room had been swept for weapons already. There wasn’t so much as a kitchen knife in the whole place. She took refuge in the living room, ducking behind the wall just as her door swung open.
She heard footsteps. The intruder was inside the room, moving slowly. Without gauging his abilities, it would be a mistake to engage him in physical combat this early. And she had no way of knowing what weapons, if any, he was carrying. Any sudden movement, he might panic. If he had a gun, he might fire off a shot. He might get lucky.
She would need to try another tactic.
Ignoring the screaming urge to crawl underneath the sofa, June decided to press the only advantage she had. If she could catch him off guard, maybe he would reveal a weakness. So long as he didn’t shoot her first. Still, better than waiting to get executed.
June composed herself and stepped out into the open.
“Hey,” she said, flatly.
The intruder flinched, spun round to look at her. “Who the hell are you?” He aimed a large pistol at her chest, complete with silencer. He was at least three steps away.
“You first,” June said back. He looked vaguely familiar.
“Nobody you care about.” He glanced around. “Where’s Melendez?”
“Not here.”
“Bullshit.”
“Secret Service discovered a perceived threat, so they moved him to another location.” June tried to smile, but there was a tremble to her lips. “Go look for him somewhere else.”
The intruder shook his head. “Secret Service isn’t providing him a detail yet.”
“His private security team handed him over,” June said, taking a step toward him. “They’ll be back any moment to get me.”
“Nobody’s coming, I’m afraid. Agent Smith had an unfortunate accident. You and I are the only ones up here.”
“Who are you?” she asked, taking another easy half step closer.
“You don’t want to be involved in this. Just tell me where Melendez is.”
“Like I said, not here.” She took in a deep breath, instantly regretting it.
“Then you won’t mind if we check the place together, will you?” He waved the gun toward the living room. “Get your hands up.”
Hands near her ears, she led him through, wondering what the distance was between them. If she got him close enough, and with enough luck, she might be able to do something about the situation.
Jerome had straightened up the living room the evening before, and everything was still in pristine condition. The coffeemaker had finished brewing, but it was too far away to grab the pot. There was nothing else she could imagine using as a weapon unless this guy had a particular sensitivity to sofa cushions. Through a decade of martial arts training, June had learned several methods of disarming a man carrying a gun. But all of them relied on her getting close.
The intruder stopped. “Okay, now show me the bedroom.”
She led him into the bedroom she and Jack had shared. Some of his clothes still hung over a chair, her silk hose and undergarments on the bathroom floor where she left them. June looked at the little red dress on the bed, and, in an odd way, it looked lonely to her.
“Those are men’s clothes,” the man said. “He’s here somewhere.”
“No. Like I said, there was a security breach or alert or whatever it’s called, and they had to leave in a hurry.”
She felt the gun muzzle tap her in the back and she raised her hands again.
“When?” the man asked.
“About an hour ago.”
“You’re lying.” He increased the pressure on her spine.
“Okay, they left just a few minutes ago,” June said. She tried her best to keep her voice steady. She didn’t want to antagonize him, or come off sounding threatening. She wanted him to think she was on his side.
“Those guys rushed in and hauled him off,” she said. “Just like that, our date was over. Right now, I’m kinda pissed off about the whole thing.” She paused. “Why do you want him?”
He ignored her. “Where’d they take him?”
“Hell if I know,” she said. “All I know is that this has to be just about the worst weekend ever. And I’ve had some pretty shitty ones. Are you going to kill me when you don’t find him?”
“I might kill you just to shut you up.” He tapped her with his gun, getting her moving again. “Convince me you’re telling the truth.”
“Check the bathroom. There’s only one bathrobe left now.”
With the pistol in the small of her back, he nudged her toward the bathroom. There was only one more room to search after that, the last room that he would find empty. She knew the conditions of the relationship would change, then. To what, she had no idea.
She walked slowly. When she got back to the kitchenette, she stopped. She faked a reach to the coffeepot with her right hand.
“Hey!”
With her left hand, she swept behind her, knocking the gun’s aim away from her back. Pushing his arm up with hers, she spun in a move she’d practiced hundreds of times. She locked his gun arm under her armpit, made another quarter turn, then locked his other elbow with her free arm from behind.
Now suddenly behind him, she had control over the weapon and his arms. She tried reaching across him to grab it, but he anticipated her. Larger and stronger than June, he overpowered her grip. With a rearward blast of his elbow to her chest, she stumbled back and fell into the wall.
He came at her. Blindly, she lashed out with a kick. It landed hard, connecting with his groin. He bent over, groaning. She started to scramble up. The intruder growled, still clutching his crotch with his free hand. His gun hand raised, the gun quivering, the muzzle aimed in her direction.
“No!” June shouted.
The man got a shot off, but aimed poorly. The bullet slammed through the wall over her head, throwing up a cloud of plaster dust. A second shot splintered the wood of the doorframe. He drew up to full height, steadying his aim.
Before he could fire again, June landed another kick to his hip. The impact knocked them both backward. June landed awkwardly, hitting her head against the wall. She saw stars.
By then, the man was up. He took a third shot at June, grazing the top of her shoulder. She sent him another kick, this time connecting with the gun in his hand. It flew from his grasp, tumbling across the tile floor. June charged forward, using the distraction to body check him. She slammed into his side, feeling the wind knocked out of her. The intruder fell back, hitting his head on the kitchen counter behind him, knocking the coffeemaker to the floor. The glass pot shattered, spilling scalding-hot liquid onto his face.
He screamed in pain, clawing at his skin, and dropped to the tiles.
Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, June stepped forward, grabbed hold of his black outfit, and slammed his head into one of the kitchen cupboards. He stopped screaming, barely conscious. But June wasn’t done.
She took a side step, bent her knee, and slammed her foot deep into his chest. His body bounced against the cupboard, knocking it off his hinges.
The intruder toppled forward onto his face, still breathing, but not getting up for a while. June nudged him with her foot. Nothing. She retrieved the gun, tossed it in a drawer, and checked his body for other weapons. She found an assault knife and a crowbar tucked into his belt. She threw them into the oven and closed the door.
Fetching a sheet from the laundry cupboard, June slipped it under his body and dragged him across the floor and into the bedroom. Muscles straining, she lifted him onto the bed on his side. Checked his breathing.
Hands shaking, June slumped into a chair.
So much for waiting to
be rescued, she thought.
Chapter 50
KANEZAKI HEARD THE announcement through the PA system. They were evacuating the hotel, getting everybody out. The police were on their way, the announcer said. In the meantime, everyone was to make their way calmly to the exit doors. Kanezaki swore and ducked through one of the double doors leading out of the lobby.
He looked up and down the corridor. Plush carpet, beige walls. Some inoffensive pastel-colored paintings hanging at head height, spaced at regular intervals down the hallway. A sign pointing toward the stairs, leading up to the guest rooms. Kanezaki glanced toward the elevators. No doubt they were shut off.
He pulled out his cell phone and then dialed a number.
“Moshi Moshi,” a voice answered.
“Isa, you in position?” Kanezaki said.
“Yeah. Engine still running. What’s going on?”
“They’re calling in the cavalry.”
“Yamada?”
“No sign,” said Kanezaki. “He’s got less than ten minutes to pull this off.”
A paused. “And if he doesn’t?”
“Two ways this goes down. Both end with him dead.”
“You need to get out.”
“I need to find Yamada first.”
“You know what’s going to happen if you get caught,” Isa said.
“Just be ready.” Kanezaki hung up. He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. Turned back to the doors behind him and peered through the glass window. The lobby was crammed full of people, jostling and wrestling each other out of the way. They were headed for the main doors. A porter was holding them open. Two police cruisers were parked outside, a handful of officers setting up a temporary cordon. The few people who had managed to squeeze through were being ushered out of sight, probably to have their IDs checked.
Kanezaki swore again. He needed to find Yamada before the bakayarou slipped out one of the rear exits. His baita girlfriend probably had them all mapped out. Yamada had to be present when the shit hit the fan, had to get noticed. The police were already here, a fortuitous turn of events Kanezaki hadn’t predicted, but it was all for nothing if Yamada escaped.
Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers) Page 19
