DIRTY BLOND
Page 21
I staggered up the last half-flight and there was an elevator waiting for me. Jumping in, I punched 35. I texted Stillwater. He said he was on 25.
I quickly jabbed 26.
When the door opened, Stillwater, barely breathing hard, stepped in. He said, “Sakura says she had independent security on the top floor and Ronin killed it, too.”
“That’s just great. Do we have a plan?”
“Try not to get caught in any crossfire.”
“Good plan.”
“And remember that we’ve got two professional killers up there, both apparently trained by intelligence services.”
“And you.”
“Well, yeah.”
“Why am I going up here?”
He grinned. “Protect and serve, baby. Protect and serve.”
“Fucking career choice.”
The elevator stopped at 35 and the doors slid open. We hung back on either side for a moment. Stillwater crouched down to peer around the corner.
“Clear.”
We stepped out, guns raised.
“Plan?” I said. “For real this time?”
And then all the lights went out.
78
Derek
Derek spun sideways, caught Sandy and pressed her against the wall. In her ear he whispered, “Don’t use your phone. It’ll light up.”
There were no windows in this hallway, but it looked like there were in a connecting hallway, so it wasn’t pitch black. But it was very dim and shadowed.
She gave his wrist a tap to let him know she understood. “Plan?” she whispered.
“We’ll move forward. Slowly. Don’t shoot me.”
“No promises.”
They edged away from the wall about a foot, moving very, very slowly toward the main doorway to Makatashi’s offices and suite.
They didn’t know how many ways there were into Makatashi’s area. When they had spoken with him before, they had come in through this entrance. His receptionist’s office was the gateway to his inner sanctum. Derek and Sandy both remembered that there had been several visible doors in his spacious office. One probably led to a bathroom suite. Another probably led to his apartment.
But were there others?
Did he have a way into his apartment that didn’t go through the office?
The double doors to his receptionist’s office were smoked glass. There were no lights visible. Derek pointed to himself, and then to the door on the left. He mimed pulling it open.
Sandy crouched, gun up, nodding, showing she was ready to go through the door, indicating she would go right. Derek nodded.
He pulled the door open. Sandy darted through, immediately rushing to the right, out of sight.
Derek followed her in, spinning to the left in a crouch, dropping to one knee, gun panning the receptionist’s office.
Sandy was pressed to the wall on the other side of the doors.
He tapped his chest, and pointed to the doorway that led to another room. She nodded. He pointed at her, and raised his hand flat. Stay there while I check the room.
Sandy nodded in understanding.
Derek quickly stepped toward the open door, peered around the corner before jerking back.
The office was extremely dark, but some light seeped in through the smoked-glass doors. This room, unfortunately, was far worse.
Well, what the hell?
Squinting his eyes, he took out his phone, lunging low into the room, clicking on the flashlight app as he did.
It was a combination storage, office equipment room. There was a professional photocopy machine and a large color printer. Almost an anachronism, there was a digital fax machine.
The rest of the room was shelves filled with office supplies.
He stepped back into the main reception room. Sandy cocked her head.
An explosion ripped through the air.
79
Anne Sakura
The lights went out. Sakura dropped into a crouch, gun up, back to the wall.
Makatashi strode over to his desk and jabbed at a console. “Shit,” he swore in Japanese. That was notable. In the weeks she’d been working with him, she had never heard the older man say a single curse word.
“What?”
“This is a corner office. But the blinds are internal and mechanical. We can’t open them without electricity.”
That was kind of sad, Sakura thought.
Makatashi’s flashlight app lit a swath across the room.
“Get away from that thing,” she snapped. “If he comes in the room—“
Makatashi propped the phone on his desk. He backed away to the opposite side of the room from her, in the shadows.
They waited in silence.
She thought there were quiet sounds from Makatashi’s administrative assistant’s office, and shifted so her gun was aimed toward that door. Makatashi shook his head and pointed past her, toward the short corridor that led to his private quarters.
She ignored him. There were definitely sounds coming from the office.
She felt more than saw an object fly out of the corridor and hit the ground. “Down!” she screamed at Makatashi, who was too far away for her to do anything.
Simultaneously she dived to the ground, rolling behind a leather sofa, doubting it would help much if it was a grenade.
The explosion was loud, the flash bright, even with her eyes closed. She thought, flashbang!, and rolled to her feet, firing a round down the corridor toward where she assumed Ronin was preparing to spring.
“Stay down!” she shouted at Makatashi as she saw him rise to his feet.
She edged toward the corridor.
The office door burst open. Diversion! she thought, spinning toward it.
A dark, but familiar figure dived into the room, sliding on the floor.
“Stillwater,” she said, recognizing him. “Ronin’s in the apartment.”
The lieutenant stepped in, angling to the side of the door, gun in a ready position. She said, “Down that hallway?”
Derek scrambled to his feet and rushed over to Makatashi. “Can you hear me?” he asked.
With a slight nod, Makatashi said, “Some.”
“Are there other entrances to your apartment?”
Anne Sakura said, “One at the far side off a private elevator. Another that goes to the roof and the helicopter pad.”
Lieutenant Beach said, “Somebody needs to stay with Mr. Makatashi. Since that’s your job, Sakura, you do it.”
She was about to protest when another flashbang flew into the room. Hoping it was indeed a flashbang, Sakura rushed across the room to Makatashi. Derek had flung the man to the ground, throwing himself over the older man.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Beach spring down the corridor. Spinning, she chased after the woman.
She heard Stillwater say to Makatashi, “Okay, ladies first. Let’s get you the hell out of here.”
80
Sandy
I raced down the corridor, expecting the Ronin to be heading my way. That would make sense. He wasn’t tossing percussion grenades into Makatashi’s office to get us to come after him—he wanted everyone softened up before he came in.
So I decided to take the fight to him.
It was a short corridor. At the end was an open door. I dived through into a roll, coming up in a crouch, gun drawn.
I was in a large living area. Unlike the offices, it was flooded with light from a wall of windows overlooking the city.
The Ronin stood at the far end of the room, gun in one hand, a black leather satchel over one shoulder, another percussion grenade in his left hand.
We fired at the same time.
I felt a bullet pluck at my coat. “Hey! This is a Balmain! Do you know how much this cost?”
I don’t think he did. Or cared.
My
bullet hit his satchel, and he was already on the move, but so was I. We were both shifting to our right, still firing.
Then Sakura burst through the doorway, firing at Ronin. One of her shots hit his shoulder. He staggered back, fired at her, turned and disappeared into the next room.
Sakura and I chased after him.
81
Derek
Dammit, he thought. Was Sandy out of her mind?
Makatashi struggled beneath his weight.
Rolling off him, Derek said, “Well, ladies first. Let’s get you out of here.”
The older man climbed to his feet. “I’m not running away.”
“You’ve got three professionals here. Let us do our jobs!”
Makatashi brushed off his suitcoat and headed toward the corridor. Derek jumped to his feet and grabbed his arm. “You’re the target! Let’s get you out of—“
The executive was fast. Fast for his age, fast for anyone. He spun, fist snapping out.
Derek automatically shifted, deflecting the punch, which was followed by another, another, and a short snapping kick. Derek deflected or dodged each strike, but Makatashi was good. Very good.
“Focus, goddammit!” Derek said, stepping back out of range. “I’m not the enemy here.”
“Then come with me.”
Makatashi turned back, heading into the hallway to his apartment.
“Shit,” Derek said. For a brief second he contemplated knocking him to the ground and dragging him to safety, but it would be harder than it sounded. Instead, he pushed past the executive. “At least let the guy with the gun go first.” Under his breath he muttered, “Asshole.”
Makatashi laughed. “You’ll take a bullet for me, Agent Stillwater?”
“Let’s not test that out, okay?”
They moved quickly down the hallway into the suite. There was a splotch of blood on the floor and wall. Derek hoped it was Ronin, not Sandy. Or even Sakura.
Makatashi said, “There are a couple bullet holes in the wall.”
“Where would they go?”
“There’s an exit at the back. It goes to a private elevator. There’s also a staircase that goes to the roof.”
“Roof, then. Because of the—”
Lights clicked on.
“Okay, never mind,” Derek said. They rushed forward, Makatashi pointing the way.
On the other side of a compact kitchen, a door opened into a small entryway. There was a polished oak elevator door and a more utilitarian steel door.
Makatashi reached for the steel door, but Derek brushed past him. “You suicidal or something? I don’t suppose you’d get in the elevator and go down and wait with security?”
“No.”
“No, of course not. I hope Sakura charged you a ton.” He pointed. “Stand right there until I say it’s ok.”
He pushed the door open, crouching low. Nothing. Just a flight of concrete steps that doubled back on itself—about a dozen steps up, a small landing, then another flight.
“Okay.” Derek took the steps up, twisting around to make sure no one was waiting just up the stairs to blow his head off.
Nothing.
“Same routine to the top. Does this open into some sort of structure?”
“Yes. It also houses the elevator equipment.”
“And on the roof?”
“The perimeter is a roof with mechanicals … power plant, water, elevator housing, ventilation, air conditioning. Otherwise most of the roof is a helicopter pad. But it’s elevated above the mechanicals, so it’s, mmmm, perhaps ten feet above the main level, so it’s completely clear from the mechanicals.”
“Let’s go.”
Derek led the way up the flight of steps. The door at the top was shut. He took the knob, turned it, and slowly inched the door open. Peering out, he saw only a dark room barely illuminated by a small window and the crack beneath an outer door.
“Okay. Looks clear.” He pushed the door partway open and slipped through into the utility room, which was filled with large aluminum conduits, and the motor and gearing for Makatashi’s private elevator.
Makatashi headed for the exterior door, but Derek pushed past him. “By the numbers, please.”
Makatashi nodded. Derek again edged the door open. A shaft of very bright morning light split the darkness. Peeking out, he saw an expanse of concrete filled with a maze of industrial air conditioning vents, more conduits, more small structures like the one they were currently in. Looming above it was the elevator pad, probably twice the size of a tennis court. It was built on a matrix of steel beams and supports.
“What do you see?” Makatashi asked.
“A nightmare,” Derek said. “How many exits are there up here?”
“Four.”
“Great. And about a million places to hide or wait to ambush.”
And what was Ronin’s endgame? Derek wondered. Everything he had done so far showed a tremendous amount of research and planning. He found it hard to believe Ronin would have run to the roof without some plan for getting out of there and disappearing.
Derek took a deep breath, checked his gun, and said, “Let’s rock.” He pushed through the door in a crouch.
82
Sandy
Sakura and I ran after Ronin. I didn’t like it. Every time we went through a door, I was afraid he was just on the other side, waiting. But he didn’t. He kept moving. Fast.
He wore a dark suit and a bag over one shoulder. I hoped he didn’t have any real grenades in the bag.
Up the stairs out onto the roof.
Sakura, gun in hand, crouched behind a cement pillar, studying the roof area.
“Not good,” she whispered.
I totally agreed with her.
“I’ll go right,” Sakura said. “You go left. Don’t shoot me.”
I nodded. She headed to the right.
I moved much more slowly. It was a maze. Not only was the helicopter pad on supports that reminded me vaguely of being under the bleachers at a high school stadium, but the mechanical infrastructure was a web of conduits, metal boxes, cables, and pathways that ranged from two or three feet wide to eight or ten feet.
I would come up to each pathway, crouch down, peek around, then have to decide whether to continue around the perimeter or explore one of the pathways. I decided to stick with the perimeter. At least here, Ronin wasn’t going to ambush me from over the two-foot ledge that separated me from a thirty-five-story drop. The view was great, with a stiff breeze blowing out of the west.
I had worked my way about halfway around the perimeter when the pop-pop-pop of gunfire drifted across the building. Shit.
Wherever they were, it wasn’t near me.
Looking at the helicopter pad, I decided, what the hell?
Putting my gun temporarily in my holster, I clambered up the metal scaffolding and rolled over the top onto the helipad. It was painted a bright white with a red circle. On each end an orange windsock on a pole billowed in the breeze.
Taking my gun back out, checking the cartridge and the safety, I jogged toward the far side of the pad.
I was halfway across when out of the corner of my eye I saw a head peek over the edge. I dived to the surface of the helipad, gun aimed at the spot.
Only this time he hoisted himself up over the edge of the helipad. It was Stillwater. He crouched, reached over the edge, and a second later, helped Makatashi up onto the helipad.
They approached me. In a low voice, Stillwater said, “What’s going on?”
“Why the hell is he with you?”
“Because he won’t listen to me.”
Makatashi gave me a stiff smile.
“You don’t belong up here. We can’t protect you and take down this guy at the same time.”
“I don’t want him killed. I want to know who hired him.”
“Take him—“
And there were mechanical sounds, as the elevator works went into action. Backup was coming.
Another gunshot, this time with a high-pitched female scream. I looked at Derek. Before either of us could react, Makatashi ran for metal stairs off to our left.
“Shit,” Stillwater said, sprinting after him.
Makatashi clambered down the stairs, Stillwater right behind him, me at his heels.
Before they hit the bottom, Stillwater jumped in front of him, hissing, “Stay behind me, for god sakes!”
Giving them room so I had a field of view, we crept down the space between the mechanicals and the edge of the building, peering in each work alley. After looking at four, we found Sakura sitting on the ground, back to an air conditioning unit.
Derek and Makatashi rushed to her. I stayed where I was at the edge, so I could see beyond them, and keep an eye to the right and left of where I stood.
Makatashi took off his coat and was pressing it to her side. Derek suddenly looked sharply down the corridor and took off running. I raced after him, sidestepping around Makatashi, who was kneeling in a pool of blood with Sakura.
“Stay with her,” I snapped. Stillwater dodged left and disappeared from sight.
83
Derek
Sakura said, “I hit him … at … least once.”
Makatashi quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket and pressed it against the wound. It was on her left side about six inches below her left breast. Derek was certain a rib or two were broken. The shot was in the stomach, kidney, spleen area and it was bleeding a lot.
He was about to help with the first aid when he heard footsteps close by. Without hesitation, he exploded around the corner.
The Ronin stood there, startled.
“Stop! Freeze!”
Both Derek and Ronin brought up their guns. Both were moving, Derek running toward the assassin, Ronin backpedaling, twisting around the nearest corner.
The bullet the Ronin fired tore a hole through an aluminum conduit near Derek’s head with a sproing! sound.