Magic Lantern (Rogue Angel) (29 page)

“Yes.” Heimdall sounded more strained. “I’m checking through the security footage… . Late last night, a group of Chinese men entered that office. They haven’t come out.”

Fiona nodded. “Then we have to assume we aren’t the only ones who know about Magdelaine de Brosses’s second room. Can you identify the men?”

“I’ve downloaded images of them, but I don’t have access to those kinds of databases. I’m limited to situations like these. I never cared to get into anything heavier.”

“Understood. I have a chap who can take care of the identification. Just keep those images.”

At that moment, the sharp cracks of gunfire sounded from inside the office. The guard drew his weapon and charged.

“Well, that’s a sure indication that things have gone awry. The second room is just around the way?”

“Yes.”

Fiona opened the door and raced into the hallway. “Since our quarry hasn’t come back through this door, let’s assume he—or someone—is going to come through the other one.” She started running toward the intersection of hallways only a short distance ahead of her. Her feet made no sound on the plush carpet. Annja kept pace.

* * *

LAFRAMBOISE PUSHED HIMSELF up from his chair and snapped his right wrist, then twisted. Immediately a small, heavy-caliber Semmerling XLM derringer popped into his hand.

The weapon was almost a museum piece and hard to acquire. Once Laframboise had heard of the weapon, he’d had to have it. Chambered in .45 ACP and semiautomatic, the pistol was deadly in close quarters.

It was also painful to shoot. He squeezed the trigger and immediately felt like someone had struck his hand with a baseball bat. No matter how much time he’d spent at the target range, his grip and his reaction to the recoil couldn’t prevent it. Shooting the pistol hurt.

But it also gave him a chance to get back the lantern. The bullet struck Zhang high on the left shoulder and staggered the man, knocking him to the ground. Laframboise fired again but he’d hurried his shot. The bullet gouged the wood surrounding the hidden door and tore a white scar across the varnished surface.

With only three rounds left, Laframboise turned his attention to the man carrying the lantern. He aimed low, starting at the man’s knees and letting the pistol rise naturally on the successive recoils. He fired the three remaining rounds in a thunderous roll.

The heavy-caliber bullets tore the man’s legs out from beneath him and left him flattened on the ground, the lantern on top of him.

Partially deaf from the detonations in the enclosed room, Laframboise shoved the pistol back up his sleeve and locked it into place. Then he reached for the pistol at his hip.

Campra had already killed the other Chinese gangster. Blood splashed the wall behind the man and soaked the bullet holes. Magdelaine had shrunk down in the corner and was trying to wrap her arms over her head and hide herself. She was screaming, and Laframboise couldn’t help but wonder what she might have seen in her immediate future.

“Gilbert, be careful of the lantern.”

Campra nodded.

Holding his pistol before him in both hands, Laframboise took one step to the side to get around the desk. He intended to finish killing Zhang if the man wasn’t dead.

Instead, Zhang seemed to return to life. The Chinese killer jerked and rolled over. In that brief second, Laframboise saw there was no blood on the man’s back and knew that Zhang must have been wearing body armor. A pistol appeared in Zhang’s hand as if by magic.

“Look out!” Campra brought up the machine pistol. Before he could fire, Zhang fired three rounds into him, knocking him back. The H&K flew from his hands.

Laframboise brought his pistol to bear and fired two shots. He didn’t think either of them hit his target, and then he was looking down the barrel of Zhang’s weapon.

Cursing, Laframboise threw himself backward and down, seeking shelter as a bullet cut the wind near his ear. He took cover behind the desk. The wood vibrated as Zhang continued firing. The rounds cored through in a couple places, but most of them were stopped.

Magdelaine wailed and shrieked in the sudden silence. She was shaking uncontrollably now.

Laframboise cursed her silently. Even without psychic powers, she should have been able to see what was going to happen. Thinking that Zhang had cycled his weapon dry, Laframboise rose from behind the desk with his pistol gripped in both hands.

Zhang wasn’t there. Neither was the lantern case. Only the wounded man remained, and he was trying desperately to escape by crawling away. Mercilessly, Laframboise shot the man through the head from behind. By the time the corpse collapsed, Laframboise was already moving toward Campra.

Blood matted Campra’s left shoulder. Bullets had made holes in his jacket, and there was a tear on the right side where a round had ricocheted and tore through the coat. Campra wore body armor, as well. As Laframboise watched, the man finally managed to draw a deep breath. Then he rolled over, cursed and reached for the machine pistol.

“Did you get him?” Campra rose to his feet, dropped the empty magazine and fed another one into the weapon.

“Zhang? No. He’s gone, and he’s got my lantern.”

A man filled the doorway behind them and they turned with their weapons. His other guard stood there with his weapon pointed at them. He lowered it.

Laframboise pierced the man with his gaze. “You saw nothing in the hallway?”

“No.”

“Call the car and have it waiting in the alley. Call in the other team and let them know we’re looking for Puyi-Jin’s men.”

“Yes, sir.” The man fumbled inside his jacket and produced a mobile. He pressed a button and started speaking rapidly.

Campra glanced at the hidden door. “Cute.” He pressed a hand to his side and winced. “The woman knew they were there?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do about her?”

Laframboise glanced at Magdelaine. “Leave her.” He pinned her with his hot gaze. “But if I lose my lantern, I’m coming back here to kill you.”

The woman reached toward him with a shaking hand. Her face was racked with fear as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Forgive me.”

“Where does this door lead?”

“To the adjoining room.”

“Then out into the next hallway?”

“Yes.”

“There are elevators at the other end of the building?”

Magdelaine nodded and her head jerked with the movement. “Forgive me, Jean-Baptiste. Please. I beg you. I had no choice. You must understand that.”

Ignoring her, Laframboise nodded to Campra. “Let’s go get my lantern back.”

Together, they plunged through the hidden door.

* * *

“I’VE GOT YOUR TARGET.” Heimdall tried to speak calmly, but his excitement betrayed him.

Annja was a step behind Fiona as they rounded the next corner that took them to the hallway where the door to Magdelaine de Brosses’s second room was.

“Where?” Fiona stared down the hallway at the scattered individuals cowering in the hallway at the sound of gunfire.

“Ahead of you. On the left. No. On
your
right.”

Staring ahead, Annja spotted the Asian man just stepping out of a doorway less than ten feet away. Just before she asked Heimdall for further clarification, she spotted the familiar case tucked under the man’s arm. When the man pulled up a pistol, he removed all doubt as to his identity.

He swung the case up as Fiona fired. The bullet screamed off the reinforced case and dug into a nearby wall only a few feet over the head of a reluctant observer. The man went flat to the ground immediately.

Fiona held her fire, obviously deciding unless she had a clear shot she didn’t want to risk accidentally hitting a bystander. Never breaking stride, Annja plucked the sword into the hallway with her and swung. The blade flashed as it cut through the air and smacked into the pistol.

The weapon flew from the man’s hand as he stared at the sword in surprise. He raised the case to block another sword strike and backed away, talking rapidly.

Annja didn’t realize who the man was talking to until four men rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway. They opened fire at once. Deciding to cope with the more deadly threat, Fiona flung herself into a doorway and fired from cover.

One of the men sagged with a bullet between his eyes. Another lost interest in the gun battle when a bullet ripped through his throat. He stood, frantically using both hands to stem the tide of blood. His efforts were in vain and he staggered to one side, falling over a woman who went into immediate panic.

Brandishing her sword, Annja focused on the Asian man with the lantern case. She swung at his head, trying to scare him into stepping back against the wall. Once he was off balance, she intended to take him down.

Instead, the man spun, blocking her sword with the case, then coming around with a back kick that caught her in the middle of her chest. The air whooshed out of her and she went backward. Dumb, dumb, you should have seen that coming. He knew the wall was there, too.

As she fell back, the man spun again, lashing out with a foot and sweeping her legs out from under her. Reflexively, she reached out to break her fall and released her hold on the sword. It disappeared at once, returning to wherever it was when she didn’t have it. She slammed against the floor. The only reason she didn’t have the breath knocked out of her was because it was already gone.

Her vision turned spotty and she hovered on the edge of unconsciousness. The man loomed above her. He raised his foot and she knew he intended to drive it through her face.

30

Reaching up, Annja caught the man’s foot. She stopped his boot sole only an inch or two from her nose. Her arms burned with the effort of keeping him at bay. He was quick, though, almost too quick. He let her hold on to his foot and used it to push himself up so he could drive the other foot down into her throat.

Lungs burning for air, a sudden headache splitting her temples and her vision grayed out at the edges, Annja wrenched her opponent’s foot. Physiology and leverage created an insurmountable pressure. The man cried out in pain as his body torqued off balance. He came crashing down, arms windmilling, and he lost his hold on the case.

Annja rolled out of the way and air finally rushed back into her lungs just as she thought she was never going to breathe again. She pushed herself to her feet and grabbed the handle of the case.

“No!” The man scrambled to get up, but his wrenched ankle betrayed him and he crumpled to his knee. He lunged for the pistol but Annja got there first and kicked the weapon away.

Gunshots still rang out in the hallway. Only one of the gunmen had survived Fiona’s marksmanship, but he had holed up around the corner at the end of the hall in another corridor.

Fiona took refuge in the recessed doorway and calmly reloaded her weapon. She took note of Annja. “You got the case. Good job.”

“Let’s get out of here before some of these people get hurt.” Annja headed toward the opposite end of the hallway. Another corridor ran perpendicular to the one they were in. If she had the floor configuration worked out, there was another emergency stairwell and a set of elevators there.

Fiona released the slide on her weapon to chamber a fresh round, took another shot at the man around the corner, then turned the pistol toward the man Annja had fought. Annja didn’t have any doubt that the woman would kill in cold blood if she had to. The man was already a recognized threat.

Before Fiona could pull the trigger, though, Laframboise yanked open the door the Asian man had come through. Another man with a machine pistol stood at his side.

“Fiona!”

Effortlessly, Fiona wheeled around and fired at the open door, triggering shot after shot. Annja was uncertain whether any of the shots hit Laframboise or his lackey, but both men dove back inside the room as splinters ripped from the door.

Fiona cursed and dropped the empty magazine, pulling still another from her jacket and slamming it home as she ran to join Annja. “Bloody cross fire is
not
where we need to be.”

In full agreement, Annja ran after her. Bullets cut the air around them and punched holes in the wall at the end of the hallway. The percussions sounded impossibly loud.

At the end of the hallway, Annja started to go to the right, toward the second set of stairs and elevators. She’d barely managed two steps before she spotted another group of armed Asians sprinting toward them.

“Well, this isn’t where we want to be, either.” Fiona brought up her pistol and fired rapidly, scattering the new arrivals.

Retreating the other way, Annja ran hard but didn’t leave Fiona behind. The older woman kept up surprisingly well. “Heimdall, is the other stairwell and elevator bank clear?”