“See that door with the camera overhead?” Nahmer asks, pointing. “That leads to their quarters.”
I also note the keypad next to the door.
“Give me the entry card or passcode and we’ll handle it,” I say.
“No, this is something I have to do myself. This is the indulgence I am asking for,” she replies.
“No, we’re going with you,” Lynn states.
“If they see you, they’ll more than likely lock us out, if they haven’t done so already,” Nahmer says.
“So, we’ll wait them out,” Lynn says.
Nahmer chuckles. “Good luck with that. They’re well supplied in there.”
I stare into Nahmer’s eyes and see that she is speaking the truth. I don’t see any falsehood written in them, but then again, she was an operative. It’s a risk, but I feel that she’s being honest.
“Go then, and make it snappy,” I state.
I return her handgun, making sure she only has a single mag. As much as the risk is that she’ll just flee or try to organize something, I understand on another level what she wants to do and believe that she’ll return. It’s something I can’t fully explain other than a knowing and that, even though we ended up as opponents, we were once in the same game together. All of this was conveyed in that single look.
With a nod, Nahmer turns and walks down the hall, the sound of her boots echoing off the walls of the wide, empty hallway.
“Jack! You’re just letting her go? Just like that?” Lynn asks, incredulous.
“She’ll be back,” I answer, watching Nahmer swipe a card and enter.
“Yeah, and how do you know that? And what will she be back with? And how many? Sometimes you just amaze me, Jack,” Lynn says, obviously not happy.
“She’ll be back,” I say, looking to Lynn.
“What, you know that from that look you two shared? That’s what told you?” Lynn states, her anger mounting.
‘Jealous much’ wouldn’t be the appropriate response, so I press my lips together to prevent the words from being uttered. Besides, I know that this isn’t where her reaction is coming from. It’s been a tense day and one filled with adrenaline. I understand what she is saying, and I just don’t know how to explain it, really even to myself. I try to but do a very poor job of it.
“It’s a weird kind of honor, but honor nonetheless,” I end up saying.
“I know you have your reasons, and I love you for them, but they’re just hard to take sometimes. I can’t believe you’re going to let that woman go. The woman who gave the order that was meant to kill you but killed Allie instead. And destroyed Greg’s team while almost killing him as well.”
“I haven’t forgotten, and for that, she’ll pay. I just don’t know what that means yet,” I respond.
“I do. Kill her. With her around, those soldiers under guard are more of a threat.”
“I’m aware of that… but… more than likely, she also knows these systems better than anyone and we need that info.”
“Harold can figure it out, and we have the technicians,” Lynn says.
“That may be the case, but what if he can’t and we eliminate the one person who does know. We need to wait and find out what she knows. These systems can help us with the night runners who are gathering at our doorstep. It will also help us find survivors,” I respond.
“Fine, Jack, but I don’t like it.”
“Me either,” I say, turning back to watch the door.
Gav swipes her card and hears the door unlock. Feeling the handgun firmly in her grip, she opens the door and steps inside. The posh carpet and surroundings of the foyer tell the story of those who reside within. With a sigh, she walks through the foyer toward the conference room. The men, who orchestrated this whole mess, will know what is happening and that’s where they will be waiting for her to report. She’s surprised they haven’t summoned her yet, but that would only have been a matter of time.
Before entering the chambers, she checks the mag, clicks it back into place, and tucks the handgun in the beltline at her back. Knocking on the heavy wooden door, she hears “enter.” Inside, it’s just as she’s witnessed numerous times, five elderly men sitting around the polished conference room table. They are dressed in suits which she could never really understand.
I mean, who are they getting dressed up for? Each other? she has thought countless times.
However, that doesn’t matter at the moment. They’ll make nice burial attire.
“Have you come to report on the disturbances, Gavrielle?” one man asks, sitting at the head of the table.
Disturbances? Even now, they are so out of touch with reality.
“I have,” she answers.
“Then tell us what you are doing about the intruders,” the man says.
Calmly, Gav pulls the handgun out and fires point blank at the man at the head of the table. The report of the gunshot fills the room, muted to a degree by the plush carpeting and books lining the walls. The round leaves the barrel and strikes forcefully just to the left of his nose. Blood sprays outward, splashing on the two men on either side. The man rocks backward in his plush chair, tipping to one side and falling heavily to the floor.
All of the men’s eyes widen from shock, looking from their fallen member to Gav, their mouths open. Wasting little time, Gav aims at the next man and pulls the trigger. A wisp of smoke trails out of the barrel following the bullet as it streaks toward her target. The man joins the first on the floor, lying in a pool of blood soaking into the thick carpet. The men recover from their shock and twist to get out of their chairs in an attempt to get away from the vengeance that is being administered.
Their soft lives make any attempt weak at best. Gav fires at one who is attempting to rise. The bullet slams into the side of his head, launching him across the arm of a chair, his weight toppling it. He comes to rest with the overturned chair lying on top of him.
The two remaining are bolting for the door, the term bolting being relative. She fires into the back of one of the fleeing men. The silken threads of his suit coat puffs from the projectile passing through on its way to find flesh and bone. With a scream, he lurches forward, his hand automatically going to his back and the sudden pain. His legs give out from the intrusion upon his body and he falls face forward just before the open door.
The last man stumbles out of the doorway, making a feeble effort to close it behind him. Gav calmly walks across the room, one once filled with the fragrance of expensive cologne. Now it holds the rank odors of death. Passing the man bawling in pain from the bullet wound in his back, she fires one round into the back of his head, silencing the cries.
She hears frantic scrambling from the remaining man as he tries to make it to the outer doorway, his panting from fright and exertion audible. Stalking behind, she removes something from her pocket and places it in her mouth, tucking it between her cheek and gum. Rounding a corner, she spies her quarry almost to the door leading into the hallway.
Without slowing, he plows into it which opens under the force of his impact. He stumbles backward and, regaining his balance, starts forward once again. Gav raises her handgun and fires.
I continue to watch the doorway that Nahmer entered. Lynn is silent as she stands beside me but I can feel the anger emanating from her. I know she doesn’t understand my decisions at times, well, most of the time if truth be known. And she has a valid reason as they sometimes seem illogical, even to me. However, I’ve stayed alive by going with my gut instinct, as illogical as it may be.
Gonzalez and the others of Red Team stand watch covering the hallway, but I note their speculative glances aimed toward me. They all startle, going to their knees and bringing their M-4s to bear as the door suddenly swings open.