The naked man Haskin had referred to as Smith disappeared behind the closed ensuite door.
Barratt moved around the bed, maneuvering toward Robyn, without taking his eyes or aim off the door. He passed the stereo, turned the volume down in a quick twist, and felt instantly better without the deafening music threatening to burst his eardrums.
He stole a quick glance toward Robyn. Something was horribly wrong. Her face was turning a deep purple, her eyes bulging. He raced to her. A garrote was twisted around her neck. She was choking.
Barratt kept one hand on the gun, pointing toward the closed bathroom door, and with the other, tried desperately to untwist the wire strangling her. He couldn't do it. He had to put the gun down and use both hands. He cursed, placed the gun by her side, and worked as quickly as he could to undo the wire around her throat.
It untangled, and he pulled it away from her neck. Almost instantly, her face began to return to a more natural color. She wheezed and coughed, then sobbed. She was still alive.
From behind him, Barratt sensed the movement before he saw it. Smith had hurled himself from the bathroom, a twisted face of anger and hatred roaring at him as he buried the sharp blade of the kitchen knife into Barratt's side.
Robyn saw it unfolding in front of her and screamed. Barratt had no time to react. The gun was so close, but the knife thrust into him paralyzed him. It was a strange sensation of disbelief, shock, denial. But as he stared into the evil eyes of a madman, he knew…he wouldn't survive.
17:58:19
Ben sat uncomfortably at his dining room table. The federal agents who had knocked on his door several minutes earlier fanned out across his apartment, looking for something.
"Mr. Mills," said the agent who had introduced himself as Agent Kelly, "I realize this must be a very confusing and worrying situation for you, but your full cooperation will help us to protect Katie."
Ben had no idea what was going on. The federal agents had thrown search warrants at him, barged into his apartment, and started drilling him with questions about Katie, claiming they were trying to find her, to protect her. It made no sense. Protect her from what? She was just an employment agent.
"We understand Katie had some financial paperwork she wanted to see an accountant about," Agent Kelly prompted. "Did she show you this paperwork? Or anyone else you're aware of?"
"I…ahh… I don't think so… But what has this got to do with Katie being in trouble? What kind of trouble is she in?" Ben asked.
"We think there are some very dangerous people after the information she asked your sister's accountant to help her with."
"Why don't you ask the accountant?"
"We can't," replied Agent Kelly, "he's dead."
The statement caught Ben off guard. He lost his breath as though sucker-punched. He felt wounded; the thought of Katie in danger, mixed up with anything that would result in someone's death was almost ludicrous, and yet these federal agents were suggesting just that.
The agent known as Morris entered the dining room holding Ben's cell phone. "We found his cell phone in the bedroom. It's on silent. Four missed calls from Katie Jones."
Ben stood instantly, snatching at his phone. "Hey! That's my phone!"
Agent Kelly blocked him. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mills, but that phone is now involved in a federal investigation."
Before Ben could protest again, the phone started vibrating in the agent's hand. There was an incoming call. The caller ID said "Katie Jones."
"It's her!" Agent Morris said with surprise.
Agent Kelly shouted to the other agents in kitchen, "It's her! Trace the call now!"
He looked at Ben, handed him the phone, "Answer the call, leave it on speaker. Try to get her to tell you where she is so we can get to her and help keep her safe. Understand?"
Ben nodded but still didn't understand what the hell was going on. He just knew he was worried, very worried. Nothing seemed right with this. He answered the phone on the seventh ring.
17:59:27
In the chaos, Robyn's screams told him he was still alive. He felt weak, breathless, numb all at once. In his mind, Barratt understood what was happening, but he was powerless to stop it.
Smith propped him up against the wall and moved in so close to him, their lips almost touched. He could almost taste Smith's bad breath as he spoke.
"Trent Barratt…pffftt… You almost had me. If you had come after me instead of saving the girl, maybe you wouldn't have a knife stuck in you right now." Smith sneered. "But don't worry, if I wanted you dead, I would've killed you at Kitchener Park or Belmont Police Station instead of helping you escape…and of course, now."
Smith left Barratt leaning against the wall, walked to Robyn's side, picked up Barratt's gun, and pointed it at Robyn's head.
"Stop screaming," was all he said. Robyn understood. He sat beside her. With her arms handcuffed above her head, she was helpless to move away, but she tried anyway. He smiled.
"I'm afraid I have to leave, but I won't forget you." He ran the barrel of Barratt's gun down her bare chest. He closed his eyes, savoring the moment, breathed deeply, sighed, and said, "I think we should continue this another day, only next time, we won't have any interruptions."
Smith stood, returned to the bathroom, grabbed his clothes off the door hook, and dressed slowly, in front of them.
Barratt fought the waves of nausea and shock threatening to overpower his senses. The knife still stuck out of his side. The blade was buried to the hilt. He dared not remove it, in case he opened an artery and bled out. He hated himself for being so helpless.
Smith tucked his shirt neatly into his pants, adjusted the belt, and walked calmly out of the bedroom. He paused for a moment outside the bedroom door, peered back, smiled, and disappeared.
17:59:41
"Katie?" Ben cradled the phone in his hands.
"Ben! Are you okay?"
Her voice was tense; there was genuine concern in it, but also anger. He hadn't heard her sound like this before.
"I'm good. But what's going on? There are some federal agents here. They say you're in danger… Are you okay?" For the moment, Ben had forgotten about the agents buzzing around his apartment. He just wanted to know Katie was safe. That she wasn't in trouble. That he would see her again and all of this was a big mistake.
"Ben, do as the agents say. This is just a misunderstanding. I'm on my way there now to sort it all out. Can you take the phone off speaker and hand it to the agent in charge?"
Agent Kelly didn't wait for Ben. He grabbed the phone and turned the speaker function off. He pressed "mute" and turned to the agent on the computer terminal tracing the call. "How long until we get a location?"
"Forty-five seconds."
Un-muting the phone, he raised the cell to his ear. "This is Special Agent Kelly."
"Special Agent," she said, "let's not pretend. I'm assuming you know my real name is not Katie Jones," Shirin said, her voice short, without inflection.
"That's a given."
"Did your Director Zelig tell you who he sent you after?" The agent gave nothing away. She didn't expect him to; his steely silence at the mention of Zelig's name was confirmation enough. "My real name is Shirin Reyes."
Agent Kelly's mouth fell open. Shit! Shirin Reyes!
"I'm on my way, Special Agent Kelly." Shirin spit the words out like a vile insult. "And if you're still there when I get there, I'm going to kill you all."
Agent Kelly was lost for words. He had never expected to be talking with a legend, let alone be threatened by one.
"When I get there, I expect to find Ben alive and well, and you and your men gone." Shirin's voice became a whisper. "Agent, can you see the bookshelf from where you are? Walk over to it. Look at the third shelf, fourth book from the right."
Agent Kelly walked over and located the book without speaking. He pulled it from the shelf. It felt strange. He opened the cover. It was fake, hollow, and inside was a transmitter wired to a secret camera peering fr
om its spine. "Shit…" was all he could say.
"I know what each and every one of you looks like! When I get there, if both my demands are not met, I will hunt down and kill every person you and the men in your team care about, and then I'll kill you."
The agent at the computer signaled “five seconds" to Agent Kelly. Kelly nodded.
"Do we have an understanding, Special Agent Kelly?"
"I think you know I can't just walk away," he said, trying to muster the confidence he no longer had. Director Zelig had not told him they were trying to capture Shirin Reyes. She was crazy. And deadly."Zelig would have me locked up and sent to God knows where."
"Don't worry about Zelig. He'll be dead soon," Shirin said with steely resolve. She disconnected the line.
Agent Kelly rushed to the side of the computer and the agent working the keyboard. "Did you get a trace on her?"
"She's close. We got a signal, it's just triangulating… Holy shit! She's in the building!"
chapter 7
"it's hard to run when your legs are broken."
the book of seekay
18:00:21
"Shit! She's in the building!" the agent repeated.
Agent Kelly snapped into action. He pointed to the two men closest the door and barked, "You two. Flanking positions on either side of the door." He reached for his two-way radio, tapped the call button and spoke into the mouthpiece while walking to the external windows and pulling the curtains closed. "Reece, Berkley, report."
Reece was in the truck, engine running at the end of the block, watching the street and ready to arrive for a quick extraction. Berkley was stationed in the foyer, dressed as an electrician working on the lighting conduit near the elevator door.
While Agent Kelly waited for his two agents to report in, he pointed to the two men watching Ben. "Cuff him to the door handle. If she comes in firing, I want him to be first to get it."
The two agents dragged Ben to the front door. He demanded to be told what was going on. They ignored him.
"Reece! Berkley! Report!" Agent Kelly repeated more forcefully. They should have responded by now.
"They're a little busy, Special Agent Kelly," Shirin replied over the secured two-way radio network.
Kelly froze, stared at the handset, looked at his men listening in. They were waiting for him to respond.
"My men?" He hoped they were not dead or dying.
"No use to you," she said matter-of-factly.
The four agents in the apartment looked to Kelly. Their eyes were a mix of fear and raw nerves. They were all bad men. Men who bent the rules, hurt people, even killed if they had to, but they were normally the ones in control, and they always had the advantage over their victims. The knowledge that they could be shot, killed, or taken in the line of their duty was an understood risk of the job, but it was extremely rare. Now, two of their comrades were down…and Shirin Reyes, the legend, was coming after them.
"Weapons hot!" Agent Kelly said, instructing them to have their weapons loaded and primed to go, safeties off. "Radio silence," he said, turning off his handset. The team followed his lead.
Ben challenged the handcuff secured around his wrist and fixed firmly to the front doorknob. He couldn't dislodge it or free himself. When he saw the agents readying their weapons, he felt a fear so complete it shook him to the edge of madness. Not for himself, but for the woman he loved. They were going to shoot her. They were going to kill her. The images of her hurt, bleeding, dead flashed into his mind, and he fought harder against the handcuff binding him.
"Katie!" he screamed. His voice panted in desperation, in rage. "Don't come in here! It's a trap! They have guns!" He maneuvered his face to the edge of the door and continued screaming as loud as he could, hoping his voice and his message would get through.
Agent Kelly nodded at the agent closest to Ben. The agent delivered a short jab with the end of his assault rifle to the side of Ben's face. Ben slumped, dazed and quiet, held off the floor by his secured arm.
"If he gives you any trouble, shoot him. Just don't kill him yet; we might need him for leverage." The men nodded their understanding. Returning to the computer technician, Agent Kelly spoke softly, "Report back to HQ, two men down, anticipate imminent conflict, backup requested urgently."
"Already done, sir," the young agent replied. "HQ confirm, two EMR teams are enroute and should arrive within fourteen minutes."
Now all we have to do is hold out and live that long, Agent Kelly thought.
18:01:37
Shirin stood slowly, like an angel of death rising from the shadows. Agent Reece's firearm was in her left hand, Agent Berkley's in her right, her silenced Berretta tucked into her belt at the small of her back.
She was on Ben's balcony, four stories from ground level. The climb from the balcony below had been challenging but within her ability.
Ben was alive. It was a thought accompanied by feelings she didn't recognize. She didn't cry but felt she wanted to. She didn't remember smiling but knew she must have been. Happiness and relief were in there somewhere, but as quickly as they had come, they were gone. Replaced with a cold, determined mindset to kill them all for coming after him, for trying to hurt her through him.
The blinds had been pulled shut, and the glass sliding door between the balcony and the living room was locked. Light filtered through the drawn curtains; Shirin could see the locking mechanism clearly; a simple lever-action latch.
Standing on the outside of the closed curtains and the glass door, she was invisible to the men inside Ben's apartment. Her view of the room through the curtains was limited, but she could make out the dull shapes and movements of the men. There were five of them. Two by the front door, one by the dining table hunched over a laptop computer, one pacing―the leader, she guessed―and one standing two feet from the door where she prepared to enter. She couldn't see Ben. And for the moment, that was for the best; if she couldn't see him, he wouldn't see her kill these men, and he wouldn't get in the line of fire.
Shirin slid both guns into her back pockets. She needed both hands to delicately open the door without alerting the men on the other side. She knelt down under the locking chamber, inserting a thin, rectangular piece of polycarbonate into the space between the aluminum doorjamb and the frame of sliding door panel. She maneuvered it carefully, silently, until it bent around the curvature where the doorframe fit inside the jamb. The card was strong and flexible. She was able to manipulate it all the way through until it formed a horseshoe shape.
She pushed the card up slowly and felt it connect with the internal latch. If she pushed too hard, the latch would disengage, flick up, and the telltale click would alert the killers. She wanted to lift the latch just high enough to disengage the lock, silently slide the door open past the point of where the latch would hook onto, and then release the latch.
It took her a full forty-five seconds to unlock the sliding door. She stood, gripped her silenced Beretta, and quietly opened the door just enough to slip inside.
With the door open, the fresh night air wafted into the dining room, billowing the curtains out. Shirin followed the wave of air, stepped sideways, and fired twice from the hip as the agent closest to the door turned and started to draw his weapon. He stumbled forward as the bullets slammed into his chest. Before he reached the curtains, he fell to his knees, clutching his wounds, and Shirin was whirling out from behind the curtain, gun hand raised and delivering a volley of silenced gunfire.
Two to the leader, center mass. A double tap to the man closest the front door. A triple tap to the agent on the right of the front door. One to the man by the computer as he reached for a weapon. And a chase-up shot to the leader, who was still standing.
It was then she saw him. Ben. He was handcuffed to the doorknob, slumped down, his right arm pulled up by the cuffs. He seemed dazed, but alive.
She had one bullet left in the mag. Quickly she scanned the agents in the room. They were all down. Gunfights were never like in the m
ovies. They were fast and deadly. Four seconds had passed, five men were dead.
The radio by the computer squawked alive. "Beta team, revised ETA six minutes. Report status."
Shirin looked at her watch. Fewer than six minutes before reinforcements arrived. She had to get herself and Ben out of there.
"Beta team. Come in," the voice over the radio repeated.
With no response, they would assume their men were down and come in hot. They would cordon off the block, cast a secure net around the building, and floor by floor hunt them down. Her options were quickly running out.
Shirin ran to Ben, tested the cuffs that bound him to the door handle. He was still dazed, his eyes rolling around, unable to focus, but apart from the swelling to the side of his head, he seemed uninjured.
She quickly frisked the two agents by the door, found the keys to the handcuffs, and released Ben from the awkward position.
He shook his head, rubbed his face. "Katie? What the hell is going on?" Shirin helped him to his feet while he spoke, her eyes checking him over. She confirmed, no visible injuries. "These guys came in here like a whirlwind saying you were in danger."
"I know, Ben. I'm very sorry."
"And why were they calling you Shirin?" he asked as he steadied himself against the closed door.
"Because that's my name, Ben. My name is Shirin Reyes."
"What?" he said in disbelief. "What do you mean, Shirin Reyes is your name? You've been lying to me? Who are you?"
Ben turned from her, and for the first time saw the carnage of dead bodies strewn through his apartment.
"You did this?" he asked incredulously.
Shirin searched each man one by one, pilfering whatever ammunition and supplies she could. She didn't respond to his last question.
"They were federal agents! They're going to arrest us!"
"It was them or you," she said calmly, "and they're crooked feds. They weren't here to help me―or you! They were here to get information out of you and then kill you."
"But what information? What could I possibly know that they would want?"
Against the Clock Page 15
