Tricks and Traps (Gray Spear Society Book 7) (16 page)

However, she wasn't ready to press the panic button yet. Body armor covered her torso, and it would stop any bullet short of a high-power sniper round. She also had an assortment of weapons including a razor sharp sword strapped to her thigh. Camouflage covered her from head to toe. If her adversary wanted to dance, she was properly dressed for the occasion.

She needed to draw him out, which meant using herself as bait. She looked around. She spotted a tree with low branches that she could climb easily.

She dashed across a clearing to reach the tree. Her footsteps were intentionally loud, and the moonlight made her easy to see. She ran past the tree until she reached the cover of a big bush. Much more carefully, she circled back to the tree. She climbed very slowly so the branches wouldn't shake until she was about ten feet off the ground. Finally, she drew a gun.

A figure was moving towards her position. It was a big man wearing all black clothes, but the whites of his eyes were visible. He was carrying a compact assault rifle with a suppressor. Clearly, he wasn't an ordinary rent-a-cop.

Tawni took out her phone and called Smythe. The phones were set to vibrate, so she wasn't worried about making noise.

"Yes?" he whispered.

"I need backup."

"On my way."

She clipped her phone to her belt.

The man in black stopped near the tree and looked around. He was searching for her.

She pointed her gun down at his head. In a clear voice, she said, "Drop the weapon. Hands in the air. Don't move."

He looked up at her. Streaks of black paint marked his face.

He abruptly rolled to the side and brought his gun around. With a little squeak of surprise, she leapt off the branch she was standing on. She heard a rain of bullets strike the wood behind her.

Her landing was painfully awkward, but she didn't stop moving. She returned fire. A suppressor kept the noise down to loud clicks and hisses. She couldn't tell whether she had hit her target.

The parking lot was directly ahead. She sprinted towards the nearest car, weaving as she ran. She slid across the hood of the car and fell to the ground on the other side.

She peeked under the car to find her enemy. Her heart was pounding in her chest. As her eyes searched the shadows, she wondered how she could've handled that situation better. Why hadn't the guy just followed her instructions?

Her phone vibrated.

She put it against her ear and whispered, "Hello?"

"You killed him," Smythe said. "Come back over here."

Tawni cautiously returned to the tree. Pain in her right knee bothered her, but it wasn't enough to slow her down. Smythe was crouched over a body on the ground. In the poor light, she saw the man had a bullet hole in his forehead.

Lucky shot,
she thought.

"What happened?" Smythe whispered.

She gave him a quick description of the fight.

"You're OK?"

"I tweaked my knee," she said, "but it's not bad."

"You want me to fix it?"

"Let me try to walk it off."

He shrugged. "Your choice. Why did you jump?"

"He was going to shoot me."

"You could've shot him first. There was no reason to risk an injury by throwing yourself out of a tree. When you point a gun at a guy, be prepared to pull the trigger."

"I guess I panicked." She looked down in embarrassment.

He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Lesson learned."

The dead man had a military radio headset. Smythe put the radio on his own head and listened intently.

"Hear anything?" Tawni said.

"Shh."

She waited silently.

"They're speaking Russian," he said after a minute. "I can't understand a word. I wish Marina were here. She's fluent in Russian."

"No English at all?"

"No." He pulled off the radio. "Go take those pictures. Hopefully, the camera isn't broken. I'll search this body for more clues."

The camera was in her pocket. She checked, and it seemed intact.

She went back to the parking lot. A wooden sign offered a convenient shadow, and she hid there while she snapped plenty of pictures. An ultraviolet flash was invisible to her eyes, but she heard the bulb popping every time she pressed the button. She checked the pictures to confirm they were in sharp focus. Bethany and Leanna would be able to identify the owners of the cars.

Tawni noticed a shifting patch of darkness on one side of the building. She could tell from the fluid way it moved that it was Norbert. He could twist his body like a gymnast despite his bulky muscles.

More movement drew her eye to the other side of the building. Another man in black with an assault rifle was coming around the corner. He seemed to be on patrol.
This security is hardcore,
she thought.

She called Norbert.

"What is it?" he said.

"Trouble. Fifteen seconds."

She watched him leap, climb the wall, and grab the edge of the roof with his fingers. He pulled himself up in a flash. She was jealous of his athletic prowess, but she knew he had earned it with countless hours of training.

The man on patrol passed beneath Norbert, oblivious to the danger. Norbert dropped like an owl taking a mouse. It didn't even qualify as a fight. He carried off the body without making any noise.

Tawni called Smythe to tell him what had happened. The whole team regrouped about a hundred yards down the road. They found a ditch which had a thick screen of brush all around. The unconscious body of the guard was placed on the damp, black dirt. He was short but solidly muscular.

"Thanks for the heads up," Norbert said.

"You're welcome," Tawni said. "Did you see anything through the windows?"

"No." He shook his head. "It was too dark."

"What about the flashlights?"

"I didn't see those, either. It was like the workers had disappeared."

The team searched the guard, but they couldn't find any identification or even a wallet. He had two guns, a knife, and a radio headset though, and these were tossed deep into the brush.

"I didn't find much on the other one, either," Smythe commented. "These guys don't want to be identified." He used some rope to bind the guard's hands and feet.

"Other one?" Norbert said.

Tawni explained what had happened.

"I'll stay and watch the prisoner," Smythe said. "You two go back to the factory and try to get a peek inside. Those workers didn't just disappear. Stick together."

Norbert and Tawni walked back up the road. With practice, she had become a little better at moving quietly. The main trick was checking the ground with her foot before putting her weight on it. She was trying hard, but she was still a lot noisier than Norbert.

"How do you want to do this?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure."

"What are the rules of engagement?"

"This is still just an investigation," he said. "We're not supposed to kill anybody until we know God's enemies are involved."

"But I already killed somebody."

"It was a clear case of self-defense, which is acceptable. If the other guard refuses to answer our questions, he'll probably die, too. Our interrogations usually end that way. We'll need Aaron's approval first."

"He can break the rules?" she said.

"No, but he bends them, and those decisions aren't easy. He answers to God and the legate. Neither boss will listen to excuses if Aaron goes too far."

Tawni frowned. Just being a
legionnaire
was intense enough for her. She didn't want to imagine the pressures that Aaron faced. Ten million people lived in his territory, and all of them were relying on him for protection, while God and the legate watched from afar.

The brown pinball machine factory came back into view. Tawni and Norbert crouched between some thick bushes.

"Any bright ideas?" he asked.

"Not really. Do you think there are more guards around?"

"Certainly. We're going to need a distraction to keep them busy while we do our work. Otherwise, we'll have to fight them."

"A distraction will wake them up," she said.

"When they realize two men have gone missing, they'll be alert for danger anyway."

She looked for something she could use to create a distraction. The cars in the parking lot gave her an idea.

"A car fire?"

He nodded. "Go ahead. I'll cover you."

She watched the shadows for a long moment to make sure it was safe. She sprinted across the parking lot and crawled under a red pickup truck. She pressed a small breaching charge against the gas tank. The wad of sticky explosive was designed to bust open doors, but it would work just as well for this purpose. She set the timer for one minute.

She ran back to Norbert.

"What did you use?"

"A breaching charge on the gas tank," she said.

He shook his head. "That may not work."

"Why not?"

The charge exploded with a loud bang. Gasoline gushed out but it wasn't burning. A big puddle quickly formed on the parking lot.

"What happened?" Tawni said.

"Those charges are designed to make holes not start fires. You need a separate ignition source."

He reached under his cloak and took out a green steel canister. Large holes perforated the sides.

"A flash bang?"

"Cover your ears," Norbert said.

He tossed the grenade onto the gasoline. She squeezed her eyes shut and jammed her fingers in her ears. The flash of light was startling even with her eyes closed. The boom thumped her chest.

He grabbed her arm. "Come on. Let's go around back."

The gasoline was now burning brightly under the truck. A guard dressed in black opened the front door and looked around.

Norbert ran around the factory using the tree line for cover. Tawni had to press hard to keep up. He seemed more interested in speed than stealth.

He went straight to a back door. He tried the handle, but it was locked. He took out a set of lock picks.

"Hurry," she whispered.

"Keep your eyes open for trouble."

She scanned her surroundings while he worked the lock. Every shadow seemed dangerous. Even the buzzing of insects sounded threatening.

Norbert opened the door. He slipped inside, and there was an immediate commotion.

Suddenly fearful, Tawni looked into the factory. He was standing over the dead body of a guard with a slashed throat.

"This operation is getting messy," Norbert whispered. "Let's finish quickly."

He took a flashlight from the body. She followed him as he moved swiftly through the factory. At night, it felt like a much more dangerous place than during the day.

An opening in the floor provided access to a secret basement. A workbench had been shoved out of the way to uncover the hole. A wooden stairway went down to a well-lit area below.

Tawni peered down the stairs and glimpsed Super Double Monkey machines being assembled from parts.

"Hey!" a male voice yelled.

She raised her eyes. Two guards had their assault rifles aimed at her.

Bullet holes appeared in their foreheads, and they dropped to the floor, dead. Tawni looked around for the shooter. Norbert was lying under the workbench with his gun in hand, and the barrel was smoking.

He stood up. "Pay more attention to your surroundings. You can't let your enemies sneak up on you like that. It's embarrassing." He put his gun away.

"Sorry," she said.

"Let's go before I kill anybody else."

They ran out the way they had entered.

Norbert led Tawni straight back to Smythe by the shortest route. By the time they arrived, she was breathing hard from sprinting at top speed. Her body armor felt like lead weights on her shoulders.

"How did it go?" Smythe said.

"Badly," Norbert said. "Three more dead."

"What was that loud noise?"

"We were trying to create a distraction so we wouldn't have to kill anybody."

Smythe frowned.

"There was a secret basement," Tawni said. "They were definitely making monkey machines. Aaron's information was good after all."

The prisoner was starting to wake up. He opened his eyes and looked at his captors with a startled expression. He began to yell in Russian.

Smythe punched him in the stomach. "Shut up."

The prisoner coughed. He pulled against the ropes on his wrists and ankles as he struggled to inhale.

"It's time to call Aaron," Smythe said. "He won't be happy about the sloppy work."

He walked off to make his call.

Tawni looked down at the prisoner. He had a pale face with an angular bone structure. A poorly trimmed mustache and beard gave him a rough appearance. He had a stubborn, defiant expression.

She took out a knife and dragged the tip across his throat, leaving a deep scratch. "What's your name?" she whispered.

He tightened his jaw.

She moved the knife to his thigh and slid it upwards. When she reached his groin, he stiffened.

"Name."

He swallowed. "Mikhail."

"Hold tight, Mikhail. We'll get to you in a minute." She winked.

He shuddered.

* * *

Neville Cantrell nodded with satisfaction. Everybody at the party seemed to be having a grand time. The men were wearing expensive suits, the women had squeezed into skimpy dresses, and the drinks were flowing like water. Cantrell knew the names of most of the people. He couldn't call any of them friends because he didn't really have friends. They were his business associates and favored employees.

The party was happening on an outdoor patio behind the Pot of Gold Casino. The patio tiles were bright yellow with flecks of pyrite which looked like gold. It was a sticky night. He now realized he should've moved the party to an indoor location with air-conditioning, but it wasn't a big deal. The warmth was like a relaxing sauna. He appreciated how the moonlight played across the women's bare shoulders.

A short man with gray hair approached. He was one of the bankers that had funded the construction of the casino.

Cantrell faced him. "Hi, Robert. Having a good time?"

"A great time," Robert said.