Even The Dead Will Bleed

by Steven Ramirez

  Vlad’s Russian friends had supplied us with plenty of guns and ammo. As I tore through cabinets, I found four sets of body armor—just enough for us.

  “What time is it?” I said.

  “After eight.”

  “We have to assume that Isaac and Sasha were given dinner. She should be going to bed soon.”

  Vlad and I put on our body armor and tactical vests. We would have to take the other gear with us, which would be difficult since we would also be carrying weapons. I felt my cell phone vibrate, and took it out. A text from Isaac was glowing on the screen. A single line read All set.

  When we had driven around to the back of the building earlier in the day, I had spotted a grey steel door. In front of it was a concrete loading ramp. I wasn’t sure how Isaac would find the door. All we knew is that it was on the east side of the building.

  “Let’s go,” I said and switched off the lights and headed for the door.

  Vlad grabbed my arm to stop me. His voice was a whisper. “Radio.”

  Outside, a flashlight beam played across the shaded windows, a little of the beam illuminating the motorhome’s interior. Then the crackling sound of a voice over a two-way radio. “10-45 . . . 10-45 . . . Over.”

  Whoever was outside lowered the flashlight and answered. “This is Lewis. I’m on the east side of the building. There’s an unauthorized vehicle here. Over.”

  “10-1 . . . 10-9 . . . Over.”

  Having worked for Black Dragon, I knew the codes. The guard inside the building was asking for this guy to repeat the message. There wasn’t any time. Gripping the door handle, I banged it open, knocking a guard on his butt.

  Vlad followed me out of the motorhome. Terrified, the guard looked up at us. He was young. Thin and gangly, wearing a cap that looked too big for him A voice over the radio repeated, “10-9 . . . 10-9. Over.”

  “Tell him 10-26,” I said, “or I’ll blow your head off.” Then I raised my handgun and pointed it at his face.

  “What does this mean?” Vlad said.

  “Disregard last information.”

  I thought the kid was going to piss himself as he spoke into the radio. “10-26 . . . 10-26. Over.”

  “Imagining things again, huh, Lewis?” Someone else laughed in the background.

  As I stared the kid down, he said, “Real funny, guys. Over.”

  “Come back inside, Lewis. There’s a Milky Way with your name on it. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over and out.”

  I knelt down, took the radio and motioned for the frightened guard to stand. He did as I asked without hesitation. I felt sorry for him. He looked to me like a recent high school graduate who’d gotten his training from an online course. He definitely wasn’t suited for this kind of life.

  “What’re you gonna do?”

  I looked at Vlad, who said, “We must kill him.”

  “Shit!” the kid said, becoming faint.

  I caught him before he fell. “Relax. My friend isn’t from around here.” Then to Vlad, “This could work in our favor.”

  I took the kid’s weapon, riot stick and mace and pointed towards the grey door. “Do you have a key for that door?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I want you to let us in. Is there an alarm?”

  “It doesn’t go on until 9.”

  I checked my cell phone. Eight-thirty. I texted Isaac, instructing him to meet us in Sasha’s room. As the guard unlocked the door I kept my gun trained on his back. Vlad went in first, then the guard, then me. We stood in a large room that looked like a storage facility. Racks and racks of medical equipment and supplies were piled high in cardboard boxes. I didn’t know how far Sasha’s room was, so we would have to rely on the kid to get us there.

  “Take us to the service elevator,” I said.

  Happy to be alive, the guard led us through the darkened area to a set of swinging double doors like the kind you’d find in a grocery store. As he put his hand up to push it open, I grabbed it and peered through the scratched plastic window. Just outside the door was a small beige room. An extra-wide stainless steel freight elevator stood on one side. Then I spotted it—a surveillance camera mounted high in a corner and facing downward.

  “Any cameras in the elevator?” I said.

  “No.”

  I reached down and pulled out the hunting knife that was strapped to my leg. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  I pointed my AR-15 at one of the small windows on the swinging door and watched as the guard walked gingerly into the room to the other end where the camera was mounted. Fortunately, there was a little space behind the camera, and the kid stood there, just out of range of the lens.

  Looking at me, he gripped the knife I had given him and jumped straight up, trying to cut the coax cable that connected the camera to the surveillance system. But there was one problem—he was too short!

  Wiping the sweat from my eyes, I watched as the kid worked the problem. A large plastic paint bucket stood in a corner next to him. Carefully, he pulled it towards him and inverted it. Then, standing on the bucket, he reached up and, after several attempts, severed the cable. As soon as he did, Vlad and I rushed in.

  “Good work,” I said, taking back my knife.

  Vlad raised his weapon. “We must get rid of him now.”

  “Hang on.”

  I reentered the warehouse and found a spool of sisal rope. As Vlad used the knife to cut a cleaning rag into strips, I sat the guard in a corner and bound his hands and feet. Then the Russian used some of the cloth strips to gag him. When he was secure, I patted the kid on the head and approached the elevator with Vlad.

  Sasha’s room was located on the eighth floor. I pressed the elevator button and we waited. When the doors opened I took a quick look inside to make sure there really were no cameras. Then Vlad and I got in and I hit the button.

  “There’ll be more video cameras in the hallway,” I said. “But we’re armed, and maybe we can get out without any shooting.”

  “You pay attention to enemy,” Vlad said. “I will protect my sister.”

  “Deal.”

  As the elevator doors opened on eight, I peered into the dark, deserted hallway. Something felt wrong. Waving to Vlad, I got out cautiously and we headed for Sasha’s room. But as we got closer I could make out a small, thin figure standing alone at the end of the hallway in front of the huge window.

  It was Sasha.

  Streaks of moonlight through the clouds fell on her, illuminating her hair. I thought she might be injured because she wasn’t moving.

  “Dave!” she said.

  Then another voice. “Welcome back, gentlemen.”

  As Vlad and I rushed towards her, Zeles emerged from the shadows, pointing a handgun at Sasha’s head. We stopped cold.

  “Please drop your weapons,” he said. “You know, I’m actually horrible with guns, but at this distance I don’t think even I could miss.”

  Once again, I had done everything wrong.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Plan B

  Four armed guards appeared behind us, one of them escorting Isaac, who said, “I’m sorry, Dave.”

  Vlad and I looked at each other and reluctantly laid down our weapons. While two guards retrieved them, the other two patted us down and looked at Zeles, who had already lowered his gun and, for some reason, kept checking the window.

  “It wasn’t even loaded,” he said to me, smiling like a Vegas poker player revealing the losing hand that won the game. Then he pointed to our tactical vests. “Don’t you both think you’re overdoing it a little?”

  “It takes a lot of firepower to stop this kind of bullshit,” I said.

  Zeles laughed appreciatively. “Very good. You know, it’s funny. Years of medical training. A one thirty-six IQ. And I still messed up. “Tell me, Dave. Would you have been so suspicious had I not said Sasha’s name at lunch?”

  “I would’ve figured it out.”

  “I suppose.”

 
“What do you want, Zeles?”

  “Want? I want the Russian girl. Unfortunately there are other forces at work. She is fascinating, though.” He stroked Sasha’s hair as she pulled away in revulsion. “I could spend years studying her—and eventually her child. Oh, did you know she’s having a girl?”

  “You made a deal, didn’t you?” I said.

  “Of course. Research is all about deals. It costs millions and takes years to make any real progress. It’s hugely helpful when you can find a benefactor.”

  “Walt Freeman.”

  “Walt and I go way back. He’s agreed to fund my research for the next ten years in exchange for delivering her safely.”

  “Son of a bitch, I’ll kill you!” Vlad said. As he rushed Zeles, someone fired their weapon, and Vlad fell.

  “Vlad!” Sasha said.

  In the confusion I turned and wrenched the gun from the hapless guard’s hand and shot him in the face, sending a blood spray out the back of his head.

  “Sasha, get down!” I said, and she dropped to the floor.

  Two more guards tried to shoot me. I grabbed a third and used him as a shield, the barrage of bullets peppering his torso. As he sank I shot the remaining slow-witted guards in the head.

  Sasha and Isaac were huddled over Vlad, who had taken a bullet to the leg. But Zeles, white and frozen, just stood there, nervously checking the window.

  Grabbing my AR-15, I marched forwards towards Zeles. As I passed Sasha and Isaac, I said, “Stay down.”

  As I took aim, Zeles, a horrified expression on his face, dropped to his knees as I began firing. The stream of bullets weakened the glass and, with an explosion, blew the entire window out, letting in the cold wind and the rain.

  Lowering my weapon, I turned towards Isaac. “Can you help Vlad?”

  “Yes.”

  As Isaac went to get supplies, I closed in on Zeles and struck him sharply with the butt of my weapon. Crying out, he fell to his knees, holding his hands in front of his bloody face to fend off further attacks.

  “You bastard, why did you—” Waving me away like a hurt child, he said, “It’s too late! They’re already here.”

  I looked out the window through the rain. Below, a fleet of black Escalades had pulled up to the front of the building and grey-suits were pouring out of them like scorpions leaving the nest. I recognized one of the men as Trower.

  Isaac returned with a tourniquet and other first-aid supplies and began treating Vlad. The grey-suits would be here in no time. We needed to get Sasha and the others out of the building.

  “Vlad, can you walk?” I said.

  Isaac looked up at me angrily. “Dave, for God’s sake, the man’s just been—”

  “Can you walk?”

  The Russian nodded and, using Isaac for support, got to his feet.

  I waved the others out. “Get to the elevators. We’re going to the basement. I’ll be right there.”

  When Zeles and I were alone, I stared down at him as he sat in a corner on his haunches, cowering and gibbering, a bloody handkerchief pressed against his swollen cheek.

  “I think you broke my jaw.”

  I laid my weapon down, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to the broken window, both of us getting drenched in the rain. Below on the sidewalk Trower stared up at me. Zeles looked at me in confusion and, realizing what I was about to do, closed his eyes and whimpered.

  “I only did it for science! We’re saving lives here!”

  “You can explain when you get to Hell,” I said.

  Lifting him as high as I could, I flung him back through the open window. I watched as he fell screaming and hit the sidewalk below, dangerously close to where Trower was standing. Then I left to catch up with the others.

  When I arrived at the elevators, Isaac, Vlad and Sasha stood there, staring at me in silence. Avoiding their gazes, I waited until the doors opened. Asimov was in the car and looked at us with surprise. I raised my gun and waved him back so we could get in. Then I pressed the button for the basement.

  “Can you stop pointing that thing at me?” Asimov said.

  I lowered my weapon. “Zeles is dead.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. He was working with some very bad people—men who want to harm Sasha. And now those men are in the building. Can you help us get out of here?”

  “I don’t understand.” He looked at Isaac helplessly.

  “It’s true,” my friend said. “We need to protect the girl, Peter.”

  Just then, an alarm sounded. Asimov shoved me out of the way and pulled the Stop button. “Sorry, that’s the fire alarm, which means the elevators are being recalled to the first floor.”

  “Where the grey-suits will be waiting,” I said to Isaac. Then to Asimov, “Do you have a cell phone on you?”

  “I left it in my office.”

  “Good.”

  I scanned the interior of the elevator. Flat metal rails were mounted on three walls. “Help me stand on this rail,” I said to Asimov.

  It took a few seconds for me to find my balance. As Asimov leaned against me, I repeatedly brought one foot down hard on the rail. Eventually it loosened. Then one side gave and I hopped off. Asimov and I pulled on the rail till it came off the wall completely.

  “How did you even get mixed up with these people?” I said.

  “I was at Johns Hopkins when they recruited me. I’d always wanted to live in California. You see, I grew up in the east and—”

  “I get it.”

  We brought one end of the rail towards the elevator doors. I began prying them, jamming the rail as hard as I could against the groove between the doors and moving the rail back and forth, while Asimov used his fingers to force the doors open.

  “And you had no idea . . .” I said.

  “No. I’ve only been here a year.”

  Isaac touched Asimov’s shoulder. “We could use you on our team.”

  Soon the doors loosened. Once we had enough of a gap, we each took a door and pulled it open, revealing a corridor. The alarm echoed and emergency lights flashed. Fortunately, we were almost flush with the floor. One by one we helped Isaac, Sasha and eventually Vlad through. Then Asimov followed. I handed over the weapons and climbed out.

  “What’s the quickest way out?” I said.

  Asimov peered down the corridor. “It looks like we’re on the fifth floor. There’s a lab that way, which I have access to. Inside, there’s a separate emergency exit.”

  “Great,” I said. Then to Vlad, “How are you holding up?”

  “Protect my sister.”

  “Listen, Asimov—”

  “Please, call me Peter.”

  “Peter. I need you to arm yourself. Do you know how to use a gun?”

  “I’m a quick study.”

  Holding the assault rifle, I handed him my Glock and, after showing him the basics, we went as fast as we could, but Vlad was weak and in extreme pain. When we got to the lab doors, Peter swiped his card. The card reader made an annoying buzzing noise and continued glowing red. He kept trying it till I grabbed his hand.

  “Stand back,” I said.

  Using the AR-15, I blasted the panel. The door sprung open and we went inside.

  We found ourselves in a gigantic room, the center of which was filled with rows of long tables on which sat high-powered microscopes and other electronic equipment. This area was surrounded by offices and glass-enclosed conference rooms.

  Peter led us across the way to a small corridor where I noticed a glowing green Exit sign.

  Grabbing the door handle, he said, “Let’s hope those men didn’t outguess us.”

  The stairwell was clear. As quietly as we could we descended two flights of stairs. The noise of a door banging open filled the stairwell. It sounded like it came from below. I held up my hand and signaled for Peter to aim his weapon. Then I pointed my assault rifle and we waited.

  Light footsteps, then a head appeared. As the figure continued t
o climb I saw that it was Lewis—the scrawny guard we’d tied up earlier.

  When he recognized me, his eyes widened and he lowered his weapon. “Aw, crap.”

  “Lewis, get your ass up here,” I said.

  Like an obedient dog he trotted up the stairs and handed me his weapon. “Hey, Dr. Asimov.”

  “Hi, Lewis. Sorry about this.”

  “Look, I’m not going to kill you,” I said. “But we’re getting out of here.”

  “No, I get it. But how’re you gonna tie me up this time?”

  I was beginning to like the kid. But we were running out of time. “Turn around,” I said.

  As he did, I raised my gun to hit him in the head.

  “Wait!” Vlad said, breathing hard. “Hostage.”

  “Good idea.”

  I signaled for Lewis to go down first. Then the rest of us followed. As we got closer to the basement, no one else appeared to block our path. At the bottom I peered through the steel door leading to the outside and didn’t see anyone. If we could just make it to the motorhome, we might have a chance of escaping. But as I stepped outside I saw that the plan had evaporated in smoke.

  The motorhome was on fire.

  We stood staring at the vicious flames and black smoke that poured from the charred shell of our escape vehicle.

  “Dave?” Isaac said.

  “I’m thinking.” I pulled out my cell phone and dialed 911. Then I handed the phone to Peter. “Identify yourself and tell them you heard shots.”

  “What?” When the dispatch operator answered, Peter panicked, then spoke. “Hello? This is Dr. Peter Asimov at St. Lazarus.” I knew from experience that the operator was attempting to go through her script. “No, listen! I heard shooting in the building. You need to send someone! Now!”

  I grabbed the phone and disconnected. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

  “So we’re going to wait for the cops and the fire department?” Isaac said.

  I closed my eyes to think. “We need a vehicle.”

  “Mine’s in the parking lot,” Lewis said. “I could take you.”

  We followed the guard to a private lot in the back. When we arrived, I saw grey-suits milling, their weapons raised.