She twisted back into the hallway with her firearm ready at a run. The man was down, crawling backward. Blood stained his chest. She fired another shot mid-stride, sidestepped the body, raised her weapon toward the intersection of the hallway and the rear entrance.
Automatic gunfire exploded through the plasterboard wall to her left. At full pace, she dropped to the ground and slid along the polished floor on her knees. A hail of dust and debris showered over her as she bent backward in a limbo position gliding beneath the violence. She lifted her weapon, aimed for a hole where the bullets continued to rip through, and fired until her clip clicked empty.
The automatic gunfire stopped. She ejected the magazine, reached for a new one. None left.
15:40:19
Adam slid himself along the ground. He didn’t notice the pain. His leg didn’t respond to his attempts to move, his arm lay limp over his chest.
“Amber, get to the cellar! Go! Go!”
She clung to him. Grabbed him by the shirt and tried to drag him backward. He was too heavy. He knew.
“Amber. Leave me. Go. Now!”
“Daddy. Come on, Daddy! Please. Please. Daddy.”
He saw them storm through the front shattered window. The front door exploded open. Automatic gunfire erupted in a deafening crisscross.
“Amber, get down!”
He aimed for the men coming through the window, emptied his Beretta. Three of the men went down. Two more aimed toward him, raised their weapons, they rocked back, their bodies cut to pieces. Shirin rushed in front him, firing the automatic machine gun in short bursts.
He saw her turn and launch herself at Amber. They crashed to the ground. She rolled, raised her weapon, and fired as a volley of bullets struck the wall where Amber had been standing a moment before.
15:41:01
Shirin felt the impact to her chest, fell back, kept the machine gun on target and fired. One down. Amber screamed behind her. Two down.
She held the gun steady. Aimed down the hallway toward the shattered front door. No movement.
Amber trembled, crying. Adam limped awkwardly toward them. The echo of close-quarters gunfire faded. Smoke trailed from the end of her machine gun. She listened. Waiting.
Nothing.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
She cocked her head to the side, closed her eyes, and focused on every sound. She motioned to Adam to stop moving.
She raised the weapon, tilted backward, fired over the top of Amber, into the wall behind them, stood and let loose another volley into the wall.
She thrust the short barrel of the machine gun through the shredded plasterboard, aimed for the man and fired another short burst.
Her arm flew sideways. She lost her grip on the machine gun, saw it tumble, and turned toward the living room. One of the gunmen stood there, reloaded a new magazine into the compact machine gun, grunted, and took aim at her.
Gunfire cracked the air. The gunman arched backward and fell. Behind him, a woman stepped forward. She kept the gun aimed toward Shirin.
15:42:55
Lilly struggled to hold the heavy gun steady. Shirin Reyes, the assassin, the killer, the reason for so much death.
All she had to do was squeeze the trigger.
Her hands trembled.
“Lilly.” Adam’s voice broke her focus. “Lilly. She saved our lives. Lilly. Look at me. She saved Amber’s life. Lower the gun.”
She looked at him. He was covered in blood. He was pale. Looked dead. Broken.
Sirens screamed up the gravel driveway. She turned. Local police, ambulance, fire trucks.
She turned back. Shirin Reyes was gone.
Epilogue
“The truth is there, hiding beneath a bed of lies and deception.”
THE BOOK OF SEEKAY
Two days later…
Zelig studied the printout carefully. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. DNA confirms the body was Shirin Reyes.”
He looked over the top of the piece of paper. The scientist didn’t know Shirin Reyes. Not like he did. “Check it again.”
He thrust the report back. “And the dental?”
“Waiting for the results, but my initial analysis suggests they'll be a match.”
“The accelerant used?”
“Looks like alcohol. Should have the official report to you by tomorrow.”
He waited for the man to leave, then dialed Smith’s secure phone.
“Smith. Update.”
“No action.”
“Evidence suggests the body was Shirin Reyes.”
“And you have doubts?”
“The fire destroyed all physical identifiers. I don't like relying on the lab.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Stay on mission. If she’s still alive, she’ll go after Trickle.”
“And if she’s dead?”
“Kill Trickle yourself.”
Three days later...
Walter Crisp soaked neck deep in the steaming hot water of the spa. He glanced at the skinny man to his side and smiled at his obvious discomfort. They wanted his help. Taking their money, taking their power, was only the beginning.
“What did your source find out?” The skinny man flushed at the cheeks.
“Zelig has been posturing and positioning himself for a political takeover of the Agency. Getting this Bill of his passed to allow greater intelligence powers and access is his ticket.”
“And the Shirin Reyes issue?”
“All reports indicate she is no longer a problem.”
“And the real gangbangers Zelig’s men impersonated?”
“Will never be found.”
“Seems we underestimated our junior member…”
“Perhaps.”
“The Clockmaker wants your source to remain in play. Zelig is very useful in progressing our agenda, but he can’t be trusted.”
“Agreed.”
Four days later…
Adam pushed himself up higher into the hospital bed. The analgesia numbed the pain. The long, fresh stitches ran up the length of his knee and hid the damage he knew would never leave him.
He stared at the suture line, lost in thought.
“Adam. Did you hear me?”
He looked up at Lilly.
She smiled. “I asked if Deputy Director Zelig had come by to visit you?”
He shook his head.
“He will.”
He didn’t reply.
“He says there was no sanctioned hit on us…that he’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Adam didn’t look up from his knee.
“It’s bullshit. But you’re a hero. The agent who took down Shirin Reyes.”
Hearing her name struck him. She’d taken so much from him. But she’d also saved his life, saved his daughter’s life. For that, he would be forever in her debt.
He thought of her often… She had come to his house with the body of a woman, and a plan to disappear. She knew a team was coming after him and his family. Had she stalled? Just long enough for them to get there? He’d never know…
Shirin Reyes… She had saved his daughter’s life. She’d taken a bullet protecting her. He thanked her with a depth that ached in his heart. And still, he hoped to never see her again.
Two years later…
Shirin stirred the martini gently. She sat alone, as she had regularly over the past weeks.
The man at the far end of the bar smiled at her.
She looked back at her drink and sensed him move toward her.
He was a big man, bigger as he stood beside her. He smiled a knowing smile. “I’m Bill Civic.” He held out his hand. “And you are?”
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About Charlie Moore
Charlie Moore was born and raised in Sydney, Australia. He started work on his first full-length novel at age 18. When running through final edits for the book, he put it aside; wanting to live and experience some of the adventures his characters were thrust into. He became an accomplished martial artist, winning his first full contact fight by TKO and gaining over 30 medals before retiring from competition. He travelled the globe, got lost in dangerous parts of the world, swam with sharks, jumped out of planes, and became a Private Investigator.
Resuming his passion for writing, Charlie started ghostwriting to build and harness his skill, and in mid-2012 the story for the AGAINST THE CLOCK series was born.
Charlie now shares his time between rock climbing with his growing family and writing deadly action-packed thrillers.
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