Flight of Shadows: A Novel

by Brouwer, Sigmund

“We had a camera in the room. Avery’s already posted the conversation op-site.”

  “Say I’d rather save some time and just get your impression of what happened,” Pierce said mildly. He was team leader, and he liked getting different perspectives. Otherwise it wasn’t a team.

  “The skinny kid—”

  “Theo,” Pierce corrected.

  “Skinny kid seemed suspicious,” she said, making a point that he couldn’t correct her. “Kid strikes me as some kind of idiot savant. Fast talker, eyes darting, short attention span. But not stupid. He’s got to know this is about Caitlyn. But Avery gave him enough of a song and dance about informers that it might work.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Probably not. But the skinny kid and the big one.” She stopped, shook her head. “The other one, Billy, just so you don’t need to interrupt… They took off from the hospital as soon as Billy woke up. About five minutes after Avery left them unattended. Tracking device has them going outside the city walls. You’ll find a link at the op-site that will give you a real-time location whenever you want.”

  “Fine. Any guesses as to why they came here?”

  “Caitlyn’s here.”

  “And what does that tell you?” Pierce asked.

  “Does getting this right help me to the next pay grade at NI?”

  “People who work for me get stained by my reputation,” Pierce said. “Jeremy is our token ladder climber, but I took him on to make Wilson happy. You I picked because I figured you didn’t care a lot about rules. Balances Jeremy out.”

  “What if I just like power?” She studied him for several long moments, letting the tension build. She crossed her legs and leaned back.

  “Ever seen an Illegal who didn’t know the third rail holds live current?” Pierce said.

  “Too many times.”

  “That should give you an idea what happens to people who don’t understand all the implications of power.”

  “And what if I understand? Completely.” She smiled at Pierce, letting more tension build.

  The day before, he wouldn’t have read anything into it. Now, after Wilson’s warning, it was different.

  “Billy and Theo are here because they knew Caitlyn would be here,” she said, as if deliberately popping the moment to prove she had control of the room. “They’re in contact with her somehow. Or she told them ahead of time. Either way, she still wants them in her life. So until we find her, we make sure to keep them under observation. Tracking device has it covered.”

  “Was finding Caitlyn last night related to what happened with Billy and Theo?”

  “Can’t be,” she answered. “Coincidence. You ready to tell me about the wings?” When the Enforcers used the word, it had triggered software that was monitoring all Enforcer communications and had alerted them to Caitlyn’s location.

  “Wings? You’d have to be at the next pay grade.”

  “You want us to find her, but you won’t tell us anything about her. Fine. If I were you, I’d be wondering why she’s here in DC and not somewhere else.”

  “Been wondering.” Pierce grinned. He liked her attitude. And the implied danger that came with the prospect of getting past the rebel ice princess thing.

  She leveled her straight-faced gaze at him. “Last night, just before we tried to take her from the Enforcers. The stuff Jeremy said. It’s not true.”

  “I know,” Pierce said. “He’s not gay. It’s obvious he’s interested in you. Just keep it away from work.”

  “Not that. The part where he said I’m hot for you. If you’re not going to bring it up, I think I should. Just to clear the air.”

  “Consider it cleared,” Pierce said. “He was messing with you, knowing it would be there for me to hear.”

  “I don’t think you understand.” She was deadpan. “The part that’s not true is the thing about you being too old for me.”

  Pierce didn’t look away from her expressionless face. Last thing he wanted to show was a reaction of his own.

  “Well,” he said. Just as deadpan. “That really clears the air, doesn’t it?”

  In the silence that followed, she let the tension build again. So quiet that he heard her vidphone buzz. She’d left it on the armrest of the couch. Now she picked it up and read the message.

  “It’s Jeremy,” she said. “Things are about to get interesting.”

  Pierce remained silent.

  “The crip has trapped the Illegal who took away the girl. Might be a good time to link up to the video.”

  Pierce turned in his chair. Tapped the keyboard. Pulled up the NI site in place for this op and clicked on the link.

  The video came from a wide-angle lens that gave a fishbowl look to footage. Holly moved in behind the chair and looked over his shoulder at the screen.

  The Illegal was there, looking straight ahead. And speaking to the guy in the wheelchair.

  “She’s here. All you need to do is look straight up.”

  NINETEEN

  Then I suggest you close your eyes. Caitlyn.”

  Barely maintaining her outstretched iron cross between the walls near the ceiling, Caitlyn tensed. Had she understood Razor correctly? Or was she wrong, and he was going to give her up?

  “Hold him good,” Melvin told Jimmy. “I don’t trust him.”

  Only then did Melvin look up from his wheelchair. Directly into Caitlyn’s eyes.

  Time paused. His mouth slackened with shock.

  Caitlyn had no choice now. She closed her eyes and dropped.

  She landed on Jimmy’s broad shoulders and desperately tried to wrap her arms around his neck. She bounced against him and ended up halfway down his back, hugging at his windpipe.

  Caitlyn kept her eyes closed and squeezed Jimmy’s neck as hard as she could manage. He turned and tried slamming her into the wall. But there wasn’t room to get momentum to shake her loose.

  Eyes still closed, Caitlyn fought to keep her burning arms wrapped in place. She pulled herself up and put her face into his head. Her lips felt his ear, and she bit hard, feeling her teeth go through.

  Jimmy yelped.

  “Jimmy, Jimmy!” Melvin shouted. “Don’t let go of Razor!”

  Too late. Jimmy’s instincts had taken over, and he reached up to pull her arms free. He found Caitlyn’s head with one hand and closed his fingers over her face. His other hand tore her arm away from his neck with as little effort as pulling off a scarf.

  “Jimmy, close your eyes!” Melvin screamed. He was finally coming to the conclusion that had guided Caitlyn. He must have remembered the vid of their escape from the police.

  A tremendous, searing white flash came through Caitlyn’s closed eyelids a split second later. Just like the night before.

  Jimmy squealed with the pain of his blinded eyes. He let go of his grip on Caitlyn, and as his massive arms went to his face, she fell away, landing at an angle but managing to keep her balance.

  “Outside!” Razor shouted at Caitlyn.

  With his knife, Melvin slashed at her upper arm as she swung by. There was a flash of pain. She pushed past the wheelchair, taking the two steps to the open door and the hallway.

  Escape. Down the short corridor.

  From the night before, she knew the next door led outside to an alley at the rear of an office tower. On the other side of the door was a security pad, where Razor had touched his fingertips to a scanner to let them in.

  She flung it open, expecting Razor to be right behind her. Fleeing.

  The first shock was three men, standing guard, backs to her, staring at the alley. They whirled, but she reacted first and slammed the door shut again, hoping it locked.

  The second shock was the emptiness of the hallway. Razor wasn’t behind her.

  She darted back to the open door that led into his hideout. A quick glance showed what had happened.

  Jimmy, face still contorted in agony, had blindly managed to get hold of Razor’s left bicep. Razor was throwing futile punches, with Jimmy
holding Razor at arm’s length. Melvin had moved in as close as his wheelchair would allow. He slashed out with his knife at Razor’s abdomen.

  Caitlyn grabbed Melvin’s wheelchair handles. She lifted them high, flipping Melvin into a pile on the floor. His knife skidded across the floor when he opened his hands to protect himself against the fall.

  “I’m a crip!” Melvin shouted. “You can’t do that.”

  She threw the empty wheelchair into the hallway, where pounding came from the outside door down the hall.

  “Jimmy! Jimmy!” Melvin screeched. Not fear. Rage.

  Caitlyn grabbed Melvin’s ankles and yanked him a few feet away from Jimmy, almost into the hallway. Then she knelt and wrapped her fingers around his neck. In close, she could see little white specks clinging to his hair. The nits of lice.

  She gritted her teeth and sucked in air, fighting her revulsion. At the lice, but also at what she had to do next—attack a cripple. But the man was smart. Smart enough to have closed his eyes before Razor’s flash burst.

  She began to squeeze her fingers around his larynx.

  “Tell Jimmy to drop him,” Caitlyn said. “I’ve got nothing to lose here.”

  “You won’t kill Melvin,” Melvin croaked.

  “Ask the man whose belly I put a knife in last night?”

  “That was you?”

  Caitlyn responded by tightening so hard that Melvin gagged. She eased off, just enough to let him speak.

  “Jimmy!” Now Melvin’s strained voice sounded the same as Razor’s after Jimmy’s blows. “Let him go!”

  As if lashed by a whip, Jimmy dropped Razor.

  “Melvin?” Jimmy was totally blind, cocking his head to Melvin’s voice.

  “Find me,” Melvin said. “Down here. Grab the girl!”

  Razor was already leaping forward, pushing Caitlyn to the hallway.

  Melvin was partly in the doorway. Caitlyn was clear now. Razor shoved Melvin deeper into the room, where Jimmy tripped over the man and tumbled toward them with the ponderous weight of a falling tree, hands outstretched.

  Razor managed to slam the door shut. But not completely.

  A tremendous muffled scream reached them from inside.

  Caitlyn pointed at three fingertips extruding from the door frame, just above the floor.

  “Can’t do it,” Razor said. “Can’t leave him like that.”

  He popped open the door and, as the fingers disappeared, slammed it again, as if expecting that Jimmy would try to charge through.

  Razor slid the bolt in place. Jimmy thumped the door from the inside, howling in rage and pain. To Caitlyn, the hinges appeared to flinch.

  “Your arm,” Razor said, pointing.

  She looked at it. In the adrenaline rush of the previous minute, she had not felt the pain. Blood dripped from her left elbow, from a slash wound halfway to her shoulder.

  Banging from the outside door drew their attention.

  “Melvin’s men?” Razor asked.

  “No,” Caitlyn said. “Suits. Like last night. Three of them.”

  “Crap,” Razor said. “They’ve probably got the building surrounded.”

  Blood droplets hit the floor from her elbow.

  “No place to run outside,” Razor said. He pointed at the splatters on the floor. “And that will give them a trail to follow.”

  He reached for her arm. Instinctively, she pulled away. Nobody touched her. Ever. She was a freak.

  “Come on,” he snapped. “Don’t be stupid. If you had any idea how much I hated blood…”

  He reached again, and she let him examine it, aware that her skin was not like other women’s.

  “Pretty deep,” he said, pulling off his outer shirt, leaving him in a black undershirt. He looked at the blood on his fingers, swallowing a look of distaste.

  He folded the shirt once, then twice. He applied it like a pad to her arm. “Hold that in place.”

  “What about you?” she said, looking at his belly, where the black T-shirt was seeping blood.

  “Crap,” he repeated. He pulled up the T-shirt. With his fingers bloody from Caitlyn’s wound, he probed the shallow slash, wincing. Not perhaps in pain, but revulsion, marked by the tone of his voice. “Blood.”

  He tucked the T-shirt back into place. “It won’t leave a trail. Now let’s go.”

  He jogged down the hallway away from the banging of the outer door. He stopped and turned. Caitlyn had not moved.

  “Are you insane? You still not convinced that chances are better with me?”

  He stretched out his arm, and Caitlyn ran to him.

  TWENTY

  Pierce was watching the video for the second time. He didn’t want to like the kid but couldn’t shake off a degree of reluctant admiration for the kid’s nonchalance and cockiness.

  First impressions. “Pierce whoever you are, better luck next time. That girlfriend of yours. Hot looking. Slow though. Might want to think about that.”

  Pierce had reviewed that a couple of times too, the footage from the monitor of the Enforcer car the night before. The kid should have been running, but took a few seconds to deliver the shot, screening his face with his fingers, but leaving his grin obvious below them.

  That had been the night before. This morning was different. The kid hadn’t known about a camera in place in the wheelchair. Hadn’t been screening his face.

  First time Pierce had seen this footage, it had been live, with Holly behind him. But now he’d made operational calls for agents to swarm the inside of the building, agreeing that Holly should go help. She would arrange logistics with Enforcers since NI didn’t have to justify or explain any demands they made on local law.

  So he was alone in the hotel suite to go over the footage again, watching for any small thing he had missed the first time. It had some grain to it because of the low lighting, and the fishbowl distortion of the wide-angle lens didn’t help either. It showed a long, narrow, nearly bare room. Razor—the name Melvin had called the Illegal—was holding himself in pain, face squeezed tight after taking a blow from Melvin’s bodyguard, someone named Jimmy. Flowers were scattered on the floor.

  But even distorted, the footage would be enough for face recognition software to compensate, especially with a couple frames that showed Razor’s face from different angles. Only a matter of minutes had passed since the actual live footage, but agency techies were already working on it. If Razor was anywhere in the system, he would be identified within the hour.

  “Hold him good,” Melvin now said on the screen, directing his thug. “I don’t trust him.”

  Melvin couldn’t know, of course, that there was another danger. Directly above. First run-through, Pierce had flinched at the suddenness of what happened next. Even prepared this time, he blinked as a dark figure dropped without warning onto Jimmy’s shoulders. Somehow she’d been up on the ceiling.

  Caitlyn.

  A couple seconds of struggle, with Jimmy trying to slam Caitlyn against the wall without losing his hold on Razor. Then her mouth at the side of Jimmy’s head.

  Pierce slowed the footage. Saw what he’d missed the first time that made the thug squeal. She was biting through his ear. Pierce grinned in admiration.

  “Jimmy, Jimmy! Don’t let go of Razor!”

  Jimmy was focused on the pain, though, and pulled Caitlyn off him like he was removing a shirt.

  “Jimmy, close your eyes!”

  Pierce stopped the footage. And stared at the frozen image of Razor pulling away from Jimmy. Pierce knew what was coming next. Another flashball. But how had Melvin guessed in the heat of the action?

  Then Pierce understood. Melvin had seen the police footage the night before and had anticipated Razor’s flashbomb. Pierce made a note to himself not to underestimate Melvin’s intelligence.

  Pierce advanced it superslow, watched as Razor reached into a sleeve and threw out a small round object that burst into supernova whiteness.

  Another note to himself. Try to find out where
Razor could get something this sophisticated. Not many Illegals—correct that—no Illegals had those kinds of resources.

  “Outside!” Razor shouted.

  Pierce watched closely, trying to confirm what he’d guessed as he watched the footage the first time. Yes. Melvin had swiped at her with a knife. Yes, he’d made contact. There was blood.

  Then Caitlyn was out the door.

  Jimmy still had Razor, by the bicep, with Razor throwing rabbit punches that had no effect. Melvin had moved in close to slash at Razor’s belly with the knife he’d used on Caitlyn.

  She appeared again. Loomed in close to the wheelchair. And the footage went sideways as she spilled Melvin and flung the wheelchair over.

  It was down to audio now, with only shoes showing in the frame.

  “I’m a crip! You can’t do that.”

  More blurry footage, the wheelchair spinning into the hallway. The spy cam was at an angle, enough to show only the doorway and Melvin’s useless legs partway in the hall. Audio picked up some drumlike pounding in the background.

  “Jimmy! Jimmy!”

  Slight pause.

  “Tell Jimmy to drop him.” Caitlyn. “I’ve got nothing to lose here.”

  “You won’t kill me.”

  “Ask the man whose belly I put a knife in last night.”

  Caitlyn had been forced to defend herself the night before. Wouldn’t hurt to have agents look into it.

  “That was you?”

  And Melvin knew about it. He’d make sure to interview Melvin later, find out more.

  “Jimmy!” Melvin sounded like Caitlyn was throttling him. “Let him go!”

  “Melvin?”

  “Find me. Down here. Grab the girl!”

  Then Razor and Caitlyn were back in the frame, Razor pushing Caitlyn out.

  Razor shoved Melvin deeper into the room. There was a flash of Jimmy’s hands as the big man fell toward the hallway and Razor slammed the door. Followed by screams.

  Pierce was using his computer to run the footage. With a few flicks of his keyboard, he zoomed in. Saw fingers protruding from the closed door. Winced.

  “Can’t leave him like that.” On the screen, Razor popped open the door.