Deadly Testimony (21 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

The moon was hidden beyond a low ceiling of clouds but it wasn’t unusual for the Seattle area. It wasn’t even going to be much of a problem. Live in or near a city of any decent size and there was always going to be a certain amount of ambient light no matter how late at night.

Lizzy was dropped off by the cab at the Harbor Island Marina. Theoretically, she worked there and had left her car in the parking lot. So the nice cabdriver, who’d kindly offered to wait for her, drove away with a wave once she’d jingled some keys at him and assured him she would get home just fine.

The evening had been full of smiling and waving. Her cheeks hurt.

She’d traded her cocktail dress and gorgeous shoes for a simple black T-shirt and pants with dark combat boots. Now that the cabdriver had driven away, she slid on urban fatigues over her close-fitting clothes. It’d be warm but at least the patterning on the fatigues would break up her shape, make it harder to spot her.

Leaving the rest of her gear in her duffel, she slung it over her shoulder and headed north toward the shipping container areas covering the majority of the small island.

The cranes were visible in the night, rising up over Harbor Island and looming against the immediate skyline. Given the choice, she’d have made her way to the upper parts of one of them to choose her vantage point. But she’d had a party to get to and reinforcements to round up. Chances were, her opponent was already here and tucked into his own perch.

Damn the bastard for getting out here before her.

She kept as quiet as she could approaching the outer perimeter sticking to whatever cover was available to her. The other sniper could take a shot at her at any time if he spotted her. She needed to find him first and neutralize him.

It was close to midnight and there wasn’t a lot of time for this game. The two of them could sneak around for hours trying to get the higher ground and clear shot on the other. If he knew she was here.

Hell, she’d done this before and it had taken days before she’d managed to take down her opponent in the middle of nothing but dust and rocks and sand mites. And there’d been the goddamned camel spiders too. At least here the worst she had to worry about were roaches. Maybe.

Circling, she searched the shadows for him. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. She continued to sweep her gaze systematically across the terrain as she let her training regulate the speed and rhythm of her blinking to keep her eyes fresh despite the strain of trying to see in the dark. After a short time, she began to search more efficiently as her eyes adjusted even further to the lower light.

Minutes ticked by and she worked up a sweat searching the outer rows. Finally, she waited for a facility lamp to flicker out and climbed a stack of shipping containers before the light stuttered back into brightness again. Sucking in huge lungfuls of air once she got to the top, she struggled to keep as quiet as possible. Damn, running was fine but her ability to climb quickly but quietly could use some additional training.

Lying flat on the storage container, there was no higher point in the area with the exception of the cranes. From here, she hoped she’d be able to find him or else she’d be climbing the cranes one at a time to try to sneak up on him.

But she was betting he wasn’t in the cranes. Based on his previous perch, the one she’d investigated with Kyle, he liked a sheltered nook with multiple choices for a hasty retreat. They were also susceptible to significantly greater influence by the wind coming up off the waterway. It’d make any shot more complicated. He was more likely to be on the shipping containers, tucked into a hidey-hole with a clear line of sight on the meeting place.

As her breathing normalized and her heart rate recovered, she shimmied farther along the top of her crate alligator-style to avoid unnecessary noise. At the edge, she waited until she recognized each of the night sounds. The splash of water against the edge of this industrial island out in the waterways. A random seabird or two. The dull roar of distant engines as planes left the nearby airports and flew past Seattle. She took each sound, identified it and disregarded it as she searched for the sound that didn’t belong.

It was the scent that helped her locate him first. The sweet smell of bubblegum wafted to her as a light breeze picked up. She turned her face quickly into the wind and studied the area ahead of her.

She eased her own rifle and scope out of her duffel. First she checked that the scope shade tape was still in place to be sure no random reflection of the scope would betray her location, then using the scope, she took a closer look at both the far stack and the near. Of course he wasn’t lying directly on top the way she was. But she’d hoped to see some hint to give her a target. She had to find a way to identify where he was and get her shot.

At this point, she needed to do something unconventional to flush him out.

Leaving her rifle out, she slipped it into place across her back. Tightening the three-point harness hard against her body, she made sure it wasn’t going to flail at all while she climbed. She shimmied back down off the high stack she’d been using. Reaching back into her duffel bag, she came up with a flare and a flash grenade. Neither of them was particularly quiet and both of them were about to ruin his night vision.

Hey, even ninjas require some help to go unseen.

She uncapped her glorified road flare first and closed her eyes as she lit and tossed it along the edge of the nearest container aiming for the darkest shadow in the aisle. As it flew and skittered noisily across the ground she jogged toward the first stack, keeping far enough away to keep the top edge in sight. As she put distance between her and the flare, it began to burn brighter and brighter until a hundred new shadows danced in the red light.

There was a brief flash, catching her eye. She froze and slowly crouched down as she peered up at the first stack. There, the short end of the container, second from the top, had tarp stretched over its end instead of two closed metal doors.

A puff of white vapor slipped out from the edge of the tarp. Hard to see, definitely. If she hadn’t been watching for it she’d have missed it.

Gotcha.

She crept in close until she was pressed to the side of the bottom container of the stack. The metal wall of its side was cold and rough with rust. It smelled metallic and salty and she wondered how many times this particular container had traveled the Pacific.

Hefting the flash grenade, she considered her options. Flash grenades were heavier than they looked and made a decent amount of sound in conjunction with the blinding flash. Once it detonated, the light from the flash grenade would sear his retinas and potentially do permanent damage.

Which was why she was going to lob it someplace else and not be looking anywhere near its direction when it went off.

There wasn’t much time before the rest of the team arrived with Kyle. This sniper needed to be neutralized and she needed to be in her own perch well before they arrived.

She yanked the pin, drew back her arm, released the handle, counted slowly to one-Mississippi and threw the flash grenade. Without waiting, she turned and began to climb as soon as it hit the ground and began to clatter along the asphalt. The tarp above her flapped slightly.

She definitely had the right location. Good. Otherwise, she’d end up shot in the back.

The flash grenade went off less than a second after bouncing, casting the metal under her hands in brilliant white light. She kept climbing, scrambling furiously now. As she reached the edge of her target container, she gathered her legs under her and launched herself into the tarps.

Heavy fabric parted for her and she plunged into darkness, hearing more than seeing the man inside. He’d been lying on the floor, close to the edge and she’d managed to land partially on him. As he rolled away from her, she managed to kick his trigger hand. His rifle fired and she kicked again, sending the rifle out and over the edge.

His knee connected hard with her cheekbone as he cursed.

She rolled onto her back and pivoted on her tailbone to bring both her legs together between them. Her two-footed kick contacted with the soft portion of his torso and she was rewarded with his grunt of pain.

In the dark, she heard the telltale click of the safety coming off his secondary weapon. Question was whether he could see her or not and how much time she had to disarm him.

She could see his faint form as a darker shadow against the black. He was in reach, she could do this. In two seconds, this would be over either way.

* * *

“It’s five to two.” Kyle stared at his watch. “Why aren’t we getting out of the car?”

Marc sat in the driver’s seat, dressed as a chauffeur. “Technically, we were just waiting here until it came time to drive out through the shipping container lot over there.”

Lizzy’s teammate was a genial man and tended toward a bit more easy conversation than either Lizzy or Gabriel Diaz. Despite using more words, Kyle was finding that Marc didn’t actually answer his question any more than Lizzy did until he was ready to.

Tricky conversationalist.

“All right, why are we waiting?” Kyle was trying to be patient but he was reaching his limit.

Marc was looking around them, studying the other cars and surroundings. “Surveillance cameras are all disabled, as far as I can see. Doesn’t look like Lizzy’s work though.”

“No? Is that bad?” Kyle leaned forward to peer through the tinted windows.

“Not necessarily.” Marc tapped a small radio set against the dash. It wasn’t a part of the car and didn’t look like a model Kyle had seen before. But then, he didn’t spend a lot of time noticing what was in the front of most car service vehicles. “We all break silence in a few minutes. There’ll be a set of orders and we’ll have confirmation about whether we’re proceeding as planned. If Lizzy doesn’t check in at that time, then we worry.”

Two minutes never passed so slowly.

At exactly 2:00 a.m., the radio came to life.

“Diaz here.”

Marc lifted a handset and spoke into it. “Lykke here. We’re in position.”

“Scott here.”

Kyle sat back, relief flooding through him. Everything was going to be okay if she was out there.

Diaz’s voice came across and it was grim. “We’ve run into a delay here closing up the charity event. Edict decided to pay us a visit. Guessing they anticipated you’d try to meet up with the team but they missed you. Ash and I are a minimum of thirty mike out. You’re going to have to stall.”

Kyle tried to swallow past a hard lump in his throat. Could they? “Who or what is Mike?”

Marc turned his head to answer over his shoulder. “Mike is minutes. Radio protocol tends to have us use ‘mike’ for minutes and ‘sierra’ for seconds. It’s a military thing.”

“Negative.” Lizzy’s voice was low and urgent. “They’re here. I have eyes on one older businessman, three bodyguards and our two targets. This situation will not remain stable for thirty mike. It’s going to be over in ten or less.”

Diaz was for a moment. “Scott, are you in position?”

“A-firm.” Lizzy was getting quieter or Kyle was having trouble hearing past the rush of his own blood in his ears.

“Can you provide cover?” Diaz asked. “We’re en route. Will cut the time as much as possible.”

“Copy that. Break,” Lizzy responded again. “Lykke. Proceed with the exchange.”

The semblance of a trade. Kyle for his family. Once they were safe, Lizzy would provide a distraction so he could get back to the car too. Marc would drive them away.

Marc put the car in Drive. “Affirmative. Diaz, confirm your position. If we have to, we’ll reroute to rendezvous with you.”

“Copy.” Diaz responded. “We’ll provide support as soon as possible.”

Marc turned his head to speak over his shoulder again, suddenly dead serious. “Slight change in plans.”

Kyle took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Lizzy said nothing ever works out the way it’s been planned. That’s why you don’t make complicated ones.”

That surprised a chuckle out of Marc. “Well, that’s close enough to truth. We’re very practiced at making field decisions. Too much can happen too fast and everything has to be done on the fly. I wouldn’t try this if Lizzy wasn’t out there.”

“She’s good.” Kyle was certain of it.

“Very.” Marc confirmed.

Then Marc was putting the car in Park again. “Let me get out first, then you. We’ll hear the man out and make the exchange. Just don’t get into their car and try to stay clear of their people. Don’t let them get hands on you if you can help it. Let us do the rest.”

How did they live their lives like this? He took the wild thought and jammed it in the back of his mind. He could think about it later, if he survived. It was time.

The car door opened as Marc leaned in. “Ready for you, Mr. Yeun.”

The man’s voice had taken on a diffident tone and his demeanor had changed. He was suddenly very much a hired driver. Yeun kept his expression neutral as he stepped out of the vehicle. After a moment, he moved forward and stopped a few meters closer to the waiting group but still in easy reach of the car.

Huge shipping containers rose up in stacks on either side of them. The metal boxes were sized to be moved directly from the ocean barges to 18-wheeler trucks if necessary. Lined up as they were, they were intimidating and he felt closed in despite the wide expanse of asphalt all around them. There were dim utility lamps spread throughout the area, but the light they gave off was barely sufficient to see by.

“Yeun, I told you to come alone.” His former boss stood approximately four meters away, flanked by two thugs. One of them had his sister by the arm.

Diaz had asked them to buy time if they could. Kyle didn’t doubt Lizzy’s assessment that this would be over in less, but he could do his best to play things out. Besides, it would be odd if he didn’t approach this the way he approached his corporate dealings.

Straightening, he spread his hands, palms out. “We live in a very crowded city and I prefer to maintain a certain level of fitness. I neither own a car, nor do I have a driver’s license.”