Kill Shot (24 page)

“Agreed,” Logan said. “You don’t have a
choice here. You have to let her go.”

“Would you?” Gabe asked, speaking directly
to Logan.

They never talked of Logan’s past or the
horrors he’d been forced to live through. Of the wife who’d died
screaming his name for help. The puckered scars of fire covered a
good portion of Logan’s neck, back, and arms. He was the best
explosives man Gabe had ever worked with, but no one was perfect.
“If you had the chance to save her,” Gabe said softly, “would you
do it? Or would you walk away?” He wasn’t talking about Grace any
longer, and he could tell by the shadows that came into Logan’s
eyes that he knew it too.

Logan stared at him silently—defiantly—but
Ethan wasn’t afraid to break into an awkward pause.

“Hell, no,” Ethan said. “This is bullshit,
Gabe. You seriously think her life is worth everyone else’s? I know
she’s your wife, and I’m sorry about that, but she knows the risks.
I’m voting with Logan on this one. What about you, Jack?”

He looked at Jack and watched his friend
close his eyes, knowing what was coming.

“Gabe,” Jack started to say.

“This mission is aborted,” Gabe interrupted.
“The Collective is disbanded. Thank you for your work, gentlemen.
Go home.”

“I don’t understand,” Ethan said. “You’re
telling me you’re going to throw all this away for her? You’re
going to risk the safety of the world for one woman?”

“You can’t possibly understand, Ethan,” Gabe
said. “It’s not about
one
woman. It’s about
the
woman. There’s a hell of a lot of difference. If you’re lucky, you
might understand it one day.”

“This is pointless. You can’t get the
painting without us,” Ethan argued.

“Sure I can,” Gabe said, pulling the laptops
in front of him. “Go home. All of you.”

Gabe caught Logan’s smile, and knew he
understood. Jack groaned from across the table and muttered several
inventive curses.

“Like hell I’m going home,” Jack said.
“Someone has to watch your back. I’m in.”

“Me too,” Logan said. “But you’d better have
one hell of a plan.”

Ethan sputtered from the phone on the table.
“You’ve all lost your minds. This is insanity.”

“Goodbye, Ethan,” Gabe said, moving his
finger toward the phone to disconnect.

“Wait, wait,” Ethan said. “Can’t you even
give a guy a chance to think?” He sighed heavily across the line.
“I guess I’m in too. Though I want it noted that I reserve the
right to say I told you so.”

“So noted,” Gabe said. “Now let’s go get
that painting. We’ve got to be back in London by noon
tomorrow.”

***

2am

Darkness had crept across the city with
reluctance, edging out the harsh sunlight as if night and day were
fighting their own inevitable battle. Yellow lights flickered from
buildings and parking garages, and traffic was sparse.

The air turned cold and replaced the
terrible heat of the day, and a rolling wall of sand came into the
city just after midnight. Already, visibility was almost
impossible. Car alarms blared, and everyone was tucked safely in
their homes for the night. The only bad thing was that Logan had no
more visibility through the outside cameras they’d placed than
anyone else might. All they had to go by was their GPS units and
night-vision goggles.

“We’re going to be in trouble if this storm
lasts long,” Jack said. “The replacement plane will be
grounded.”

“One thing at a time,” Gabe said, staring
straight up the side of the museum walls.

He could only see a few feet in front of
him, and he didn’t like the idea of climbing the side of a building
mostly blind. He and Jack stood on the side opposite the main road,
the lake at their backs. They were both dressed in black—ski masks
pulled down over their heads—and the outside guards had taken their
watch indoors because of the storm, so all that stood between Gabe
and the painting was three stories of glass.

Gabe looked down at the black gloves that
covered him from the tips of his fingers to his elbows. “Are you
sure these are going to work?” he asked Ethan.

“Pretty sure,” Ethan responded. “As long as
you’re touching glass. I haven’t figured out how to make them
stable against other materials yet.”

“You’re pretty sure?” Jack asked
incredulously. “Why are you never completely sure?”

“Well, you’re only going up three stories.
I’ve found the gloves have a tendency to lose strength around five
stories, so you should be okay.”

“You should have let him blow up,” Jack said
to Gabe.

Gabe ignored them and placed his hand
against the window. He immediately felt the pull of the glove
against the glass, as if he were dealing with magnets instead of
rubber and glass. He mirrored the image with his left hand to make
sure both gloves were working properly, and then he began to
climb.

His shoulders and arms strained under a
rigorous display of pure strength, but he barely noticed the burn
as he made his way up the side of the building. Jack kept pace on
the window next to him, and neither of them spoke as they made the
climb. Not until they saw what waited ahead of them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jack
said.

The glass stopped at the top of the third
floor, but there was a five-foot lip that extended over the roof of
the museum that was solid stone. No glass in sight. And Gabe
couldn’t tell how far the ledge extended up because of their
limited visibility.

Gabe detached one of his hands from the
safety of the glass and reached up to touch the stone, hoping there
was at least a little traction, but the glove slipped off the stone
as soon as he tried to grasp it, and his body dropped and knocked
against the window lightly so he was dangling precariously by one
arm.

“Everything okay?” Logan asked.

“Dandy,” Gabe said, pulling himself back up
into position, his heart racing at the close call. He tugged at the
glove on his right hand with his teeth until it was free and let it
drop three stories.

“Shit,” Jack muttered, following his
lead.

Gabe held himself up with his remaining
glove and used his feet against the glass to gain momentum. He
pushed up and released his hold on the window just as his fingers
clamped around the protruding stone. The rough edges bit into his
fingertips and he held on with a prayer as he discarded the other
glove and let it drop to the ground. He brought his left hand up to
strengthen his hold on the ledge of the building. His muscles
bunched and strained, and sweat snaked down his spine as he slowly
pulled himself up.

Once he edged over the stone protrusion, he
rolled onto the roof and lay there a few seconds on his back.

“I’d like you to work on making the gloves
useable in all conditions, Dragon,” Gabe said as calmly as he could
manage.

“Sure thing, boss. Sorry about that.”

Jack rolled onto the roof next to him and
muttered the most inventive string of curses Gabe had ever heard
before, but they both quickly regrouped. Gabe looked at Jack and
nodded, and they made their way across the roof to the skylights
that were positioned over the third floor café.

“Ghost and Renegade are in position,” Gabe
said calmly. “Going into phase one.”

Jack took the electric screwdriver from his
pack and removed all the screws that held the skylight in
place.

“Once you remove the window, Grim Reaper
will only have thirty seconds to reactivate the alarm systems using
the override codes,” Ethan said. “Dammit, I should be the one doing
this. What the hell does Grim Reaper know about computers?”

“Ease down, Dragon. It’ll be fine,” Gabe
said. He pulled a small black square from his backpack and tossed
it to the ground, catching the tent that popped out quickly before
it could blow away. He secured it to the roof and covered the
skylights so the wind and sand wouldn’t accidentally set off the
alarms. No one would be able to see the tent until after the storm
cleared, and by then it would be too late. They’d already be
gone.

“You ready, Grim Reaper?” Gabe asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Removing the skylight now.”

Gabe and Jack lifted the heavy skylight with
little difficulty, making no sound as they placed it to the side.
Gabe counted down the seconds on his watch and breathed out a sigh
of relief when he heard Logan’s voice.

“Alarm is deactivated, but it’s still
showing as active in the command center. None of the guards noticed
the slight bump in the system.”

“Good work,” Gabe said. “Stand by while we
move to phase two.”

The opening left from the skylight was
protected with a crisscross of infrared beams, and Jack pulled four
quarter-sized metal disks from his bag.

“You sure this is going to work, Dragon?”
Jack asked.

“Why do you keep asking me that?” Ethan
responded. “It’s starting to piss me off. Of course it works. I do
not make inferior gadgets.”

Gabe took two of the disks and nodded at
Jack. He placed one of the disks near the bulb the beam originated
from and the other near the receiver on the opposite side. Jack
mirrored his image.

“On three,” Gabe said. “One, two…”

They simultaneously moved the disks into
place, cutting off the beam while giving the receiver the
impression the infrared was still in place. The disks were magnetic
and held in place without assistance.

“Make sure you don’t bump them going
inside,” Ethan ordered.

“You’ve got six minutes until the guard
makes his rounds,” Logan warned.

Gabe and Jack tied the black nylon ropes in
the bags to the pipes that stuck up from the roof and attached them
to the hooks at their belts. Gabe slowly lowered himself inside the
museum and then tossed his rope back up to Jack once he’d reached
the ground. Jack didn’t waste any time making his own descent and
quickly joined him. He tossed his rope back up into the open space
the skylight had left, and Gabe led them into the supply closet to
wait out the guard making his rounds.

“Lazy bastard,” Logan commented in their
ears. “He’s not even making a full loop of the top floor. They’ve
got a poker game going in the control room. You’re all clear. Get
in and get out.”

Gabe slid out of the closet and went
directly to the west wing where Hitler’s paintings were displayed.
He pulled his knife from his boot, and it took only seconds to
slice the painting from the frame. He rolled it up and stuck it in
the tube Jack handed him.

“Uh-oh,” Logan said through the earpiece.
“That doesn’t look good.”

Jack and Gabe looked at each other, but
didn’t answer Logan’s warning. They both pulled their pistols and
split up, each finding a hiding spot behind large white
columns.

“The control room guard just answered a
phone call. It looks like Kimball tipped them off to our plans. The
alert has gone out to all the guards. I can see both of you on my
screen.”

“How many?” Gabe whispered.

“Three are coming up the back stairs.
They’ll come out right behind you, Ghost. Eight are taking the main
stairs, and three more are taking the stairs on Jack’s side.
They’ll come out by the café.”

Gabe stayed down and moved quickly to the
outside of the stairwell Logan had warned him of. The first bursts
of gunfire happened on Jack’s side of the building, but Gabe knew
his friend could take care of himself. The guards hoped to
overwhelm him by coming through the door all at once, but their
plan backfired on them.

Gabe grabbed the first guard around the neck
and fired into the chest of the one right behind him. He kicked out
with his leg, pushing the guard he’d shot in the chest so he fell
into the guard behind him. The man he had in a headlock struggled
until Gabe broke his neck and put one final bullet in the guard
that was struggling to move his friend’s body off of him.

Those coming up the stairs decided to shoot
first and ask questions later. Gabe dove behind the column he’d
been hiding behind earlier just as shards of plaster and dust
exploded above him. He pulled the knife from his boot and threw it
at the first guard he saw, embedding it in his throat even as he
was firing his gun.

Several men swarmed him at once, and a gun
was difficult to use in close combat. He pulled a Taser from the
belt of one of the guards and shot it into his neck even as his
foot hit another in the chest and knocked him over the stair
railing so he fell three stories below.

He saw Jack get in position on the opposite
side of the stairway, and they both worked their way to the center
of the staircase, taking out the rest of the guards until it was
only the two of them standing at the top of the stairs.

“Update,” Gabe ordered.

He pulled his knife from the guard it had
been buried in and wiped it on the man’s clothes. He and Jack
started down the stairs to the lower gallery floors, moving
cautiously.

“Two guards blocking each entrance,” Logan
said. “Police have been dispatched. It’s time to disappear. I’m
packing up here. I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point. Grim Reaper
out.”

“What can I do?” Ethan asked. “I hate just
sitting here.”

“Make sure the backup plane I ordered is a
go,” Gabe said. “We’ll be ready for takeoff in twenty minutes. And
make sure you talk to the pilot directly. Tell him to take every
precaution. I want to make sure he’s alive when we get there.”

Gabe slapped a full clip in his gun as he
heard the sound of boots hitting the stairs and coming toward them.
He nodded once at Jack to cover him and jumped over the stair
railing, simultaneously firing at two of the guards. Jack covered
his back and fired steadily at those blocking the front entrance
until they were ducking for cover.

Gabe and Jack ran out the front entrance
together, shots echoing behind them. They split off and disappeared
into the night and sand just as a dozen police cars surrounded the
museum.