A Necessary Kill (7 page)

“I’m here to offer you a job. But thanks to your little striptease, I only have about thirty seconds left to give you my sales pitch before the guard comes back.”

She shrugs. “So make it quick.”

“Okay… how would you feel about earning twenty million dollars to help me assassinate the president of the United States?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

“Huh… Okay, I’m in—sounds kinda fun.”

I shake my head and smile. She didn’t even hesitate.

“There’s just one thing. I’m
kinda
incarcerated here for,” she pauses to look at her wrist, even though she’s not wearing a watch, “oh, the rest of my life! It was a nice idea at the time, but I didn’t think it through, I’ll admit. If you want my help, you’ll have to bust me out of
here
first.”

I hear the door open outside the room. I don’t have much time…

“I’m guessing that’s not going to be as easy as it sounds?”

She shakes her head.

Damn it.

“Okay, sit tight. I’ll think of something.”

Great… now I just need to think of something!

The door to the room opens and the guard appears. “Okay, time’s up. Let’s go.”

“Can I not just have a couple more minutes with her?”

“I’m afraid not. Too much excitement sets her off.”

I glance sideways at her, suppressing a smile. She winks at me.

“Yeah… I can imagine.”

I walk over to the door, pausing in front of the guard. He’s about my height—similar build and shape. A bit younger than me. He’s on edge, his body language is tense.

I look past him, over his shoulder, at Ruby, who’s sitting patiently in her chair, watching me.

I’ve never been one to really plan things. And, if I was being brutally honest with myself, my track record of improvising in the heat of the moment is poor at best.

But when in doubt, stick with what you know…

I whip my body to the right, slamming my elbow into the guard’s temple. No warning, minimal movement, maximum effect. He drops to the floor in a heap.

Ruby stands and runs to the window, slamming her hand on it. “Are you
crazy
?” she shouts.

I gesture to the surroundings. “Really? You’re asking me
that
after what I just had to sit through?”

I crouch down and take the nightstick and keychain before dashing into the corridor, fumbling around with the keys, trying to find the right one. I strike gold on the sixth and pull the door open. She’s standing in front of it, arms crossed over her chest.

She pokes her head out and quickly looks left and right. “Are you an idiot? I mean, I was acting… but you—you’re genuinely this fucking stupid, aren’t you?”

I frown. “Hey, hold on a minute, lady! I’m doing you a favor busting you out of here!”

“And I’m eternally grateful. But my door, like the one opposite, is alarmed. It’s not linked to the main system like everyone else’s, so it can’t be opened centrally. Extra security measure for high-risk inmates, should they have a system failure or something. Hence the alarm—no one can open my cell without everyone finding out.”

“Oh…”

“Plus, that guard you just laid out has a panic button that’s electronically linked to a heart rate monitor, so if anything happens to him, it sends an alert to the central system, also telling everyone.”

“Ah…”

“So, Adrian, while I’m glad you’re getting me out, tell me—what do you intend doing about
them
?”

She points to her left, and I turn my head to see what she’s referring to. Through the darkness I see the lights flickering into life above the metal gate separating us from the stairs. I see the two guards from the desk standing with five of their friends. They’re armed with what look like cattle prods—I can see the blue line of electricity crackling at the end.

I look back at Ruby and shrug. “Good question.”

11:46 EDT

“Well?” she asks.

“Shush!” I hiss. “I’m thinking.”

We’re at the end of a corridor. The only way out is directly ahead of us through a locked metal gate and a team of armed security guards. I have a nightstick, of the non-electrified variety, and a half-dressed woman who I’m trying to bust out of an insane asylum.

I’ll be honest, nothing’s jumping out at me…

Ruby sighs. “Oh, for crying out loud—move!”

I feel a little bewildered by all this. I step to the side, allowing her out of her room. As she passes me, I see her sink back into character once more. The madness fills her eyes, and her body language changes as she morphs back into the psychotic bitch I saw a few minutes ago. She disappears inside the observation room, coming out a moment later dragging the unconscious guard behind her by his collar.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whisper, genuinely unsure where she’s going with this.

She stays in character, tilting her head slowly, staring at me with insane eyes.

She says nothing.

“Oh, right… I see.”

It’s probably best I let her do her thing.

She drags the guard into the middle of the corridor and stands over him, a leg on either side of his body. Hitching her dress up, she slowly crouches down, straddling his waist. She leans forward, resting her hands on his shoulders, then looks ahead of her, down the long corridor, through the gates, into the eyes and souls of each security guard in turn.

“Oh, he’s mine!” she shouts. “A lovely gift—oh, yes he is! Daughter needs a new dress…”

Jesus Christ, it’s Gollum!

She starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Daughter will make herself a new one so she’s pretty for when the man with the tea comes back. Pretty in her own flesh… pretty in
his
!”

She rips the guard’s shirt open and digs her nails into his chest, drawing blood. She snaps her head around, stares straight at me, and lets out a scream that would scare a banshee.

“Let’s see how good you really are, heretic!”

Oh boy…

I look down the corridor at the team of security personnel. They’re running toward us, approaching the metal gate. The one in front is already reaching for the keys. They’ll be coming to save their colleague and restrain the crazy lady.

This is not a drill
, they’ll be thinking.

Now what do I do?

Hang on…

I have a nightstick. And I’m Adrian Hell. I know
exactly
what to do…

She’s not the only one with demons to let out.

Holding the nightstick in my right hand at one end, I walk purposefully to meet the guards as they file through the gate. They’ll have to come through one at a time, which means, if I’m quick, I might be able to pick one or two off before I’m overrun. That will even things up a little bit at least.

I reach them as the first guard is pushing the gate open. I swing fast from the hip. He’s slow to react, unprepared for any resistance. The nightstick connects with his temple. He goes down, sliding across the floor, hitting the wall to my left, out for the count. His cattle prod thing slides away behind me, spinning.

That might come in handy…

The next one through has time to adjust, but it won’t do him any good. I jab him hard in the stomach. He keels over, the wind knocked out of him. I smash the stick over the back of his head. He face-plants to the floor, out before he hits the tiles.

The remaining five pile through as fast as they can. Their faces are a mixture of anger and panic. I launch my nightstick at them, turn to run back toward Ruby, pausing only for a split-second to scoop up the electrified baton on my way past.

I make it back to her, skidding to a stop and spinning around to make my last stand against the oncoming guards. They stop maybe ten feet away, and fan out to cover the full width of the corridor.

“Give it up,” says one of them, over on the right. “What you’re doing is a federal crime. We
will
detain you by any means necessary until the FBI arrive.”

Federal?

FBI?

I glance at Ruby, who’s on her feet, standing over the unconscious guard with half his chest shredded. Her arms are out to the sides, and she’s hunched forward in a feral stance. Her eyes are almost demonic.

Fuck me—she looks like Wolverine!

They say the most believable actors treat the characters they portray not as a part, or even another person, but merely as extensions of themselves. Who they are, but with the volume turned up. If that’s the case, Ruby DeSouza deserves a fucking Oscar! And possibly some psychiatric support…

“Look, I know what it looks like,” I say to the guards. “But she shouldn’t be here. There’s a situation that requires her attention, and I don’t have time to go through the motions and officially appeal for her release. Just step aside, and no one else has to get hurt.”

As one, they take a step toward us. What training they’ve had must have focused on working as a team to quickly and effectively take down crazy people.

And right now, it doesn’t get much crazier than this.

I shrug. “Okay… maybe a few more people need to get hurt… But answer me this: what
exactly
did you mean when you said
federal
?”

One of the guards takes another step forward, raising his cattle prod. “This is a federally funded facility. Which means, when we sound the alarm, an FBI tactical unit comes running.”

“Ah… well, I’m glad we cleared that up. So, listen—I’m going to have to ask you real nice
not
to press that alarm, okay? Under any circumstances.”

The guard smiles. “Too late, asshole.”

Shit.

“They’re maybe three minutes out.”

Double shit.

I cast another glance at Ruby, whose mental act is visibly giving way to concern.

Any advance on double shit?

“We’ve also sent them your picture, taken from our security feed,” says another guard, probably the oldest of the five. “Turns out, they’re really interested in
you
, boy! They’re sending two units to make sure you play nice.”

There it is.

Triple shit.

“Yeah… I don’t know what it is you’ve done, but they couldn’t believe their luck when we told ’em about you!”

He smiles, and that pisses me off. I take a deep breath, in and out, to focus my mind. Being in this place has really thrown me off my game, but shit just got serious. If the FBI are coming, and they know I’m here, then I’m shit out of luck because the CIA won’t be far behind…

“Gimme the keys,” I say to Ruby without taking my eyes off the guards. I reach to the side and she places them in my hand. To the guards, I say, “Right, listen up. My friend here isn’t crazy. She’s extremely dangerous, and a damn fine actress, but she ain’t crazy. She’s here to hide out because she’s actually an assassin. You boys have been doing her a favor all this time, which I’m sure she’s grateful for.”

They shuffle uncomfortably on the spot and exchange glances of uncertainty and concern. It’s all in the eyes, you see. Even though what I’m saying sounds ridiculous, the practiced intensity in the stare I’m fixing them with makes them believe me.

“Myself, on the other hand… well, I’m
definitely
dangerous and arguably a little crazy as well. The FBI are gonna waltz in here and try to arrest me, and they’re gonna need to climb over your unconscious bodies to do it. And they’re gonna fail. Wanna know why?”

No one answers. No one moves.

I lunge forward, jabbing the business end of the cattle prod into the stomach of the guy nearest to me. It buzzes quickly and loudly, like when a fly hits one of those Insect-O-Cutor devices you see in restaurant kitchens. The guard screams and shakes before dropping to the floor, out cold and twitching.

I step over him swinging the stick around, catching another guard on the jaw. As he starts to drop, I spin around, thrusting the stick forward, hitting the next guard I see in the groin. His eyes go wide. He opens his mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. I’m guessing the pain is literally too much to process…

I feel a little bad about that one.

That’s three down in as many seconds. The two left are the ones farthest away from me on either side. I step toward the one on my left as I throw the cattle prod, shiny end first like a spear, at the guy on the right. It hits him squarely in the chest, taking him out of the equation.

I raise my arm, blocking the swing of the remaining guard’s own weapon with ease. With his head and chest exposed, I hit him hard in the jaw with my fist. He staggers back, dropping his stick as he hits the wall. He’s groggy, but awake. I whip my leg up, kicking him hard in the gut. He wheezes, doubling over and sinking slowly to the floor. Another swift kick to the side of the head puts him down for good.

“
That’s
why.”

I look back at Ruby.

She’s standing, out of character, staring at me with a disbelieving smile on her face. “Well, aren’t you a pleasant surprise! You live up to your reputation, I’ll give you that.”

“Thanks. Now, come on.”

We run to the metal gate, which I open for us and lock again once we’re through. We stop at the desk at the top of the stairs, which is now deserted. I point down the opposite wing of the building. “What’s down there?”

“More cells. Why?”

I move around the desk and sit at the computer. “We need a distraction.”

I’m thinking about what Ruby said before. All the cells apart from hers and the one opposite are controlled centrally. That means this computer must be able to open them. I just need to figure out how.

I tap away at the keyboard, navigating my way through the various menus and submenus, using what knowledge I’ve picked up from Josh over the years to quickly work out how to open all the doors.

I hope the FBI is prepared for a riot…

I press a button and the loud click of every cell opening in unison echoes down the corridors.

Ruby’s eyes go wide, and she punches my arm. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do you have any idea how dangerous these inmates are?”

I shrug. “Are they any worse than the FBI? Worse than me?”

She’s breathing heavily, probably from adrenaline. She doesn’t respond.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to blend in and sneak out before the FBI can regain control. It’ll be fine.”